23. Aphrodite

23

APHRODITE

If someone told me a week ago that I’d be sharing a tense meal with my ex and my husband, I would have laughed them out of the room. I fully intended to stay as far from Adonis as possible, and the only time I planned to be in Hephaestus’s presence is when I’m driving him out of his mind with rage.

He’s not out of his mind right now.

He’s eating with a single-minded intensity that reminds me a bit of one of Helen’s partners, Achilles. As if he grew up not entirely trusting his next meal was guaranteed. It makes me feel strange. More so, it’s strange how domestic this is. Hephaestus put his jeans back on, but didn’t bother with a shirt. Adonis has pulled on a pair of lounge pants left over from one of the many times he spent the night.

Weak as it is, I’m wearing one of Adonis’s old shirts, its fabric soft and faded from so many washings. It doesn’t smell like him anymore—it hasn’t in years—but it’s my favorite thing to put on when I’m feeling off-center. If I was stronger, I wouldn’t telegraph how much I need the comfort, but they found me curled up in the shower, so it’s pretty obvious how not okay I am.

Everything about this situation makes me feel strange. I take small bites, mostly to keep Adonis from pestering that I need calories, but my mind is abuzz with the events of the last day.

I held it together through sheer grit today. Every loud sound or quick movement after the attack had me fighting down a flinch. I’ve been at home in this city from the moment I was born, and for the first time, it feels like it is the enemy instead of a longtime friend. Worse, I don’t see a way through this.

The cat is out of the bag regarding the assassination clause. We can’t cover it up, and it’s obvious that giving people something to gossip about isn’t enough to distract from the temptation of claiming a spot on the Thirteen for themselves. The public might not actively hate us right now, but a quick scroll through MuseWatch gave the surreal impression that they’re looking at the attempted assassinations as entertainment.

I can’t hate them for it. This is the culture the Thirteen created and fostered. We’re reaping what we’ve sown. Even as they root for us or against us in turn, they won’t condemn the assassins entirely.

I hope Perseus has some ideas during the meeting tomorrow…because I don’t.

To distract myself, I look at the men. Hephaestus glares at the table like it said something insulting about his mother. Adonis eats in the precise way he does everything, never a bit of energy wasted. They sit next to each other at the bar, so close that their shoulders brush regularly, and there’s a…

I stare.

No.

Surely not.

I must be imagining things. There has to be a reason my husband and my ex are so comfortable in each other’s presence when they have every reason to hate each other. If I’d been in my right mind, I would have noticed it before. Hephaestus has reason to be here, but Adonis doesn’t. Not unless he was called. Not unless Hephaestus called him.

But why would my husband call my ex for help?

Unless…

I take a long drink of my water and set the glass carefully on the counter. “So, how long have you two been fucking?”

It’s a testament to Adonis’s training that he doesn’t sputter or get flustered. But I’ve known this man the better part of my life, and I know his tells. They’re there in the way his shoulders shift the barest amount; it’s not enough movement to be called a flinch, but on him it might as well have been a shout from the rooftops.

Hephaestus doesn’t have the same training, but he’s not trying to cover it up. He leans back slowly, meeting my gaze. “Since last night.”

I don’t expect the blast of pain to my chest. It’s so sudden, I actually lift my hand as if I can rub it away. I forgot, for a moment, that we’re on opposite sides of a war that is both personal and political. I forgot we’re enemies. Fool. “Well, then.”

“Get that look off your face, Wife. Where were you last night?” He rises slowly. “You know the game we’re playing.”

“A game.” Adonis pushes his food away from him. “I see.”

I watch in something resembling horror as Hephaestus actually flinches. “No. That’s not what I mean.”

“It’s what you said.”

“Godsdamn it, you know I stick my foot in my mouth more often than not. Did last night feel like a game to you?”

If I had any doubts about it before, I don’t now. This is a lovers’ quarrel happening in my kitchen. I take a step back and a hysterical laugh slips free. “Right. Of course. Well, congratulations to both of you. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

Adonis finally looks at me. For the first time since he arrived, he’s absolutely furious and not trying to hide it. “No, you don’t get to do that. You married another man.”

