31. Adonis

31

ADONIS

I’m not really surprised when Eris texts me an invite to have lunch with her. We’d been hurtling along before she broke up with me and married Theseus. Crashing into each other and away again. I used to be so sure I knew where we were headed before that point, and then when it ended, I was certain it had ended for good this time.

I’m not sure of anything anymore.

Her building looks exactly the same as it has every other time I’ve come here. There’s no way to tell from the street that violence was committed here just yesterday.

I push through the door and smile. “Hey, Sele.”

“Hey, Adonis.” They tuck a strand of hair behind their ear. “You’re looking good.”

“Thanks.” I examine the new glass divider. If I hadn’t spent a whole lot of time in this place, I don’t know if I’d notice it’s different from the last one. Both have a floral pattern etched into frosted glass. They both even have roses in the design. But it’s not the same. “Is she in her office?”

“Yes, she’s expecting you.” They tap a few keys on their keyboard. “You can go back.”

I find Eris standing in front of her desk, frowning at a bag with takeout in it. She glances up at me, and her eyes go soft. “Hey.”

“Hey.” I wish things could be as easy between us as they used to be, but I’m not sure if it’s even possible. It’s a mistake to wish for that, too, but I don’t care. My heart is already in tatters. Might as well light it on fire. I nod at the bag. “You got us lunch already?”

“Not me.” She goes back to staring at the bag as if it’s a snake ready to strike. “Pandora sent it, along with a bitingly polite note saying she expects me to eat a proper amount and not skip this meal in favor of working.”

I raise my brows. “She knows you well.”

“Apparently.” She sighs and shakes her head. “Sorry, this just threw me. It showed up right as I was about to order for us.” She pokes at the bag tentatively. “There’s enough food here to feed a small army, so I think it should work for the two of us.”

It’s a challenge to hold my tongue as she carefully arranges the takeout on her desk. Silences between us used to be comfortable. Now they’re thorny with things left unsaid. Do I apologize? Do I demand she apologize? What do we even talk about now? Gods, this is so awkward. It’s the only excuse I have for blurting out, “You like her a lot.”

Eris freezes. “Yes, I do.”

I wait for jealousy or anger or hurt. Instead, all I feel is confusion. We’ve never had anything resembling a traditional relationship before, but I don’t know if we have a relationship at all right now. “I see.”

She sits back and meets my gaze. “You like him a lot, too.”

Guilt flares, but it’s dulled by the truth. “Yeah. A lot.”

Her lips curve, but her eyes are sad. “I meant what I said last night. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” But I can’t leave it at that. It seems impossible that priorities in my life would shift in just a few short days, but it’s happened all the same. “If you’ve asked me here to convince me to do something to hurt Theseus, I’m not going to do it.”

“And yet you were willing to work with him to hurt me.” She holds up a hand before I can sputter out a response. “I don’t blame you for it, Adonis. I know I broke your heart. I’m sorry for that.”

I don’t ask her if she’d do anything differently if she could go back. I already know the answer. Eris loves me, but her first priority will always be this city. “So where does that leave us?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?” She sinks onto her chair, looking tired. “I’m going to be frank with you.”

“When have you been anything but frank with me?”

A small smile is her only acknowledgment of that truth. “We have to bring my husband over to our side.”

I shake my head slowly. “I just told you—”

“And I’m telling you that we have to bring him to our side. In three days.”

Three days? I huff out a laugh. “You don’t ask for much, do you? That timeline is impossible. You’re setting yourself up for failure.”

“I’d better not be.” She slumps back in her chair. “It’s the only way we can keep him alive.”

I blink. “Excuse me?”

“My brother is going to kill him if we can’t pull this off.”

Shock roots me in place. I play her words back through my head, but they don’t make any more sense now than they did a few seconds ago. “Impossible.”

“You’d be surprised. If Zeus wants someone dead, they’re not long for this world.”

The tone in her voice makes me think she’s not talking about this Zeus as much as the last one. Her father. The long shadow that poisoned so much of her childhood. The man who taught her that the only way to survive was to tread others underfoot. I don’t blame her for surviving; I’ll never blame her for that.

