19 The Minotaur

19

The Minotaur

I can't stop myself from following Ariadne and Dionysus back to his building. I stand in the shadows across the street for far too long, as if my presence there will do a single goddamn thing. For once, no Olympians show up to irritate me. I'm left to my own thoughts, and it's a strange place to be.

She's finally starting to understand that I'm not here to hurt her. I loved watching her dark eyes go all soft as she finally made peace with that reality, but there's still a jagged piece of glass in my chest. It was easy enough to anticipate her needs and take care of them tonight, but I'm not soft. I'm pretty fucking sure that she was just being a brat in the changing room yesterday, but it's hard to get those words out of my head. Soft. It might not get her off as hard as being bad does, but Ariadne deserves softness.

She deserves to be with someone whose hands aren't stained with blood and death.

Which is too damn bad, because what she has is me. I just don't want her getting the wrong idea. I don't know how to be a boyfriend. I don't know how to be in a fucking relationship. With Ariadne, just existing in her presence is as natural as breathing. I want to believe that won't change, but if I really think that, then I am as naive as I labeled her.

My entire fucking life has been geared toward claiming Ariadne. It was a goalpost that kept moving through the years, Minos always pushing it out just a little farther. Part of me honestly believed it would never happen. It still hasn't happened. But now that Ariadne is starting to understand what the fuck we are to each other, there's a very real possibility she will leave the city with me when the barrier comes down. That she'll choose to go without me having to twist her arm.

And then what?

I had vague ideas of traveling with her, but now that reality is bearing down on me, I don't know what the fuck that even looks like. I have money, but not an endless amount. I only have one skill set, and somehow I think Ariadne will have a problem with me taking hits to fund our lifestyle.

Oh well. I'll figure it out once we get out of this fucked-up city.

***

Ariadne

I'm still reeling an hour after we returned to Dionysus's penthouse. It feels like I just took a step to one side and now my entire perspective of the world has changed. Maybe that was reality this entire time and I just couldn't see it.

A knock on my door startles me, but only for a moment. "Yes?"

"Come have a drink with me. All that pacing and stressing isn't good for the body."

I smile a little despite everything and pull a robe around me. "Okay." Maybe one day I'll stop finding it strange how much I enjoy Dionysus's company. Maybe I'll never get a chance to become used to it.

He's in the kitchen, this time with a bottle of wine. When I raise my brows, he shrugs. "It seems like you need to talk, and wine is excellent for those types of conversation."

I watch him pour the deep red liquid into large wineglasses. "I guess I never really thought about what kind of alcohol best fits different types of conversation."

"Not just alcohol, my dear." He hands over my glass. "Let's sit."

It's not until I'm curled on the couch opposite him that I really stop to think about whether this is wise. Dionysus has shown me every kindness, but that doesn't mean he's an ally. This could all be a ploy to get information and… I don't know if I care. I'm so damned tired of being worried about making missteps. "Thank you for that break at dinner. It was much needed."

"Mmm." He swirls his wine absently. "I'm glad you had a chance to eat in peace."

I freeze. Surely he's not… But when I look into his deep eyes, I realize that he knows exactly what I spent that time away from the table doing. "How did you—"

"Darling, you weren't exactly subtle, and Pan might not be my biggest fan, but he is a fan of Olympus, so he still passes on information he thinks is of value." He sips his wine. "Don't look so worried. I am glad you had a moment of peace and a chance to eat."

"A moment of peace." I shift and make a face. "I don't know if you could call it that."

"I suppose." He shrugs and settles back into his chair, stretching out his long legs onto the ottoman. I belatedly realize that he's wearing a dressing gown, which is so perfectly Dionysus that I almost smile.

We sit in companionable silence for a long time, long enough for the tension to start bleeding out of my body and the wine to warm my insides. When he finally speaks again, it's with a slow drawl that barely bruises the comfortable air between us. "You love him, don't you?"

I try to tense, but truly it's too much effort. There's a relief in hearing those words spoken aloud, in his tone having no judgment whatsoever. "Yes. I have for a long time, even if I was too scared to admit it."

He rests his head on the back of his chair, staring at the ceiling. "Thought so."