“And you fucked him. Guess we’re even.” I’m not being fair. I know I’m not being fair. I don’t give a fuck. What I’ve done, I did for this city. Adonis doesn’t have that excuse. He must have done it simply to hurt me. Or, worse in some ways, he did it because he wanted to. Because he’s already moved on.

Can you really say that you only care about Pandora because of the purpose she’ll serve?

I’m a hypocrite, but I don’t care. There’s no way they just randomly fell into bed together. Just like that, the pieces click into place. My husband’s miraculous bounce back in the public eye, the way he’s seemingly effortlessly switched to the doting cuckold. In the space of twenty-four hours, the write-ups stopped frothing at the mouth to see who I’d sleep with next and started talking about how sad my poor, loving husband is while he waits at home for me to return. I thought it a strange coincidence, but it’s no coincidence at all.

It’s Adonis’s doing.

“You helped him. You told him what to say, what to do.”

Adonis doesn’t blink. “I had my reasons.”

Gods, I might deserve this, but I can barely think past the betrayal coating my throat. “Right. Of course you did. Well, don’t let me get in the way of your little spat. I’m going to bed.” I start for the hallway.

Hephaestus curses and grabs my wrist. He pulls some move that doesn’t even make sense, spinning me into his arms and creating a cage.

I slap his chest. “Let me go.”

“That was an impressive exit, but you don’t get to make Adonis sad and then prance off.”

“I do not prance.”

“Theseus.” Adonis is on his feet next to us.

I give a sharp laugh. “Oh, so you call him Theseus? It really must be love.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eris.”

My real name is another blow. I’ve missed hearing him say it, but I don’t want to hear it now. Not like this. “No, you—”

“That’s enough,” growls Hephaestus. “Both of you.” He spins me around and pins my back against his chest. “Just kiss and make up already.”

I go still, but my shock is nothing compared to the way Adonis’s jaw drops. He looks over my head at my husband. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” He keeps one arm banded across my waist and grips my chin with his other hand. “Look at her. So sad. So hurt. Don’t you want to kiss her better, Adonis?”

I can’t breathe. I don’t know if I want to fight or simply melt against him. I am not, and have never been, someone particularly submissive in the bedroom or out of it. But…I am so fucking tired. My heart hurts and, damn it, I’m scared out of my mind. I can barely think about tomorrow and the days that follow and what this new reality might look like.

Maybe I can release that. If only for tonight.

Adonis looks downright tormented, his gaze jumping from me to Hephaestus and back again. “Eris…”

I never wanted to give you up.

I don’t say it. Even I’m not bastard enough to voice such an unforgivable thing in this moment. I’ve missed him. I don’t deserve him back in my life or my bed, but I don’t have the walls in place to stop this.

I don’t want to stop it.

Just like that, I decide. I relax against my husband’s chest and tilt my head back, pressing my throat more firmly into his palm. “That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To make me feel better, my perpetual knight in shining armor.”

Adonis’s mouth goes hard. “You don’t have to say it like that.”

“But she’s right.” Hephaestus’s words rumble against my back. “You’re the good one, Adonis. Better than both of us combined.” He drags his thumb up and down my throat slowly. “Leave her in my care and who knows what damage I might do.”

Adonis crosses his arms over his chest and glares. “You’re trying to manipulate me and you’re not even doing a good job at it.”

“Why bother being good at it?” He moves his arm by my waist, hooking the edge of my shirt and lifting it a few inches. Not enough to flash anyone, but it’s close enough that Adonis’s gaze sharpens on my newly exposed thighs. “You want it. She wants it. What’s the point in playing games?”

“Because you’re fucking with my heart.”

Hephaestus hesitates. It’s only because I’m pressed so tightly to him that I feel his breath hitch. “You aren’t the only one with a fool heart tangled up in this. Stop playing the martyr and get on your knees.”

I draw a shocked breath, but it’s lost in Adonis’s obedience. He curses and sinks to his knees slowly before us. “I won’t get out of this unscathed, and I resent you using me like a pawn between you.”

I need to say something, to stop this or reassure him or…something. This night has taken a twist for the unexpected and Adonis is right. We need to stop. This wasn’t simple from the beginning, and it feels like every step we take only makes it more complicated, entangles us further.

