Both gods looked at him, anger narrowing their eyes as they remembered Hermes taking her from under their noses. He hurried on.
“When I took her to see the city, I felt watched. It was different from the usual spies the gods sent. More patient. I thought it was surveillance from whoever wanted her dead. But it was them. The Kabeiroi. They’ve watched her since before the Fates gave her the prophecy.”
“Which means,” Thanatos said slowly, “the curse placed on her family long ago was only the beginning of whatever is coming.”
“And the Kabeiroi are waiting to see how everything plays out,” Anubis finished, crossing his arms across his chest.
“What prophecy did the Fates give her?” Hermes demanded. “What did she tell you?”
They looked at each other, expressions grim.
“She has not told us,” Thanatos explained. “We promised to give her time.”
Hermes stood up. “The Kabeiroi don’t show up for small things. If they’re here for her, the prophecy isn’t just about her curse. It’s about all of us. We need her to tell us what she knows.”
“No,” Anubis said firmly. “I gave her my word.”
Damn their rigid honor. Would she tell him? Hermes doubted it. Whatever the prophecy contained, it had shaken her. She was too honest to hide it without a reason.
“Let’s just hope she comes to her senses and shares it in time,” Hermes said quietly. “Because whatever’s coming won’t wait for her to be ready.”
Chapter fifty-one
ANUBIS
Anubis waited through Thanatos’ lesson and lunch before he could get Iliana alone again. For her training, partly. He loved teaching her. She was eager and attentive. With every stab, block, and maneuver, he gave her the means to survive.
But he would be lying to himself if he thought that was all it was.
He enjoyed being around her and the determined way she faced all the obstacles he set for her. How she laughed when she succeeded, unreserved and genuine. She made him want to be more than the god who’d given up on forming connections centuries ago.
Each day, he grew more comfortable sharing her with Thanatos. Their friendship went beyond their roles as death gods and past the occasional lovers they’d shared before. This was different. Stronger. All because of her.
Watching Iliana with Thanatos made him believe that relationships based on honesty and respect might be possible. That the broken and abandoned part of him might heal.
His focus snapped to her as soon as she walked into the room.
The introspection didn’t vanish so much as get shoved aside by something more immediate and visceral. He didn’t have time to question his reaction. He was too focused on her. Her long legs had grown stronger with every training session. The tight shorts and tank top were molded to curves he wanted to map with his hands. That ponytail was swaying like an invitation he was barely resisting.
He’d planned to be professional; to focus on her training and to keep himself in control. They had important work to do, and she needed to be prepared for what was coming.
Then she smiled at him—
He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He wrapped an arm around her waist and lifted her against him.
Iliana gasped, her arms flying around his neck, and their mouths crashed together with all the fire he’d been trying to ignore. She kissed him back with heat and hunger, matching him stroke for stroke until he finally pulled himself away.
“You are too damn distracting,” he muttered, their foreheads touching.
He should’ve moved away, put distance between them, and refocused on training. That should matter more than his need to touch her. The trust and desire in her eyes made him forget why he’d built his walls in the first place.
Iliana giggled, still breathing hard from the kiss. She planted her hands on her hips. “What are we learning today, Sensei?”
She was different now. More confident as she adapted to the curse and their world. She’d even begun to break through Hypnos’ defenses despite his best efforts to remain distant.
Despite that progress, though, the curse loomed, always present. Hypnos had said months, maybe only weeks. They were racing against time, and it felt as if they were losing. That’s why the training mattered—why every technique could be the difference between life and death.
Anubis turned away before she noticed how much her mere presence distracted him from the importance of everything else.
