13. Adonis

13

ADONIS

Eris was sleeping. With Hephaestus.

Even as she stares at me in shock, rattled by the attempt on Athena’s life, I can’t erase the image of her sharp features relaxed, her body tucked into his embrace. They look good together. I knew that, of course; photos from their wedding were splashed all over MuseWatch. Her in that gorgeous gown standing next to his broader form, them both the same height with her heels. His brooding attractiveness and her sharp beauty.

A matched pair.

Eris slaps Hephaestus’s shoulder. “Stop pretending to sleep. I know you’re awake.”

He rolls onto his back, seeming completely uncaring that he’s as naked as she is. Eris has always stopped my breath in my lungs. She says I’m the beautiful one, but she’s the kind of devastating that brings down cities and leaves a trail of broken hearts behind her.

Hephaestus is different. He draws me in a way that’s all too earthy, his massive body peppered with scars and the kind of muscle definition that makes me want to trace the lines with my tongue. Despite myself, my gaze snags on his hips, where his cock jerks as if in response to my attention.

“See something you like?” he drawls.

Eris flicks the sheets over his hips. “Stop showing off.” She snaps her fingers. “Adonis, focus. What happened to Athena?”

Right. The reason I came. I clear my throat. “It was a sniper. They shot at her from a building across the way. She received minor injuries from shattered glass, but is otherwise fine.”

“A sniper.” Eris frowns. “But that won’t trigger the clause, even if they were successful.”

“You know that. I know that. The greater Olympus population doesn’t.” Somehow, in all the chaos after the house party, that piece of information was never made public, which just proves that Minos is smart. He leaked enough information to cause problems, but not enough to actually change power.

If Athena was killed without the proper steps being followed, her murderer would be executed and her successor would be appointed by Zeus, just like every Athena before them.

“I bet you’re happy.” She glares down at Hephaestus. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“I wanted to be one of the Thirteen.” He pushes off the bed and carefully stands, but on his first step, his knee buckles.

I move on instinct, catching his elbow and keeping him on his feet. It brings us startlingly close. Close enough that I can smell Eris and sex on his skin. Jealousy and something infinitely more complicated sink their fangs into me.

I love her. I’m quickly having to admit that I’m attracted to him. The thought of them fucking, of them sleeping together, claws at my insides, knowledge I can’t escape.

Hephaestus’s gaze drops to my mouth for one charged moment and then he shakes me off. “I got it.”

We watch in silence as he moves slowly into the bathroom and shuts the door firmly behind him. I turn back to Eris almost reluctantly. I didn’t think he would still be here, or I never would have come.

Except that’s not the truth, is it?

When I heard the news about Athena, I didn’t stop to think. I was already walking through the lobby to Eris’s building by the time my brain caught up with my body. I can barely process the relief I feel over her being okay when this is what I found. It feels like she stabbed me in the gut, and I don’t know what it says about me that I can’t just be happy she’s alive and well in this moment. I can barely look at her. “You slept with him.”

“He’s my husband. I’m allowed to fuck him.”

She’s being intentionally difficult. I clench my jaw. “That’s not what I mean and you know it. You slept with him, Eris. What the fuck?”

“Adonis—” She stops short and sighs. That sigh feels like a hook in my chest, dragging what’s left of my jagged heart out into the open between us. It’s only been a couple weeks since she broke it off, and it’s never been so final between us. My brain knows that it’s over. My heart hasn’t quite caught up.

“Don’t.” I don’t know what I’m protesting, only that I’m already the walking wounded and I can’t take her kicking me in the teeth right now. “Just don’t.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” She speaks so quietly, none of her normal sharp edges present. “We fought and we fucked and I haven’t slept in days. That’s all it was.”

Except we both know better.

Eris doesn’t sleep well. She hasn’t for as long as I’ve known her, which is most of our lives. She’s given dozens of answers over the years to explain it away, but I suspect the truth sources back to growing up in Zeus’s household. It’s bad enough to know her father murdered her mother—and got away with it—but he put all his children through trauma I can barely imagine. My parents can be difficult and stubborn and strict, but my home was a safe space. It still is a safe space.

She never had that.

She still doesn’t, though she’d fight me to a standstill if I suggested it. Eris doesn’t see what she and Zeus are doing as anything other than necessary, but marrying the enemy and going through torment to bring them down? That’s not normal, even for Olympus. It’s certainly not safe.

“Eris.” I catch myself. Eris might be who I fell in love with, but she’s not that person anymore. “I suggest you expand your security detail, Aphrodite. Maybe your husband won’t dare hurt you, but there are plenty of people in Olympus who are willing to kill for your title.”

“Adonis…”

She starts to rise, but I shake my head. “No. I’m done. Coming here was a mistake.” I keep expecting the pain of losing her to dull, but it’s as sharp as ever. Before, even when we were on a break, we were still friends. That isn’t true anymore. I can’t be just friends with this woman. We’ve been ingrained in each other’s lives for too long. Maybe we could never quite make it work in a permanent way, but we had our history binding us together.

Or at least we used to.

“I’ll leave my key on the kitchen counter.”

“Wait—”

I walk out of the bedroom before she can find the words to keep me there. She will. She always has in the past. What I need to do is leave immediately, but I find myself moving through the rooms of the apartment. There are so many good memories here from over the years. Evenings spent trying to cook whatever new dish Eris found on the food blogs she refuses to admit to anyone else that she loves. Lazy mornings strategizing on the political moves others are making and how she wants to either disrupt or assist. Nights where she fell asleep on my chest, her dark hair silky against my skin.

