Dreams and Reality

DREAMS AND REALITY

" G rayson?"

Erik's hand reached out as the memories dissipated from around us. My eyes flicked up to his face which was etched with worry lines.

It had been my idea—my desire—to have a peek into Quentin's memories. She was closed about her past. My faux pas of going through her belongings had led to an argument, and that was before I knew she belonged to me. But that incident left me with an itch that I longed to scratch. Even if she had gotten rid of her engagement ring and told Ethan there was no longer a life for them, I needed to know what she ever saw in that mortal.

There was nothing spectacular. For all my golden girl's brilliance, she settled for mediocre in her taste in men. Minimal effort and lacklustre love. It was Quentin who organised dates and Quentin who initiated intimacy. She poured from her cup with the hope of having it returned. I maintained that love caused the most intelligent people to make the stupidest decisions, and I imagined that was why she accepted a proposal from that pathetic waste of space.

All of that was easy to digest but it was the last memory that had left me tense.

"Gray," Erik tried again, dropping his hand. "This was her past. You are her future."

Erik. Ever the optimist.

But he didn't understand. A part of her past could never be our future. The dates, the proposal—it irked me. They were mild irritations that I was able to look past because she had chosen me, but the last memory hit deeper than I expected.

Quentin looked young as she sat in the small bathroom of a flat, staring at the counter. When the alarm rang on her phone, she pushed herself away from the wall and sucked in a deep breath. Erik's powers amplified the love she felt in the memory. The hope and the joy. And I sensed the chaos that flittered beneath the surface as she swiped the pregnancy test off the counter and stared at the window. Negativity rolled in waves, extinguishing the previous flames of elation.

"Don't be stupid, Quentin," she muttered harshly to herself, stuffing the test in the bin. She concealed it beneath wrappers, make-up wipes, and cotton pads. "It's not the right time. What were you thinking?"

The disappointment was palpable, and she shouldered it alone.

"Gray!" Erik's voice became a far-off sound as I cloaked myself in my aura and returned home to Quentin. He would know better than to follow me. Had Sloan been around, I might have stayed. Persuaded my sister-in-law to tell me what she saw for our future in a desperate attempt to dampen the sudden sinking feeling that threatened to consume me.

When I discovered Quen was my soulbound, I promised myself that I would give her anything she desired. No more half-assed attempts of love. She would not beg or plead or make herself lesser than she was in order to get crumbs.

But a child?

At home, Quentin had dismantled the sofa, decorating the floor with cushions while she searched frantically for something. Papers were spread haphazardly across the coffee table and three mugs sat on the bookshelves, no doubt filled with contents that had long gone cold.

This was how I knew her. Too bright for her own good and every ounce of scattiness to match. She was a woman who frustrated me so much I had longed for her demise until I tasted her. Until I understood that there would never be anyone in an eternity that could match the flame she stoked inside of me.

"What do you want?" The words left my mouth with a harshness and a bite that I hadn't intended.

Quentin didn't even flinch. She was becoming used to her powers and the perks it brought her. The presence of a God was no longer shocking to her, not when her divinity allowed her to sense it.

Straightening up, she huffed a sigh. "I want my Godsdamned highlighter."

The corner of my mouth twitched as I suppressed a smile. Without any context she assumed I meant what she was looking for in that precise moment.

I stalked towards her, watching as her eyes narrowed. The question would always remain if Quentin could ever fully trust me. Love me? There was no doubt. It was what she was designed for, but trust… Trust was a value that Quen gave out so sparingly and the scars of our past had yet to heal.

An onyx tendril of my aura pushed out towards her. Her reaction was instantaneous. The room was suddenly bathed in a golden glow that would be blinding to any mortal.

I clucked my tongue. "Why so nervous today?"

She closed her eyes for a moment before pinning me with them. "You don't sound like you're in the best mood. Who knows what's going to turn up at my door?"

My fist clenched and I raised it to my chest, mimicking the motion of being stabbed. "What have I told you about character assassination? I never bring trouble to your door."

"You have got to be kidding me—"

"Golden girl, all your troubles are down to you, and if you must blame a God then I would start and end with Hunter."

She opened her mouth and closed it again, drawing her lips into a thin line. It never took much to tip Quentin's mood into one of disdain.

My aura snaked around the back of her body and pulled her flush against mine. Soft curves pressed against me, and the scent of orange blossom filled my nose. This time, I failed to hide my smile as she slapped her hands against my chest and tried to push away.

"Is anything with you not a fight?" I asked, plucking a pastel purple highlighter out of her hair with my fingers. As I presented it to her, between us, the long tresses that had been in a neat bun tumbled down around her shoulders.

Quentin reached out to snatch it from me.

"Quentin," I said, pulling it out of reach. "Your manners truly are terrible."

"Talk to my boyfriend," she grumbled in return as she pushed up on her toes and continued to reach for it. "He's a bad influence and I'm learning from him."

I rolled my eyes but didn't argue. My moral compass was slightly crooked and that meant my manners weren't always the most polished. If she wanted to blame me, she could. I knew it ran deeper than that. We were two sides of the same soul.

"I'll give it to you on one condition."

Quentin dropped back down and looked up at me curiously. "What condition?"

"That you answer a question."