But I can’t quite manage to speak as Hephaestus lifts my shirt, baring me from the waist down. He’s still stroking my throat with his thumb, a possessive and strangely gentling movement. When he speaks to Adonis, he sounds almost tender. “You may have started out like a pawn, but you didn’t stay that way for long.”

“Don’t.”

He ignores Adonis’s protest. “Last night meant something to me, no matter how messy it is. Now, you know what she needs. Give it to her.”

“What she needs is a good night’s rest and an increased security force.”

I can’t let that stand. “I know what I need. I don’t need the two of you to decide it for me.”

Hephaestus gives a rough chuckle. “By all means, Wife, use your big-girl words and tell us.”

I need to be safe. I need to have one corner of this godsforsaken city where I’m able to rest and not have to worry about a knife in my back, literal or otherwise. I need to stop hurting the people I most care about with every move I make.

I don’t say the words. I can’t. Not now. Not ever. They might honestly be here to make me feel better, but that doesn’t change the fact that both have worked against me in the last few days. I can’t trust them.

Gods, I’m so tired.

I close my eyes. For once, the truth works better than any lie could. “I need to come so hard I forget everything that happened today.”

Adonis exhales harshly. For a moment, I think he’ll start arguing again, but he just runs his hands up my legs, careful to avoid the scattering of bandages. They’re both touching me so gently. Adonis and I were together long enough that we tried every flavor of sex we were interested in, so gentle isn’t out of the realm of normal for him.

But my husband?

There’s no time to spiral into worry about what this might do to the power games between us. Not with Adonis pressing my thighs wide and wedging his broad shoulders between them. I go up onto my toes, but he anticipates me, draping one leg over his shoulder.

Then his mouth is on my pussy and I can’t think of anything at all.

Giving up control feels a bit like jumping out of a plane. The ground approaches with each slow drag of Adonis’s tongue against my clit, but I don’t care, because in this moment I feel weightless and free. I close my eyes and give myself over to this experience. Gods, I missed you.

The consequences can wait until morning.

“That’s right, Wife. Relax against me.” Hephaestus’s low voice in my ear makes me shiver. “Doesn’t his mouth feel good? Hard to worry about anything with him sucking on your clit.”

Adonis responds by doing exactly that. He sucks hard on my clit. We’ve been lovers for a third of my life. He knows my body as well as I do, and he proves it by pressing two fingers into me and zeroing in on my G-spot in exactly the motion I like best.

I moan. I don’t even have time to consider keeping the sound internal. Hephaestus inhales sharply. For a moment I think—I fear—that he’ll do something to stop the orgasm rising in gentle waves, urged on by Adonis’s tongue against my clit and his fingers inside me. He doesn’t. He just tightens his grip around my hips, helping Adonis keep me off the ground. I’m held suspended between them, and another time that would freak me the fuck out, but right now I just want someone else to take control.

“Let Adonis make you feel good.” A pause. “He needs it as much as you do.”

I tense, my mind trying to fight through the haze of pending orgasm to worry about what Hephaestus is talking about. It’s too late. My body has the wheel, and it’s intent on its pleasure. The wave crests between one breath and the next, sending me shuddering into an orgasm.

Too good. It’s too fucking good.

“Up, Adonis. Let’s move this to the bedroom.”

I can’t think clearly enough to decide whether that is the best idea or the worst. Especially when Adonis scoops me into his arms and it feels like coming home. If I was a little stronger, a little less rattled, a little steadier, I would hold myself apart as much as possible. It’s the smart thing to do. Adonis might have come riding to my rescue tonight, but that doesn’t change what I’ve done to him in the name of duty. What’s no longer between us because of the choices I’ve made.

But I’m not stronger, or less rattled, or steady. I’m scared out of my mind and doing my best to keep it locked down. It’s the only excuse I have for laying my head against his shoulder and admitting, “I miss you.”

He tightens his arms around me. “I miss you, too.”

It strikes me, as Adonis walks into my bedroom and Hephaestus follows us in and shuts the door, that I might be playing right into my husband’s hands. If he intends to rip my heart out, putting Adonis back in my bed is a good plan.

I don’t care. I might never get this again. I’ll deal with the inevitable pain in order to have this right now.

Hephaestus’s hands fall to the front of his pants. “That was a good start, but you’re still thinking too hard. Take off your clothes, Wife. Tonight, the only fight is seeing who can make you come the most.”