I should probably leave it at that, but words bubble up all the same, drawn out by the strange feeling of safety Dionysus has created here. "What does it matter how I feel? He owes everything to my father. For almost half my life, he's been doing whatever he was commanded. If I trust this—trust him—it might be the last thing I do."

Dionysus's lips curve in a sad little smile. "Darling, considering three of my people died on the first night you were here, two on the other side of that door…" He nods at the door just visible down the shadowy hallway. "I would venture to say if he really planned to commit violence against you, he would have already done it."

"But—"

"Life is short. Or long, I suppose, depending on how you look at it." He drains half his wineglass. "You've already taken astronomical risks to help others. Maybe it's time to take one to help yourself."

I inhale slowly, letting his words settle over me. It's shocking how tempting they are. The very idea of walking willingly to the cliff that represents my and Asterion's relationship, of jumping over and letting faith in him, in me, in us , guide me… It's terrifying. It's exhilarating. "What if it ends badly?"

"That's the wrong question." He finishes his wine and climbs slowly to his feet. "The question you should be asking is what if it ends well?" He walks over and plucks my mostly empty glass from my fingers. "Come along. I think you might be able to sleep now."

Indeed, my eyelids are already starting to get heavy. Too heavy to blame on the wine. I lean on his arm and blink up at him. "Did you drug me?"

"Only a light sedative. You need your rest." He walks me to my door and then helps me stumble to my bed. Dionysus smiles down at me, though his eyes are still sad. "You're strong, Ariadne. Strong and good and far cleverer than most people. I suspect you already know what you need to do."

I suspect he's right. Still, I grab his hand and stop him from retreating. "Thank you. For everything. You didn't have to show me such kindness. I'll never forget it."

Dionysus squeezes my hand. "I'd wish you good luck, but you don't need it. Good night."

***

The Minotaur

The next day, I'm still trying to figure out what my next steps are when someone buzzes my front door. I hit the intercom. "What?"

"Let me in."

I blink. I didn't expect anyone to be here, let alone Ariadne. I'm not about to turn her away, though. I hit the door buzzer to let her in and have to fight down the weird-ass urge to pick up around the place. It's not messy. She's been here before. But the urge remains all the same.

She's perfectly put together as she steps into my apartment, wearing one of her new dresses, and I'm no expert in fashion, but it seems too fancy for wandering around town in the early hours of the morning, its silky texture clinging to her breasts and stomach and hips before fluttering down around her knees. The pale-purple fabric looks soft and fragile enough to tear beneath rough hands. It's also fitted in a way that makes me wonder what she's wearing underneath it…and what she isn't.

Need hits me hard enough to make my voice harsh. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought you would appreciate me being punctual." She surveys the apartment as if seeing it for the first time and holds up a zip drive without looking at me. It strikes me that she looks well rested—even more so than when she left the other night. There's no reason for the spike of jealousy that knowledge brings. I want her to be okay. But there is a monstrous part of me that's so damn pleased at the idea that she only sleeps well with me.

I clear my throat, trying to shake off the feeling. "This is more than punctual. You're early."

"I am. I had some questions for you, and I thought it best we talk in private."

I narrow my eyes. There's something in her tone, a new determination that I know better than to trust. "You're making it sound like you'll be involved in this beyond getting the blueprints. Get that thought right out of your fucking head. You're not going anywhere near that tower, the barrier, or Zeus."

"We'll see." She shrugs out of her jacket and tosses it over the back of a chair. Which showcases the fact that the back of the dress is made entirely of straps pressing against her skin from the top of her shoulders to the jaunty little bow at the small of her back. Two things become clear in the space of a heartbeat.

One: She's not wearing a single fucking thing underneath that dress.

And two: There's no way she could have gotten into it on her own.

Jealousy surges forward and pours out of my mouth before I can call it back. "Who tied that bow for you, sweetheart?"

"I'll make you a deal." She sets the zip drive carefully on the coffee table and turns to perch on the edge of it. Ariadne meets my gaze boldly, not a hint of fear in her dark eyes. Something's different. But before I can figure out what changed, she keeps speaking. "I'll tell you who helped me into this dress…if you answer a question for me."

