I’m inclined to trust him. And somehow, I already do.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, desperation tightening his features.
“Wait,” I say suddenly, breathlessly, panic shifting swiftly into something softer. “Just…please don’t disappear.”
He stills at my plea. I lift a trembling hand, fingertips brushing his cheek. He flinches, but his shoulders relax incrementally beneath my touch, and the warmth of him grounds me.
“Levi…” Hayden’s voice cracks.
“Just don’t go,” I whisper again, quieter now, more certain. “Stay. With me.”
“I don’t know how to do this,” he finishes, almost breaking. His hands flex uselessly, as if he’s deciding between reaching for me or retreating.
“Me neither,” I whisper back. “But I’m very good at learning things I care about.”
His eyes finally lift to mine and he’s undone. He folds me in like he’s bracing a fracture and I’m the splint. His breath on my neck is the warmest thing in the room. His shadows still, as if they too know this moment matters. They move like they adore him. Protective and patient as they’ve been keeping watch all along. Figures. Even they can’t stand to be away from him.
His throat works as he swallows. “I’ve always had…rules. Distance was safer. Necessary. Don’t get too close. Don’t let mortals see too much.” Hayden’s tension bleeds out. I feel his chest expand, then collapse in relief, in surrender, as his arms tighten, and all I can do is hold him. His face buries into the crook of myneck, breath warm and ragged against my skin. It’s the most human, the most achingly vulnerable I’ve ever known him to be.
I brush a hand through his soft hair, whispering, “You don’t have to hide with me.”
He stills at that, just for a second, like the words land somewhere deep.
When he finally draws back, his eyes are glassy. Storm clouds after rain, fragile and hopeful.
“I didn’t want you to see me this way,” he admits. His gaze drops, shoulders going rigid, like holding himself together is the only thing he knows how to do. The shadows coil tighter, then falter at his feet, restless. “I kept things shallow. Polite.” His mouth twists, almost bitter. “It was easier. If no one looked too closely, they wouldn’t notice what I was…or what I wasn’t.”
He exhales, a sound closer to defeat than relief. “But the distance…it hollows you out.”
I touch his jaw gently, thumb brushing the rough edge of stubble. His shadows flicker at the touch, uncertain, but I don’t flinch. “You talk about yourself like you’re missing pieces,” I murmur. “But all I see is someone who’s been carrying too much for too long.”
His breath hitches, eyes closing for a heartbeat, like he’s trying to memorize the words. When they open again, hope flickers there. Fragile, but real.
“Stay,” he says, like he’s never said it first.
“I’m here,” I answer, steady and certain. “Ask around. Half the town can confirm how stubborn I am.”
His jaw tenses like he’s fighting the urge to believe me, like hope is something he’s not accustomed to entertaining. It isn’t just doubt, I think, but fear. Fear of what being seen might cost him. I can’t change the past, or whatever made him this way. But I can stay.
Because if loneliness made him this careful, maybe company can make him brave.
His eyes drop. First to my mouth, then to the space between us, where our hands still brush. Something heavy coils low in my stomach, and for a second, I think he might kiss me.
But he doesn’t.
The restraint shouldn’t wreck me, but it does. Want is loud, but respect is louder…which only makes it worse as his eyes search mine, lips parted, shadows finally quiet around us. Could he hurt me? I have no idea. But Hayden is asking to be known, and I, the fool that I am, want to know him completely. He leans ever so slightly into my touch, his head bowing forward like the weight of this truth has finally defeated him. His shadows ease, curling at our feet like spent smoke as the room exhales with us. And in that heartbeat, kneeling together in the entryway, I realize something with startling clarity.
This man,this god, let himself soften with me. And despite every impossible detail, every overwhelming secret, I want nothing more than to protect that softness.
11
Hayden
“So…where’s thethrone?”
That’s the first thing Levi says after settling in with fresh drinks, bourbon for me, another glass of wine for him. I blink at him questioningly. “A throne?”
“Yeah,” he says, tucked into the corner of my couch, legs folded, cradling his glass with both hands. “Hades…I mean,you…had a throne, right? Big, ominous, probably made of bone or, like…cursed obsidian or something?”