But sometimes, in the dark of the night, I wonder what it might have been like if her mother had lived. If her early years hadn’t been a training ground for what Zeus considered good leadership. If she hadn’t watched her father marry and then—allegedly—kill two more women.

“Stop that.”

I jolt. “Stop what?”

She gives me a knowing look. “You’re thinking dark thoughts about my father. He’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

If only that were true. I shake my head sharply. She’s right. This line of thinking isn’t helping anyone. I swallow hard. “Your brother can’t seriously mean to kill your husband.”

“I highly doubt he’ll do it personally.” She makes a face. “Then again, he’s acting out of character, so I can’t take anything for granted.”

The very idea of Zeus being off the rails is, frankly, terrifying. We survived under the last one because he was more invested in being a charming dictator than actively feared, though fear was an undercurrent to his reign. Perseus doesn’t have that charm. He’s not the kind of man who can tempt people to flock to his side and curry his favor.

If he goes this route, his only option will be to rule through fear.

“The Thirteen gave their word that Theseus would not be harmed as long as he went through with the marriage to you.”

“I know.” She drops her gaze. “This is the part where I say they likely won’t do it personally, so it’s a tiny loophole to giving their word, but… I know.”

Her resignation worries me as much as everything else we’re talking about. Eris is never resigned. She’s a fighter to her core, but there’s no way she could have anticipated this from her brother. “Tell me that your brother isn’t turning into your father.”

“He would never.” Her eyes flash. “All my father wanted was power over others. Perseus wants the same thing I do—for our city and our people to be safe.”

Maybe. Probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that Eris has already proven that she’ll trample individuals for the greater good. The Thirteen are supposed to be equal in power, but it’s not the truth. Hades. Poseidon. Zeus. They stand above the others as legacy titles. If one of them decides to truly abuse that power… I don’t know what would happen. “Eris,” I say quietly. “I know he’s your brother, but Zeus or not, he can’t go around murdering people.”

She doesn’t look happy. “I think you’ll find that he can do whatever he damn well pleases. Especially when he has the support of several key members of the Thirteen.” Eris shakes her head hard. “He’s not bluffing, Adonis. Whatever my feelings on his plan, the fact remains that we either have to take action or stand by while he makes me a widow.”

I drag my hands over my face. I knew having lunch with Eris would be difficult, but not even I could have anticipated the direction this conversation has gone. “I would think that would make you happy. Being a widow, I mean.”

“I would have thought so, too.” She leans her head back against her chair, leaving the long line of her throat exposed. There’s a faint mark there, one she’s almost successfully covered up with makeup. I can’t begin to tell if it’s from me or Theseus, but I recognize the heat that blooms in my chest in response. I’m not overly possessive by nature, but she was ours to take care of last night, and there’s something truly powerful about that.

“Eris…”

“I don’t want him dead.” The words burst out of her. She stares at the ceiling. “My life would be significantly simpler if I did. He’s a pain in the ass. He’s crude and violent and a threat to everything I hold dear.”

I wait, but she doesn’t immediately continue. Nothing she’s said is wrong. I feel the same way, which is why I know there’s more to it. “But?”

“But.” She exhales slowly. “I’m not one to care about a sob story, but he’s got quite the sob story. It doesn’t excuse what he’s done, but I understand it, and I resent that I understand it. He’s very bad at comfort, which is almost a comfort in and of itself, because he tries. With me, a woman he should hate.” She lifts her head and meets my gaze. “He also fucks like a dream.”

Yes, that about sums it up. Theseus is rough and downright vicious at times, but he’s not a one-note individual. “I don’t think you can turn him at all, let alone in three days,” I say quietly.

“Maybe. Probably.” She gives herself a shake. “But apparently I’m not quite the monster I thought, because I want to try. Pandora doesn’t like our odds, but she admits there’s a slim chance we could do it. Will you help me?”

Yes.Fool that I am, I want to try, too. No matter that he’s an enemy, or why he came here in the first place. I care about him and I want to help, and it’s enough for me to start to nod before I catch myself.

But I do catch myself.

Because Theseus isn’t the only barrier between us and a happy, peaceful future.

