A glint of satisfaction crossed his face, and he stepped aside. “We need to put ice on your bruises after you shower.”
She nodded and brushed past him.
“After dinner, we will talk about what happened here.”
Iliana looked back at him. “And what happened here?”
Anubis chuckled. “Forgotten already? Do you need me to remind you?”
Her face heated. She spun around and fled, sensing his grin following her the whole way. She kept walking, not daring to look back. Not wanting him to see the smile curling her lips in response or the way she touched her mouth, tracing where he’d kissed her, still tasting him.
Chapter thirty-six
ILIANA
The shower did nothing to calm her or the lingering heat in her body.
She’d thought about finishing what he started, but a new fear made its way in. What if they could hear her? She didn’t know how extensive their powers were. Superhearing. Telepathy. Some divine sixth sense of human arousal? The last thing she wanted was to face their knowing grins over dinner.
When had she started caring what the gods thought of her? When had their opinions become more important than her own carefully maintained distance?
With a sigh, she wrapped herself in a towel and studied herself. Faint bruises had already formed, but it wasn’t too bad. Just the dark imprint of fingers on her arm where Anubis had caught her when she’d been about to fall during training. The lingering heat of his grip on her hips. The love bites along her neck.
She shivered. She should be afraid, or at the very least, wary of his strength—of how effortlessly he could overpower her.
But she wasn’t. Even in the heat of the moment, when his control had slipped for a fraction of a second, he’d stopped. He’d pulled back, concern eclipsing his desire in an instant.And that reaction? It mattered.
She trusted him.
She brushed out her hair, then dressed in soft leggings and a fitted tank top. Her muscles protested every movement, but the aromas coming from the kitchen were too inviting to ignore. Stretching could wait.
She rested her hand on the door handle, trying to gather herself.Out there were three, maybe four gods who’d become impossibly interwoven into her life. In here, she could pretend things were simple. Still human. That she hadn’t just made out with Anubis while Thanatos’ kiss from this morning still lingered. That she wasn’t about to sit down to dinner with all of them and pretend everything was normal.
Shaking off the doubts, she opened the door. By the time she got close to the kitchen, she caught fragments of a low conversation, too hushed to make out. They were speaking carefully. If they hadn’t wanted her to hear, they would’ve spoken telepathically. At least, she assumed they did that, having noticed their wordless conversations while in their presence. She was still unsure of how that worked.
Deciding she couldn’t hide in the hallway forever, she strode into the room.
Anubis stirred a pot at the stove as Hypnos rested against the counter, his demeanor unreadable as always. The moment he spotted her, he tensed.
“Thanatos won’t be happy,”Hypnos said.
Iliana halted in the doorway as Hypnos dragged his gaze over her. Calculating. Assessing. His eyes lingered on her neck.
She resisted the urge to touch the marks she knew were there.
“You know how he is, Ani.” Hypnos sounded bored, but there was a sharp warning beneath it. “You should’ve been more careful.”
Anubis’ nostrils flared, the only sign of strain in his otherwise tranquil demeanor. “It is fine.” He sounded unconcerned, but the tight set of his shoulders showed he wasn’t as confident in his words as he pretended. “He will understand.”
“Will he?” Hypnos asked.
Iliana’s insides flipped, her appetite leaving her. He spoke so casually, as if he were discussing the weather rather than warning them about an unknown disaster.
Unknown to her.
She’d only seen Thanatos be gentle and patient with her. Despite all the uncertainty in her life, she knew she didn’t want to see him angry. Any of them, actually.
Anubis looked at her then, his eyes tender despite the conversation. She wondered if she’d imagined the quick flash of guilt in them.
