Page 21 of The Gods Forbid

I should have known he’d ask. Any other person might have been able to deflect, but I was always a horrible liar. “He’s … um …”

That was all it took for Emre to know what I’d done. He sighed deeply, running his hands over his face. “You do realize I’m going to have to tell Adrian about this, right?”

I looked to the ceiling, hoping that would have answers. Of course, it left me floundering. “Can you at least wait until tonight? I have some work I’d like to do before he yells at me.”

Emre gave me a small nod, just one dip of his chin. “Pretty sure he and Reyna are seeing your parents tonight. He’ll be in a good mood.”

“Tell him before.” I knew my brother. He’d be angrier if I ruined a good mood. If he had something pressing, he could only yell at me for so long. And he’d get over it quicker if he had dinner with his wife to look forward to.

“Good luck,” Emre said, using those as his parting words before disappearing through a portal and leaving me to my day.

➸

I managed to make it through work unscathed. I was grateful for a day stuffed full of paperwork, anything from setting up stipends for those about to leave Prometheus to sending out inquiries for job openings to hiring a new doctor to help with the influx of residents over recent weeks.

I didn’t have to do my least favorite part of my job—that was a blessing. As much as I loved seeing people grow and change and could handle seeing people in the thick of their suffering, I had a hard time with the residents in the old cells.

Those who clung so tightly to their thirst for violence they were unable to be helped. We tried, but there were some who just couldn’t be saved. The last person who had really shook me had recently died.

He had spent his life killing and maiming young women and showed not an ounce of remorse. I shook off the memory, feeling all the more grateful for the mundane paperwork.

Especially when I was standing on my front porch, trying to gather a breath before I stepped inside and confronted Sebastian. It took two until I placed my hand on my door knob and pushed, revealing Sebastian standing at the stove, shirt pulled taut across his muscled back.

And there was that fear again.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to give him free reign of the knives. But then again, I didn’t think he had a penchant for violence. Just attempts to overthrow people.

“Good evening,” I said, trying to get his attention.

Sebastian turned, lazily leaning against the counter and cocking his head as his eyes made two swift passes over my form. Warmth spread over my body and I prayed it didn’t appear on my cheeks.

Who blushed in front of someone they were scared of? Crazy people, that’s who.

When Sebastian failed to respond, I proceeded as I normally did when he chose that path. “I see. It’s a no talking day. Alright.” I couldn’t see what he was doing over his massive shoulders, which was quite new and not at all a bad thing. “I had a good day—not too much work and Niky stopped by for afternoon tea, which was nice.” Something in that sentence caught his attention. I really ought to correct him that Niky wasn’t my boyfriend, but I was trying to remind myself that I didn’t owe him any information about me. It just happened to slip out while I was talking to fill the silence. “Did you make dinner?”

Sebastian’s grunt was my only answer. It did smell amazing.

I waited for him to supply more information, which was a losing game. Before I could remind myself that I shouldn’t get drawn into him, that I should be holding strong to my conviction to remain steady, I was walking towards him.

“What did you make?” I asked, intentionally getting in his space and leaning one hip on the counter next to him.

Sebastian didn’t even look at me, stirring the spoon in the pot pointedly. “Soup.”

Well yes, that was very obvious. “What kind of soup?”

A full three seconds went by before he answered, “Tuscan soup.”

“There are lots of different kinds,” I said, leaning into the banter even though I knew it was a bad idea. I understood those who chased adrenaline more now. It was hard to resist once you knew the rush you got from pushing through fear. “What type?”

“It has beans in it.” Sebastian stopped stirring, bringing a bit of soup up to his lips to taste it. He hummed lightly in the back of his throat, clearly impressed with his own cooking, and the sound sent a small spike of anger—or something close to it—shoot up my spine.

“Impressed with yourself, are you?”

Sebastian turned to me then, just as my mouth was dropping open to apologize. I wasn’t snippy. He was supposed to be matching my demeanor. I wasn’t supposed to be stooping down to his level.

He set the spoon down, turning to fully face me. He was much more imposing facing me full on. And combined with his confident stance, clearly bolstered by the fact I was sparring with him, that familiar trickle of fear was building in my stomach. “Seeing as you left me alone with no instructions as to what I was supposed to do with my newfound freedom, I took it upon myself to head to the main square and buy a few ingredients. You have a market there, in case you needed the reminder.”

“I assume that’s the first time you’ve done so? How human you must feel.” What was wrong with me? I never spoke without thinking, but had done so twice in as many minutes.