“What about you and me? If you manage to pull this off and we save him, where does that leave us?”

“Us.” She presses her lips together. “I’d like to ask you a question.”

I already know I won’t like it, not with her studying me so seriously, but I nod all the same. This is going to hurt, but so much of being with Eris hurts. I’m all but used to the experience. “Okay.”

She opens her mouth, pauses, and then seems to force the words out. “Do you think we worked on our own? Really worked?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that of course we worked. I love this woman, thorns and vicious ambition and all. I have for a very long time. I will continue loving her until my dying day, whether or not we’re together.

But the more I turn her words over, examining them from different angles, the more I wonder if there aren’t layers I’ve been intentionally ignoring for too many years. “What do you mean?”

“Far be it from me to pretend I know what a healthy relationship looks like, but I don’t think it’s two people crashing together and away again repeatedly over a decade.” She looks down at her hands, twisting her fingers in her lap. “I think neither of us were entirely honest with each other about what we wanted—what we needed.”

Blaming her for that would be so easy. She never cheated on me, but she also never waited long after our breakup fights to be photographed with others, and I know Eris well enough to know those photographs weren’t for publicity’s sake. She took those people home where the sheets were still warm in our bed.

But was I any different? My time with others hasn’t been as blatantly publicized, but I was hardly celibate during our breaks. If I’m going to be honest—and I can be nothing but honest right now—part of me was relieved for that freedom even as I missed her.

“What are you saying?”

She seems to force her hands apart. “I’m saying…” Another of those long exhales. “That neither of us is really built for monogamy, and maybe if we stop trying to cram ourselves into that box, we’ll be happier. Maybe if we try something new we can have some semblance of a steady, healthy relationship.” She shrugs. “It’s working out for my sister. Maybe it would work out for us, too.”

Part of me wants to argue. My parents are incredibly happy and stable without needing to be polyamorous. A lot of people are. But I can’t argue because Eris is right. “Last night…”

“It fit.” She gives a soft smile. “I don’t even like him most of the time, but I can’t pretend that it didn’t feel like you and I suddenly balanced each other out in a way that I’ve never felt before.”

That’s exactly it. It felt balanced. There’s something deeply ironic about Theseus potentially being the stabilizing glue that holds us together. I swallow hard. “And Pandora?”

“I like her. A lot.” That softness on her face becomes more pronounced. “If there’s a way we can make it work with the four of us, I would very much like to. I know that sounds naive considering our current climate and the fact that both Theseus and I might be dead before too long, but—”

“You won’t die.” I refuse to let it happen.

This morning, I was still reeling from being in bed with Theseus and Eris, but it was downright lovely in the kitchen with the four of us, Pandora and Theseus bickering in the way only longtime friends can, Eris relaxed and indulgent, and me… I could be at home there. It felt almost wrong to want that in the moment, but maybe that was because it clashed with what I thought I should have.

“I want it, too. Him with us.” I take a deep breath. “But three days to make it happen? That’s an impossible task.”

“Maybe.” She pushes one of the containers over to me. “Eat something and let’s talk. We might come up with something brilliant.”

“You have a lot of faith in us.” I take the container and start to eat. Strangely enough, I’m not even remotely surprised to find Pandora has divined Eris’s favorite restaurant and ordered the takeout from there. It might be a manipulation tactic, but I don’t think so. She obviously cares for Eris as much as Eris cares for her.

Eris taps her fork against the side of her container. “What if we tie him to my bed and fuck him until he can’t think of anything but us?”

A surge of heat goes through my body at the thought. I like what I’ve shared with Theseus when it’s just the two of us, but I like what we shared with the three of us, too. I clear my throat. “That might work, but only until he recovers his senses.” We share a look and I surprise myself by laughing. “Eris, we can’t keep him chained to our bed indefinitely.”

“Pity.” Her smile. “I like that. Our bed.” She lifts her drink. “Let’s make it the truth.”

Two days ago, I never could have guessed that I’d be here, contemplating a future with the woman I loved and lost and the completely unsuitable man that I’ve teetered right over the edge of falling for. Now, I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

I touch my drink to hers. “Deal.”