She slowly exhaled, straightening and squaring her shoulders. Her heart continued to race from the way he looked at her before leaving.
He’d been distracted. Something clearly bothered him enough to scan the shadows and crowds all night. To move them through the cathedral as if he were staying one move ahead of something.
She’d spent the evening with a god known for trickery, for lies and manipulation. And somehow she still trusted him. Liked him.
Four gods.
When did she become this person?
She didn’t have an answer and didn’t have time to find one, because as she turned, she saw them. Thanatos. Anubis. Hypnos.
They stood near her bed like sentinels—silent and imposing—arms crossed, eyes dark.
Shit.
Chapter thirty-nine
THANATOS
Hermes disappeared before Thanatos could strangle him. He’d taken Iliana from the safe house without a word.
Fear of losing her stoked his rage. If Hermes thought this was a game, Thanatos would make it clear he wasn’t in the mood to play.
He kept his eyes on Iliana. Breathing. Counting the moments until his pulse slowed.
“Are you all right, Iliana?” Anubis asked, betraying no hint of the storm under the surface. He’d spent years struggling with his emotions, far more than Thanatos ever had.
She smiled at him. “I’m fine. Just…tired.” Her eyes moved to Hypnos before settling back on Anubis.
The message was obvious: she didn’t want to sleep.
Thanatos tensed as Hypnos hissed out a breath, turned, and stormed from the room. Thanatos didn’t stop him. Hypnos’ guilt wasn’t just about Hermes taking her. His brother had put her to sleep without consent. For her, sleep was now a death sentence, not peace.
He turned back toward Iliana.
Anubis was cradling her face as if she might break, and she covered his hand with her own. “I’m fine.”
Thanatos waited for the possessiveness—expected the ugly, territorial kind.
It didn’t come.
What hit instead was more complicated. Watching Anubis cradle her with reverence, he understood. Accepted it. He couldn’t blame Anubis for falling for her. His own feelings for Iliana ran more intensely than any past relationship, beyond what he’d expected from this arrangement.
Anubis was falling for her, too.
He let his gaze sweep over her. She was tired, yes, but calm. Her shoulders were relaxed, her forehead no longer creased with stress. Thanatos hadn’t realized just how close to the edge she’d been before Hermes whisked her away.
The knowledge cooled his anger. She’d needed an escape. Hermes had recognized it and taken her away. Thanatos had caused her distress. Anubis comforted her when she returned. Shame began to replace his earlier fury toward the messenger god.
Iliana pulled away from Anubis and looked over at Thanatos. “I’m going to take a shower. Then sleep. Can we talk about this in the morning?”
Neither god answered fast enough. She huffed, turned, and disappeared into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.
Thanatos dragged a hand down his face. “Shit.”
Anubis’ glare was hard. “You need to fix this.”
“I know.”
