Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

T his time, when they returned to Delos, they were guided to what appeared to be a temple not far from the theater at the base of the mountain. The building overlooked the small town on one side and a rocky overlook to the sea on the other. It was set apart from all the other buildings.

"You are to remain here," the leader said and, without waiting for a response, he turned and left quickly.

Dante watched the leader walk away, his pace quickening with every step as though he couldn't wait to put distance between them. The man hadn't even looked them in the eyes. It was like they carried a curse no one wanted to be around now.

"At first, he seemed to be helping us," Dante muttered, his eyes scanning the empty path ahead. "Now I think he's afraid of us." His voice held a bitter edge. He glanced back at Amy, who stood silently beside him, her arms wrapped around her body as if she could protect herself from the weight of everything they had learned.

The temple loomed behind them as the leader disappeared down the pathway, a grand structure compared to the simplicity of the Fates' island, yet it carried a heavy silence, almost sacred. Dante pushed open the large wooden door, and they stepped inside. The air was thick and musty, and the only sound was their footsteps echoing across the stone floor. It was bare, except for a few pieces of old furniture—benches and a large table in the center of the room, a small bed in the room towards the back.

There was no welcome, no conversation, just a sense of isolation.

"Home sweet home, I guess," he said dryly. "I guess they're serious about keeping us here," he added with a slight laugh as he ran a hand through his hair.

Amy didn't respond, just sat down on a wooden chair in the corner. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken worries. A knock at the door broke through the tension, but when Dante opened it, no one stood outside—just trays of food that had been left on the doorstep. He glanced around, but whoever had delivered the meal had quickly gone.

"Guess we're not exactly welcome dinner guests," he said, lifting the trays and carrying them to the table. "Not even a hello. They're treating us like outcasts now."

Amy sat down across from him, her eyes distant. "Maybe that's what we are now." She picked at the bread in front of her, not really eating, just tearing pieces off and setting them aside. "The Fates said we're destined for this. That we can't stop it."

Dante leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes. He hadn't been able to shake the image of the Fates from his mind—the way they had appeared young and ethereal, only to age with each word they spoke. It was like each word represented the weight of time itself.

When the sun began to set, painting the sky in streaks of red and orange, they moved outside onto the small stone balcony that overlooked the sea. The air was warm and soothing.

"At least our jail has a beautiful setting," she said softly with a sigh. "I've never seen such a colorful sunset before."

He nodded in agreement as he settled into one of the old wooden chairs, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He could feel Amy's presence beside him, quiet, contemplative. It had been hours since they returned from the Fates' temple, and still, their words echoed in his mind.

"You okay?" he asked softly, glancing sideways at her.

She leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she stared at the dark waves far below them. "I don't know," she admitted after a long pause. "It feels like no matter what we do, we're just… stuck. Like everything is out of our hands."

"Fate," Dante said sarcastically, the frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. "Yeah, I get that. It's like they already have everything planned out. We're just the pieces moving along the gods' damn game board."

Amy looked at him then, her eyes searching his. "What if they're right? What if this is supposed to happen—Pandora waking, Moros… all of it?"

Dante clenched his jaw, the thought of it twisting like a knife in his chest. "I'm not ready to accept that. I can't just… sit here and let it happen. There has to be something we can do."

"They said it's already happened," Amy reminded him, her voice soft but insistent. "That it always happens, no matter what."

He exhaled slowly, running a hand over his face. "Maybe. But I can't believe that our only purpose is to be pawns in some ancient prophecy. We're not just here to watch everything burn. There has to be another way."

Amy shifted, her gaze turning back to the sea. "I hope you're right. But what if the Fates are right, and we can't stop it? What if no matter what we do, it's already set in stone?" She was silent for a moment. "What if… waking Pandora means the end of everything that makes me, me?"

He reached over and took her hand in his. "I'll do everything in my power not to let that happen."

She sighed. "You're supposed to already be Epimetheus. Do you feel any different?"

He shook his head. "No."

"They didn't say Epimetheus had to wake, so that means you're already him. Which means, you're still you."

He nodded and agreed with her. "So maybe it's just as simple as believing you're Pandora?" he wondered out loud.

"I don't think so. They mentioned that Epimetheus had to wake Pandora." She glanced at him.

"I don't care what the Fates said," he said finally, his voice low but determined. "We make our own choices."

Amy smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You're stubborn."

"Damn right," he said, his lips twitching into a grin. "And I plan on fighting this thing until there's no fight left."

"What if…"—she bit her bottom lip, sucked it into her mouth—"we're supposed to…"

"There you go again, bringing up sex," he joked when she didn't finish her obvious thought.

"Whatever." She threw her hands up in frustration and stood against the railing. "What do you want with us?" she screamed into the night air.

He chuckled and stood beside her. "Well, from all the tales, the gods did sleep around a lot. Right?"

