Page 152 of Hades

“She doesn’t like that I let you touch me.” I closed my eyes and let myself sink into his warmth. “She doesn’t like that you steady me when she used to be the only one who could unsettle me.”

“Good.”

I almost smiled. Almost.

But the dread was still there. Building. Pressing against my ribs like something alive.

“Brock?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Something’s going to happen tomorrow.”

His arms tightened around me. “I know.”

“I don’t know what. I don’t know why. But I can feel it.”

“I know,” he said again. “And I’ll be right there with you when it does.”

I turned in his arms, looked up at him, and saw the certainty in his eyes. The promise.

“What if it’s bad?”

“Then we handle it.” He cupped my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. “Together.”

I wanted to believe him. Wanted to trust that whatever was coming could be faced and survived.

But my body knew better.

My instincts screamed that Harvest Week wasn’t just a festival. It was a door. And once it opened, there would be no closing it again.

I kissed him, hard and desperate, trying to anchor myself to something solid before the ground gave way beneath me.

He kissed me back, slow and deep, his hands in my hair, his body pressed against mine.

When we finally pulled apart, I was breathing hard, my heart pounding.

“I need to finish packing,” I whispered.

“I’ll help.”

We worked side by side, his presence a steady weight beside me. Grounding me. Keeping me tethered to the present instead of spiraling into the fear of what tomorrow might bring.

But even with him there, even with his hands on me and his voice in my ear, I couldn’t shake the feeling.

Something was waiting.

Something my mother knew about.

Something tied to Harvest Week and the pattern I’d been too blind to see.

And tomorrow, when the festival began and the crowds gathered and my mother smiled that knowing smile that made my skin crawl, the door would open.

And I had no idea what would come through.

CHAPTER FORTY

Hades