Page 36 of Kneel Before Me

“You will,” said Daphne.

“In that case, have a good night. And don’t be so hard on yourself, all right, Daph?”

Daphne sighed. It was easy for Ella—someone who was the human embodiment of optimism—to say something like that. But for Daphne, someone who was prone to melancholy and nihilism, there was no more difficult task.

“I’ll try,” she said.

Ella swept forward, kissing her on the cheek. “That’s all I ask.”

Then she was gone.

Daphne had two more beers at the Horseman before finally heading home. By the time she reached her cottage, she was swaying harder than wheat in a field. When she stood before her bed at last, the room was spinning so much she almost didn’t see the bouquet of flowers propped between her pillows. It was only when she nearly face-planted into it that she realized it was there, and only once she’d detangled herself from the stems that she realized it was accompanied by a bottle of dark red wine and a handwritten note. Daphne squinted at it to decipher the spiky script.

Daphne,

To an opportune partnership.

—Max

Shock passed through her, followed immediately by tentative curiosity. Why would he send her flowers and wine? Daphne couldn’t fathom how he knew where she lived, much less had gotten them here so quickly, although she supposed he had any number of errand boys available to do his bidding. She stared at the bottle of wine. It had the same label as the one they’d drank in Lilly’s nursery—the one he’d said was expensive. It was an outrageously generous thing to give someone he barely knew. Then again, such a gift was worth much less to Maximus than it was to Daphne. He could give away dozens of bottles of wine if he so chose. Such was his privilege.

Daphne considered the man she’d met tonight: arrogant, angry, heartbroken. Her own circumstances were not much better. She had to go through the elimination process and keep her promise to Kronos. If you will not fuck him, you must find another way to win. She was a woman of her word. It was why she’d said yes to Maximus, even if it had scared her more than anything else she’d ever done.

But what if these flowers and wine weren’t a gift at all? Perhaps they were a promise—an anchor linking them together. Daphne had to admit that she’d been incredulous of his intentions, regardless of how sincere he’d seemed in the moment. But this solidified them for her. They were really doing this.

Unable to keep her eyes open any longer, Daphne passed out with the note in her hand, the wine cradled against her chest. Tomorrow she would face the Showing.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Caspen

Caspen awoke to the sounds of sex.

He knew immediately whose moans he was hearing; he would recognize them in his sleep. He opened his eyes to see Harmony riding his brother in a chair by the fire. It was not the first time Caspen had awoken to Harmony in his chambers. But it was the first time he had awoken to find her on a cock that was not his.

Caspen sat up slowly, watching them with unblinking eyes, possession and fierce jealousy ripping through his chest. The smirk on Apollo’s face was enough to make him murderous. But the look on Harmony’s was even worse. She was enjoying herself. Not just from the sex—which was clearly pleasurable for her—but from Caspen’s exclusion. He forced himself into both of their minds:

Are you two lost?

Harmony was the one to reply: I wanted to have sex in a chair.

Surely there is a chair in your chambers.

Not like this one.

Apollo was the ever-gleeful onlooker.

Do you not find your actions rude? Caspen continued.

What about this is rude?

You are in my chambers, yet you are fucking someone who is not me.

Harmony pouted, looking over her shoulder at him. Caspen could hear how wet she was—her pussy slid up and down his brother’s cock in languid, lazy thrusts. He wanted to tear her off him.

It is rude to be a bad host, Caspenon. You should sit back and enjoy the show.

This was not a show he could enjoy. Anything that made Apollo this happy should be outlawed.