I take two steps toward her before I can stop myself. And then I wonder why the fuck I bothered to stop at all. If she came here only to deliver the blueprints, she would've shown up right on time, not early. That wouldn't have stopped us from putting our hands all over each other just like we have every time we've been alone, but she could've pretended that she wasn't planning on it.

But this? The sun's barely up in the fucking sky and she's knocking on my door. This doesn't feel like that frenzied fuck on my bed, where she was looking for sex and sex alone before she bolted back to her fiancé. This is…different. She knows what this is. Me? I'm still figuring it out.

I stop in front of her, close enough that her knees bump mine. Close enough to intimidate. "Sure. I'll play your game. What's your question?"

She lifts her hand slowly and hooks her fingers into the front of my pants. One tug and I'm standing between her thighs, but she makes no move to do anything else. She licks her lips. "Asterion?"

Oh fuck. Even as I tell myself to move, to speak, to do fucking something , I stand there as still as a statue and watch her unbutton the front of my jeans and drag my zipper down. The moment she touched me, my cock hardened, but now it's pressing so tightly to the front of my jeans that it's a wonder I'm not losing circulation.

Did she say something? I'm having a hard time concentrating. "Yeah?"

She tugs my jeans down just a little so she can stroke my cock through my boxers. It's a light, teasing touch. It's fucking heaven. She licks her lips again, as if I'm not already possessed by the fantasy of pressing my cock into her mouth, of watching her swallow me down until tears spring to her eyes and she gags on my length.

Ariadne gives me a heartbreaking smile that's completely at odds with her fingertips coasting up and down my length. "That time in the maze. My first time."

I'm having a difficult time thinking, let alone trying to anticipate where she's going with this. "Yeah? What about it?"

She presses her thumb to the sensitive spot just under the head of my cock. "Was it… Was it your first time too?"

It takes far too long for her words to penetrate. The meaning washes over me, and I'm not a man who wastes time with regret, but it sinks its claws into me all the same. My stomach twists. I have to actually take a step back to break her hold on me. I don't want to muddy this moment with my past, but her words have skeletons I barely think about rattling around in their closets. "That's a ridiculous fucking question, Ariadne."

"Is it?" She watches me with narrowed eyes. "I don't think so."

Fuck. She's really going to make me say it. I take a step back and drag a hand over my face. I can't bring myself to look at her. "Listen, we've known each other a long time, and I don't talk about what happened before I came into your father's household, but I did a lot of shit to stay alive. To ensure I didn't starve."

She's still watching me too closely. It makes me feel like my heart is beating on the outside of my skin, exposed and uncomfortable. Vulnerable. If she looks at me with pity, I might have to leave the fucking room. But she just tilts her head to the side and seems to consider something. "Before. What about after?"

I shake my head sharply. "It's always been you. I'm not interested in anyone else. I haven't been since we met." And Minos knew better than to send me on those kinds of missions, if they even existed in the first place.

"You were thirteen when we met."

I swing back around to face her. There's something tight and hot in my chest. "No, I was fourteen when I moved in."

"Yes, I know that." She waves it away. "But that day in the market. You were thirteen then, right? It was winter, so it was well before your birthday."

She remembers.

I rock back on my heels, that feeling of vulnerability threatening to sweep me away. I don't have it in me to lie. Not to her. Not like this. "Yeah. I was thirteen then." I speak so softly, it barely counts as a whisper. She hears me anyway. Of course she does.

"One last question." She seems to lean forward, gravitating toward me without moving an inch. "Would you have chosen any of those people if the alternative wasn't starving to death or some other awful outcome?"

"No," I say softly. There it is. The ugly truth. Maybe it would feel less ugly if I had chosen them. I don't think so. I was just a fucking kid. Trauma can make you grow up fast, but in the end, it's not a substitute for the life experience that comes with a few decades on this goddamn rock orbiting the sun. I'm grateful to the kid I was. He did what it took to survive, to bring me to her. The cost is barely worth counting.

Her lips curve a little, even though her eyes stay so incredibly serious. "Then I think the maze was your first time, wasn't it?"

