“Sit. The soup will be ready soon.”
She wanted to demand answers, to know what they were talking about, but jumping straight to interrogation mode wasn’t the best approach. Instead, she crossed to the shelves, moving between Hypnos and Anubis. She grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the sink, downing it in one go. After refilling it, she finally took a seat.
“Where’s Hermes?” she asked. Maybe she could distract herself from whatever the two of them had been discussing.
“Out gathering information,” Anubis said, though something in his tone suggested he wasn’t entirely sure. “He said he would be back for dinner.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly. Rather than dwell on why she wanted the other god to be present, she reconsidered Hypnos’ words. She knew she should let it go, but her desperate need to know what she could face wouldn’t leave her alone.
She leveled a stare at Hypnos. “Why won’t Thanatos be happy?”
Hypnos smirked, but there was no humor in it, only knowing. Before he could let whatever sarcastic remark on his tongue slip free, the sound of approaching footsteps silenced the room.
Anubis stiffened. The smirk disappeared from Hypnos’ face. An instinctual feeling inside Iliana warned her.
The marks.
The conversation made sense now. Thanatos would see the marks on her neck from their make-out session and think…what? That she had betrayed him somehow?
She hadn’t. At least she hadn’t thought so. Now she was questioning everything she’d felt with Anubis, how the heat and desire had felt so right. What had seemed so perfect in the moment now made her doubt her own judgment.
Thanatos entered the room, and the atmosphere appeared to change. He sensed the tension immediately, his relaxed expression stiffening. His eyes flitted from the gods to Iliana, his gaze intent and assessing as it moved over her body as if taking stock, making sure she still had all her limbs and checking for wounds.
Then he saw them; the marks on her neck stood out against her pale skin. Then her arms, where finger-shaped bruises bloomed dark. His eyes cut to Anubis and she watched as concern morphed into something dangerous.His hands flexed at his sides before clenching into fists. His body grew taut, and his mouth flattened into a hard line.
Iliana hardly had time to process or intervene before Thanatosmoved—and struck.
The punch connected with Anubis’ jaw, the sickening crack booming in the room. She yelped, the sharp, involuntary sound tearing out of her, cutting into the tension.
Anubis’ head snapped to the side from the force, and for a second, he stayed there, breathing heavily. Then he straightened slowly, his gaze returning to Thanatos with his golden eyes hard. Waiting. As if he were inviting another strike.
Thanatos’ fist was pulled back to hit his friend again, but he froze. She saw the cold anger on his face crack as shame flooded in, replacing the rage and softening each hardened line.
Neither of them moved.
Iliana stood, the scrape of the chair legs squealing through the room. She looked between them as she gasped for breath, her heart beating hard against her sternum, her legs barely holding her weight.
The conflict warred across Thanatos’ features as Anubis remained perfectly still, waiting patiently, all emotions wiped from his face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” she yelled.
Thanatos slowly lowered his arm, but his body remained wound tight. He was still ready to lunge, to fight. When he looked at her again, she saw the flash of fear in his eyes before it disappeared behind an icy wall.
Fear. Not anger or rage.
“Iliana—” Thanatos began, brokenly.
“No!” She held up a hand, needing some kind of barrier between them. She didn’t know exactly what sparked it, but she understood enough.
And like hell would they fight over her.
She read their body language, seeing that they weren’t done. Their muscles remained strung tight, ready to tear at each other once more.
“Figure this out. Whatever this is about, whatever I did or didn’t do, figure it out without beating each other senseless.”
Hypnos had remained silent throughout the exchange, leaning against the cabinets with detached interest. He hadn’t bothered to break the two apart, even knowing his brother would react this way, as if he’d predicted this exact outcome and was waiting to see how accurate it was. Now he moved to her with an almost sympathetic expression, as if he understood what she was feeling. “Iliana…”
“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. She hated how vulnerable she sounded. So small, so human. “Just don’t.”