Her features morphed from hard to smug and her golden aura melted back towards her body. I was after answers and Quentin was only too happy to oblige. Any chance she had to flex her knowledge and wisdom, she grabbed violently with both hands. I felt a deep desire for my soulbound as I watched her preen in front of me, unaware that the question was not one she would be prepared for.

"Go ahead," Quen prompted eagerly.

"What do you want?" This time, the question was softer. It was wrapped in curiosity and layered in care.

Puzzlement creased her brow, and the answer came after a short silence. "My highlighter."

A considerable amount of restraint was taken not to roll my eyes again. That would just cause us to descend into an argument, which was the opposite of what I was trying to achieve. Quen needed to be in a good mood to offer me the crumb of vulnerability I was after.

"I don't mean immediately," I told her, gently tugging at a lock of her hair. "I meant in the future. What is it you desire?"

"I don't know." She ducked away from my touch and turned away, seemingly uninterested in her stationary.

"I don't believe you." I followed her as she moved towards the kitchen. "You're a woman with a five-year, no, ten-year plan. You want me to believe you're just winging it through life?"

"Well, all my plans went out the window when I fell in love with the God of Chaos, found out that I am a demigoddess, and have the head of the Gods threatening my life if I don't learn to control my powers. Adaptability is key to survival."

"And yet some of our desires remain the same. Basic desires that are rooted into us."

She spun around to face me, abandoning the mug she was preparing on the counter. "What are you trying to find out? What are you digging for?"

"I want to know you better."

"Bullshit. You can find out anything you want but there's something you want me to talk to you about, so why don't you just tell me?"

My arms caged her in against the counter, knuckles turning white as I dug my fingers into the hard surface and I stared down at her. The highlighter clattered as it hit the floor and rolled out of sight. There was a steely determination in her dark eyes, and I should have known better than to try and lure her into a false sense of security.

"A family," I said eventually. "Children. Do you want them?"

Quentin blinked a few times as the colour drained from her cheeks. "It's hardly a conversation that's on the table."

"I just brought it to the table, so kindly answer," I said through gritted teeth.

"You bulldozed it through the walls," she muttered under her breath. "Gray, whether I do or not—"

"Stop." It was a barked demand that had her close her mouth. "I want honesty, Quentin. Do you want children?"

She finally broke, unable to hold my gaze. Her chin dropped towards her chest and she exhaled an unsteady breath. "I always hoped that children would be part of my future."

"If that's what you want—"

"Adaptability is key to survival, Grayson." Quentin lifted her head to look at me. "Children aren't part of the plan anymore. They can't be."

Quentin was a demigoddess and her own existence ruffled feathers amongst all Elysia. She was seen as a danger. An abomination. If they allowed her to exist it would come with the strict stipulation that there would be no more.

"And you're happy to accept that?"

"I don't really have another choice." Her tone said that was as much of the conversation as she was willing to have with me.

And what more could I add? I knew this would be the outcome. The disappointment she felt in that memory was to be healed one day, if only she were mortal. But as a demigoddess, Quentin would be bound to knowing that she was an exception to the rule and no more mistakes could be made. She wouldn't be as ruthless and selfish as Mallory. Quentin would never have a baby and abandon her the way she had been.

"What about you? Are you happy to accept that? Because I see the way you dote on Erik's kids. They're your world."

My nephews and niece were a bright spot in all of the chaos and destruction that clouded my world. They were the perfect combination of Erik and Sloan and I spoiled them for no other reason than I could. When they looked at me, all they saw was their favourite uncle and not a monster who was capable of mass destruction. It was easy with them.

For the centuries that I'd been alive, I'd never entertained the thought of my own children. I barely tolerated the company of others until I met Quentin. Isolation was the mistress I listened to until my soulbound tipped my entire world off its axis. Now, I couldn't breathe without her. Quen's absence in my life, no matter how short, led to a physical pain that I couldn't bear. She had become the light in all my darkness and without her I was nothing.

I took my hands away from the counter and cupped her face. "Nothing is more important to me than you and your life."

Her skin heated under my palms and I felt the rhythmic thump of her heart. Leaning down, I kissed her softly, tasting coffee and raspberry jam.

"I hope that I am enough for you," I whispered against her lips before pulling back.

Quen cocked her head to the side. "Grayson," she hesitated.

"What is it?"

"You drive me insane, but you make me happier than I have been in a long time." She caught my wrists in her hands and pulled mine away from her face. Quen pressed a kiss against each of my palms before letting them go. "You made me believe in love again. I'm not throwing that away for anything."

The unfamiliar flutter in my chest felt more intense than it had in months. Erik told me it was love. That there were multiple things my body did in order to accommodate for the joy and trust and love that flushed through my veins when Quentin was around. Sometimes they were more pronounced than others.

Stooping down, I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder.

"Grayson!" she protested. "I have work to do."

"I don't care," I told her, marching out of the kitchen.

Words had never been my forte. And it became worse when faced with emotions I couldn't fully comprehend. But I knew I was capable of showing my golden girl how much I appreciated her for giving up one of her dreams and professing that I would be enough for her. I would worship her the way no other being would be able to.

The piece you have just read is a deleted scene that is part of the Elysian Gods series. If you are interested in finding out more about Quentin and Grayson, find the start of their story in Of Gods & Monsters.