I stare at this woman, at the shining star that has been my guiding light for most of my fucking life. I knew from the start that I would never deserve her, but I didn't give a fuck. I wanted her all the same. And yeah, there was a moment in the maze when I was sappy enough to mourn the fact that this might be her first time, but it wasn't mine. That experience had been taken from me a very long time ago, through desperation and violence. I swallow hard. "That's not how it works."

"It is with us."

The same words I said to her back in the maze. I stare at Ariadne, and there's a part of me that almost hopes she doesn't remember. That might make this experience more bearable, this vulnerability less shocking. But no. The knowledge is there in her eyes. She knows exactly what she's saying, exactly what that sentence means to me.

To us.

I clear my throat again. "Yeah." The tightness in my chest gets stronger. Hotter. "Yeah, I guess that is how it is with us."

She holds out her hand, and I move to her on pure instinct. Ariadne lifts my hand to her face and rubs her cheek on my knuckles. "If I read this in a book, I would throw it across the room in pure disbelief. But I think there's a part of me that knew you, even then."

I scrub at my chest, but it does nothing to alleviate the thickness there. "I didn't think you remembered."

"Of course I did." Her heart is in her eyes. It's the way that I've always wanted Ariadne to look at me. The foundation has been there, but it's always been overwritten with fear or guilt or lust. Even now, my mind shies away from labeling it.

I don't know what else to say, so I speak the first thing that bursts into my mind. "You never said anything. When I showed up, when he put me to work, you acted as if it was our first time meeting."

"For a little while, I did think that. You looked so different when he introduced us that I wasn't entirely sure you were the same boy I'd seen in the courtyard."

I smirk. "A bath and haircut can do wonders." To say nothing of clean, expensive clothing. Or at least the new clothes had felt expensive and downright decadent. In hindsight, I recognize them for what they were—disposable in Minos's eyes. The cost might have been world-changing to me as a kid, but they were one step above trash to Minos.

Just like me.

"I suppose so." She presses a kiss to my wrist. "It took me a couple days, but no matter what else changed about you, your eyes were the same. They're still the same." Ariadne smiles, looking almost self-conscious. "By that, I mean you looked at me the same."

I shouldn't ask, but I can't seem to help myself. "How did I look at you, Ariadne?"

For a few moments, I think she might not answer. But she finally lifts her chin. "Like I was your everything. Like I was some goddess who wandered into your life. It made me uncomfortable as a kid because I didn't really understand it."

"And now?"

She smiles. "I still don't really understand it. I'm no goddess. I'm human and flawed right down to my bones."

I stroke her fingers with my thumb. "Not to me. To me, you're perfect, sweetheart."

That manages to fluster her when nothing else did. She sputters a little and won't quite look me in the face. It's incredibly fucking cute. Finally, she blurts out, "I like it when you call me that."

"I like calling you that." Sweetheart. Mine. It all amounts to the same thing.

She's still shifting and not quite meeting my gaze. "How are you so good at all this? I feel like I'm fumbling my way through the sex, to say nothing of this…relationship."

It's tempting to avoid answering, but she's given me a priceless gift, and at this point, it's everything I can do not to fall to my knees before her. "I read your books."

She blinks. "What?"

"Your books. The ones you only read in your room so no one else knows." Now it's my turn to shift, my skin hot. "I was curious, so I grabbed one of them. Then I'd just switch it out for the next one. Plus, sweetheart, your favorited fanfics are public. Between the two, I got a good idea of what you might like." Both in the bedroom and out of it.

"I mean, I knew it was public, but you'd have to know my screen name and…" She snorts and shakes her head. "Of course you do. How many times have I read fanfic when we spent time together over the years? I never thought you were paying attention."

"I was." Her tastes are varied and occasionally shocked even me, but I liked the little window into her fantasies. "Even without all that, it's not like you're subtle about what you like—at least when someone knows how to read you."

She kisses my knuckles. "After all this time, you're just full of surprises."

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Asterion?"

I swallow hard at the look on her face, at the way her eyes got hot, and she licks her lips slowly. "Yeah?"

"If we're talking about firsts, I've never sucked a cock before."

Suddenly, there's not enough air in the room. I think I make a sound, but it's hard to tell over the rushing blood in my ears. "I, uh, have never had mine sucked."

Her grin lights up the room. "Well, then. I have a brilliant idea."