She barely had time to breathe. Hands turned her to face her rescuer.
Even at five feet ten, she’d need to crane her neck to look up at him. Instead, she stared at the black shirt stretched over his chest. Her body simply wouldn’t obey.
She wanted to laugh when her rescuer snapped at her. Really? The hallucination that saved her life was scolding her for it. She tried to respond, but nothing happened. Her lips were still, limbs at her side. Panic rushed through her while she fought the paralysis.
What kind of hellish nightmare was this?
His gentle grip angled her chin up, letting her see his entire face. The sight of him stole what little air she had left. He was the kind of beautiful that didn’t exist. Angular features and striking golden-brown eyes under a creased brow, blond hair brushing his broad shoulders. He belonged in fantasy, not on a rooftop in Tucson.
His eyes narrowed in concern, as if he cared about whatever was wrong with her. How could he understand what was happening to her when she didn’t?
Before she could process anything else, he lifted her into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Warmth rippled across her skin. The panic remained, but underneath it was unexpected relief.
Someone else was in control when she couldn’t be. Someone who didn’t want her to jump off a roof.
Massive white wings unfurled behind him.
She didn’t have time to question it. He crouched and jumped.
A scream lodged in her throat, trapped like everything else.
They were flying.
Once his grip proved steady, even as the wind pulled at them, her terror slowly ebbed. If it were a dream, she might as well enjoy it.
Wind moved against her bare legs. The pressure of powerful arms wrapped firmly around her promised safety. Above them, the night sky was dark and endless. For the first time in weeks—maybe even years—she felt light. She felt free. Suspended above the city she called home, she could finally breathe.
The steady rush of wind, the rhythmic beat of wings, and the sound of his heartbeat in her ear lulled her senses, her eyes becoming heavy before finally closing.
Maybe she didn’t want to wake up from this dream after all.
Chapter four
THANATOS
The human lay still in his arms, asleep. Thanatos sighed in relief.
The blank look in her eyes disturbed him. He imagined them expressive—hazel shifting between gold and green. He should’ve felt nothing carrying her through the night, just as duty demanded. Yet, dread crept in.
What if he failed?
It wasn’t just Hypnos’ fate at stake. If he lost her, the wrath of the gods could topple the balance he’d spent an eternity maintaining. Those deep shadows under her eyes bothered him more than it should.
He’d accepted this mission because Athena held his brother’s future in her hands. She knew about Hypnos’ role in the Trojan War; the second time he’d put Zeus to sleep for Hera.Zeus still believed Hypnos wasn’t involved. If the truth came out….
Thanatos couldn’t let that happen.
With the human unconscious, it was the best time to take her to the entrance of the Underworld. Somewhere secure. He’d seek Hades’ permission for her to stay in Hypnos’ cave. If the ruler discovered he’d brought a living mortal into the Underworld without permission, he might use Thanatos as an example. Or worse, refuse to let the human leave.
One god threatening him and his brother was enough.
He focused on the Gates of Horn and Ivory, the nearest Underworld entrance. He crossed the distance a moment later. The usual chill wrapped around him as his cells dissipated, then reformed outside the gates.
The human was still asleep. Mortals were usually disoriented after traveling this way, gripped by vertigo as the world vanished from under their feet. She barely stirred. He wondered if it was the effect of the curse, or if the girl herself was stronger than he’d thought.
Standing there for a moment, he debated calling out to Hypnos. His twin hadn’t left his cave in centuries. Not since Pasithea. He wouldn’t meet him here, no matter what he asked.
Thanatos gritted his teeth.
