A dagger appeared in his hand. It was inside a dark leather sheath decorated with engraved symbols that she didn’t recognize. “Take this.”
The pommel was cool as he pressed it in her hand. “What is this for if I’m so ‘safe’?”
“Peace of mind. Mine, not yours.”
The admission surprised her.
He looked uncharacteristically uncertain. “Look, you should be safe here. I believe that. But I’ve been wrong before, and I…” He shook his head. “I can’t protect you and help them. So—take it. It’s my favorite. Don’t lose it.”
She tied the sheath to her hip with unsteady hands, letting the hem of her loose top cover it. The action felt empty, though. Being armed wasn’t enough.
“Take me with you.” She wasn’t begging. She wasn’t. “I can help.”
Hermes didn’t answer right away. Instead, he cradled her face, startling her with his tender touch.
She lost all thoughts as she stared into his gorgeous blue eyes.
“You’re human,” he said. “There’s little you can do for him.”
Iliana flinched at the stinging words.
“Just stay safe, beautiful.” Hermes pressed a kiss on her forehead, lingering as if he wanted to say more.
But then he left, leaving her alone in the Underworld.
She stood staring at the space where Hermes had been.
You’re human.
The words mixed with the image she couldn’t shake.
Hypnos flew to her, his one good eye wide as he flew to her side. The worm lunged toward him before he even reached her. His hand was outstretched, touching her shoulder, waking her up before—
Her breath came in quick gasps as panic squeezed her lungs. Hypnos had saved her, throwing himself between her and the monster. He woke her from the curse even though it meant the worm would attack him again.
And she’d just stood there. Useless.
Human.
The feel of Hermes’ warm lips hadn’t faded from her skin before fury surged in its place.
You’re human.
Her hands fisted, nails biting into skin. She wasn’t weak. She refused to sit in Hypnos’ home while the gods risked their lives for her.
The door—the one he’d kept out of reach.
It felt like a dare.
Before she could talk herself out of it or let panic paralyze her again, her feet were moving.
Leaving was stupid. She knew it was stupid. She was one mortal woman with a borrowed dagger against whatever waited for her outside of this sanctuary. Against whatever had sent those worms after her.
Hypnos was out there. Hurt. Possibly dying. All because he’d saved her.
And she’d be damned if she did nothing.
Hermes’ dagger on her hip was a small reassurance that spurred her on. She grabbed the door handle and turned it.