Never again.

I leave my key where I told her I would. It feels like a final goodbye. The elevator ride down to the lobby is even worse, to the point where I’m relieved when my phone buzzes in my pocket.

Less so when I realize who it is.

Hephaestus:Meet me at my place.

I stare at the text for a long moment. Agreeing to help him was a mistake. I knew it going in, and what I found this morning only confirms it. I can’t take this man’s word for anything. Continuing this charade where I give him advice to help him undermine Eris’s—no, Aphrodite’s—plan to thwart the enemy? It skirts the line of making me a traitor.

In this moment, I’m not sure I care.

I type back a quick agreement and keep going. There are a pair of photographers huddled across the street, and I force my expression into my customary relaxed grin. They’ll already have enough to talk about with my rush into the building; no reason to give them more ammunition.

My mother calls as I head back to my apartment. I sigh and check my pace. “Hello, Mom.”

“Adonis, honey, why are you outside that woman’s apartment?”

My mom loves Eris. She genuinely hoped we’d get married at some point and pop out half a dozen grandchildren for her to dote on, despite the fact that neither of us are overly inclined to be parents. But ever since the marriage was announced, Eris has become that woman in conversation. As much as I appreciate the unrelenting support, it doesn’t change the fact that it makes me want to defend Eris. “I had to drop off my key.”

Her beat of silence lets me know what she thinks of that poor excuse. “That girl has her sights set elsewhere, Adonis. She always has. It’s time to stop following her around like a lovestruck teenager and find someone to settle down with.”

We’ve had a variation of this conversation a dozen times in the last dozen days. I can almost recite it by heart. “Mom, you’ve got to give me time.”

“Your parent and I only have so many years left. You won’t have us dying without knowing you’re happy, will you?”

I don’t roll my eyes, if only because my mother has a sixth sense when it comes to anything resembling disrespect. “You’re only in your fifties. You were just saying you’re still in your prime last week. You’ll be around for another forty years at least and you know it.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

There’s no reasoning with her when she gets like this. She means well, even if her idea of a reasonable timeline to get over a broken heart leaves something to be desired. “I’ll considering dating at some point. That’s all you’re going to get out of me right now.”

“I suppose that will have to do.” She sounds so pleased, I can’t help grinning. Mom laughs. “You’re a good boy, Adonis. Anyone who doesn’t see that isn’t worth your time. Come by for dinner Sunday.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll see you then.”

“If you decide to bring someone, I wouldn’t be sad about it.”

I chuckle. “Goodbye, Mom. Have a good rest of your day.” I make a quick stop at my apartment to fix my appearance. I had no thought of that when I rushed to Aphrodite’s side earlier, but now that I’m going to be circling Hephaestus, it’s important to keep up every barrier possible.

My fingers still in the middle of buttoning my shirt. I knew he was attractive, of course, but seeing him naked was something that never should have happened. My family and friends don’t think I have much in the way of canniness, but even I know better than to sleep with this man.

But I won’t lie and say the temptation isn’t there. For a multitude of reasons.

I find Hephaestus waiting for me outside his building, leaned up against the wall as if he doesn’t notice the paparazzi trailing him. They’re further away than I expect, but then I wouldn’t want to risk a known murderer’s wrath if I were them, either.

He sends me a searching look. “You’re still torn up over her.”

“No shit.” I know better than to let my emotions get the best of me, but there was no closure this morning. If anything, it tore open a brand-new wound I wasn’t even aware of until now. “She slept with you.”

“You keep saying that.” He narrows his eyes. “What does that mean?”

I open my mouth to reply, but my brain catches up before I have a chance to. He has enough ammunition against her without me giving him more. I don’t want to actually hurt Aphrodite—just her public image. It’s a bone in my throat to know she was able to sleep with him in her bed, that she was never going to come to me for that again, not now that she’s married.

She needs to sleep.

I just hate the source of her relief.

“Nothing.” I turn back to where my car idles at the curb. “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Even as he asks the question, he moves to follow. He really is a cocky bastard. I could have murdered him several times over.

Unlike the greater Olympian population, I know what’s required to trigger the assassination clause. If I killed Hephaestus and took his place, I could marry Eris. There would be no one standing between us…

Even as the thought crosses my mind, I discard it. I’m not a murderer. I’m capable enough, even years after training with Athena, but I’ve always lacked the coldness she requires in her people. It’s why I didn’t last more than two years with her before she sat me down and gently—for her—told me that I’d be better suited for another line of work.

The assassination attempts on the Thirteen won’t go away. If anything, they’re going to get worse as time goes on and people become bolder. Too many people saw the attack on Athena. It’s being actively televised right now, a spray of glass and her people pulling her down to the ground and covering her with their bodies.

There will be another attack, and soon.

Maybe it’s naive, but I don’t want to be part of the problem.

“Adonis?”

Gods, but I like the rough way he says my name. I open the car door for him. “We’re going to your building and seeing your people.”

“They aren’t my people.” He glares, but he slides into the seat all the same.

I shut the door and circle around to the driver’s seat. “Yes, they are, and the sooner both you and they make their peace with that, the better.”