He placed a hand on her shoulder. "It's not like we haven't been dancing around it for years."

"Years?" she teased as she looked up at him.

"For me, yes, years," he admitted, running his eyes over her face. The moonlight made her soft skin glow. She was a goddess. The most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. There was no doubt of that.

"Okay, years," she admitted as she moved slightly closer to him. "After prom, you… never called." She tilted her head slightly.

"Things got… complicated."

"Right." She nodded. "Laura Stein complicated," she said with a slight frown.

He rolled his eyes. "She was a distraction from the scary feelings I had about you."

Her eyebrows rose slightly. "That is the lamest excuse for dumping a girl that I've ever heard."

He chuckled and pulled her closer. "We're here now. I guess that means we weren't fated to be together until now."

She softened against him. Her hands went to his shoulders. "Three thousand years give or take. I guess it was bound to happen sometime," she whispered just before their lips met.

There had been a few times in his life when he'd felt his mind, body, and heart were out of control. The moment Amy's mouth touched his, he lost every single sliver he'd ever had. His body, his desires, and his feelings for her consumed his every heartbeat.

His body stilled as she ran her hands over his arms slowly until her fingers lay flat over his chest.

"Dante," she whispered. "I don't know what's happening here but tell me you feel it too."

He nodded, unable to voice just what he felt. His fingers were firmly gripping the golden dress she wore. He was afraid that if he touched her, his very essence would explode.

"Dante, touch me," she said after the kiss deepened.

"If I do… what will happen?" he asked as her lips trailed over his neck. Then she stilled.

"I'm still me," she whispered, leaning back to look deep into his eyes. "You're Dante, I'm Amy. That's all I know."

He sighed and rested his forehead against hers.

"Neither of us can promise that," he said softly, pulling back. "If I touch you, there won't be any going back for me."

Her hand came up slowly and cupped his face.

"For either of us. There's no going back no matter what we do," she said as their eyes locked.

The sadness in her eyes almost overtook him. The pain, the sorrow of what she'd witnessed in the future. The loss she'd experienced had brought an empty look to her eyes. That look was gone when she looked at him.

"Whatever the future holds, right now, we're here. Together." She smiled slightly. "That's enough for me." She lifted on her toes and brushed her lips across his. "Let that be enough for tonight."

Feeling her body vibrate against his, he was at a complete loss. Without a word, he gently lifted her in his arms and carried her inside. When he laid her on the bed, he realized that from the moment he'd seen her again, the moment she'd come back into his life, he'd lost his heart to her.

Maybe it had never really belonged to him and had been hers all along.

Her slight smile took away the last of his strength. When he covered her body, everything he had been before melted into one thing. One goal. To protect her from whatever came next.

This time, he didn't hold back when he kissed her. His hands roamed over her body, pushing, pulling the soft material up, away, until the soft skin of her silky leg was under his fingertips.

Her nails scraped against his exposed skin. When she released a soft chuckle, he stilled.

"How do you remove this thing?" she asked, tugging on his clothes.

He smiled and in one quick swipe he had the tunic falling away.

"You're going to have to teach me how to do that." She smiled up at him. "I like this getup almost as much as your cop uniform. Sexy." She wiggled her eyebrows.

"Later," he promised and covered her body with his, settling between her thighs as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Only a thin sliver of silk separated them.

"You kept these?" he asked, running his fingers across her silk panties.

She smiled. "The last little connection to the future. Besides, I'd just purchased them."

He chuckled as he slid a fingertip over them, making her breath catch.

"I have no idea what they did with the rest of my clothes." She sighed. "You?"

He shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it."

"Dante," she whispered as she arched for him and he trailed his mouth over her shoulder.

"Tell me what you want," he said, watching her skin flush for him. "This?" he asked, and slid his finger underneath the silk to touch her. She bit her bottom lip and nodded. "More?" he asked and she nodded again.

He removed his fingers and her eyes opened. He smiled. "Tell me."

"I… want you to touch me," she whispered. "To kiss me."

"Don't be shy now," he warned with a grin.

She smiled. "Dante, touch me. Slide your fingers in me, your tongue in me. Play with my clit. Fill me." She took his wrist in her hand and pulled it back towards her. He did what she asked, gliding his fingertips over the silk until she was wet and panting, demanding him. Then he dipped down and placed his mouth over the silk. When he no longer could go without tasting her, he ripped it aside.

He didn't know how much longer he could control himself. Feeling her slickness, smelling her sweet scent of arousal, tasting her skin.

When he nudged her legs further apart so he could run his eyes over her in the moonlight, he realized just how much he'd wanted her all these years. How he'd dreamed of this very moment.

Destiny.

The three Fates had talked of this. How this moment had always been. They had been locked to this time and place. To each other.

When he slipped inside her, power surged deep in his chest, something he'd never felt before. It vibrated and warmed him from the core.

Yes. He was who he had always been. Would always be. Hers.