Thanatos studied her face, then flicked his gaze to her bare arms, exposed to the chill, and down to her uncovered feet, numb against the packed earth. “You need a coat and boots.”
Before she could protest, a warm jacket materialized in his hands. Iliana stared at it. “What…?” She shook her head.
Magic. It should’ve shocked her more, but it was starting to feel routine.She took the coat and slipped it on, sighing in relief.
When Thanatos handed her socks and boots, she asked, “How did you know my size?”
Instead of answering, he took her hand and led her back to the porch steps. “Sit and put them on. Then we can go for a walk. Or a flight.”
“Flying?”
Thanatos rested against the railing, watching her. “If that is what you want,” he offered. “You missed the first one, so I thought you might like another chance.”
A flush warmed her face while she tied the boots. She remembered that flight. The sensation of air rushing over her skin. The way the wind had whipped through Thanatos’ hair….
She shook the image away, torn between attraction and the need for composure.
Focus, damn it.
The curse left her helpless. If these gods were all that stood between her and dying, she needed to work with them.
“All right. How do we do this?”
He walked over and looked down at her. His golden hair fell to his shoulders, and the moonlight softened his angular features. His scent—sweet and earthy—calmed her racing heart.
“There are a couple of ways,” he said evenly, but there was a light teasing in his tone. “I can carry you like I did that night. Or you can wrap your legs around my waist.”
She shivered as her brain supplied an image she didn’t need—his hands at her waist, her legs locked around him.
Nope, nope, nope.
“If you’re okay with it, I’d rather you just carry me.”
Thanatos smiled, just a tiny curve of his lips. “As you wish.” Then, he effortlessly scooped her into his arms.
She knew he wouldn’t drop her; knew he was strong enough. Still, she wrapped her arms around his neck and unintentionally brought their faces closer.
“This’ll work,” she mumbled, mostly to herself.
He nodded before massive white wings burst from his back, spanning wider than she’d imagined. She gasped, barely resisting the urge to touch the soft feathers.
“Hold tight,” he said before the ground fell away.
Her stomach flipped. She shrieked, burying her face against his neck as wind rushed around them. Panic spiked—pure, instinctive.
Don’t fight.
She forced her hands to unclench, her breathing to slow. He tightened his grip in wordless reassurance, and slowly the terror morphed into wonder—into the first tentative thread of trust.
Thanatos’ chest shook with a laugh, and her eyes popped open, half-glaring, half-curious despite herself. “Not funny. You’re used to being this high, flying like a bird.”
“Do you want to go back down?”
She moved her eyes away from his challenging expression. What she saw left her speechless.
Above them, stars shone brilliantly. Moonlight drenched the scene before her in silver. Below, the snow glinted like crushed glass in the trees’ shadows. At this altitude, the crisp, impossibly clean air rejuvenated her.
She gave Thanatos a challenging smile. “What are you waiting for? Show me what it’s like to have wings.”
