Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
But he never touched me.
I bury my face in his throat and shudder out a breath that’s almost a sob. “This has all gone so wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”
“I know.” He strokes a gentle hand over my hair.
“I don’t know how to feel about what keeps happening between us. About marrying Dionysus. About being a key part of the plot to kill a person, even if it will save other lives.” I cling to him harder and he responds by tightening his arms around me. It’s more difficult to speak the next bit. “I don’t know how to feel about the pregnancy or the fact that it’s gone. In another life, I would’ve been happy to have your child. But I couldn’t do it, Asterion. Not when my first thought was panic, and the fear only grew with each hour that passed.”
He presses a featherlight kiss to my forehead. “I know. You did what you had to do.”
“That’s the excuse we keep using. That we did what we had to do. That you kill people because you had to do it. That I lied and betrayed my family and country because it was something I had to do. That my brother”—again, my voice breaks—“had sex with people he never would’ve chosen with the intent to blackmail them so we can be free.”
It’s too much. I can’t stop the tears from coming or the sobs from following until I’m crying so hard I can barely breathe. And through it all, Asterion just holds me, the mountain that I can crash myself against and never have to worry about breaking.
Tomorrow, I’ll go back to fearing him.
Tomorrow, I’ll take away all these messy emotions and put one foot in front of the other just like I always have.
Tomorrow.
17
The Minotaur
Ariadne cries herself out and then falls asleep in my arms. She’s so fucking strong, but even strong people need a place and time to crumble. She’s always come to me in the past when things become too ugly in her head. It warms my heart that she did it tonight, even with everything else going on. But I can’t stop thinking about everything she said. The way the words poured out of her like poison.
I carry her into my bedroom and take a moment to strip out of my shirt that she’s soaked with her tears. Then I stretch out next to her, waiting until she instinctively finds her way to me and presses against my side.
I fucked up.
I knew shit was bad with Minos. He’s even worse at being a father than he is at being a person. He might not beat the shit out of his kids, but they both wear emotional scars with his name on them. It was my mistake for not realizing the depth of those wounds. If I had, maybe I would’ve anticipated Ariadne running to the Olympians instead of me when things got too scary. For better or worse, I’m attached to her father in her head.
Her brother didn’t help. Later, I might have more grace for him. Right now, all I know is that talking with him caused Ariadne enough distress to seek me out. As much as I love that she came to me, it hurts that she needed to in the first place.
“Only a little while longer, sweetheart.” I speak softly so I won’t wake her, the endearment slipping out as naturally as breathing. I can’t stop myself from stroking my hand down her spine and urging her a little bit closer. Someday, she’ll come to me simply because she wants to be in my presence, not because she’s fleeing worse nightmares.
I let her sleep as long as I can, but I wake her well before dawn. “It’s time to get going.” She mutters a protest and nuzzles my shoulder. Ariadne was never one to spring to wakefulness. I give her a light shake. “You’ve got to get back to your fiancé.”
That snaps her eyes open. I can practically see the moment she registers what happened—that she came to me, that she cried herself to sleep in my arms, and that she’s waking up in my bed. At least she doesn’t skitter away from me. She blinks slowly. “What time is it?”
“Four.”
“Damn. Okay. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She sits up and rubs her eyes, still puffy from crying. “I’m s—”
“Don’t you dare apologize. Not to me. Not for this.”
She pauses, her knuckles still pressed to her eye. “You say that, but you’re mad at me.”
I start to deny it, but she’s not wrong. “Yeah. I am. But not because you came to me, and not because you got an abortion.”
“Asterion. I wish you’d…” She takes a deep breath and shakes her head. “Never mind. I’ll have the blueprints to you by tomorrow night.”