Page 89 of The Gods Forbid

That tone was so far from the one I’d heard Sebastian use when he talked about his overthrow attempt. Now, it was confident, if not a little lazy, like it was nothing but a passing thought to lead the only coup against Jupiter or Zeus in history.

But the voice he used in this memory was … broken. Resigned. Pained.

His father had a momentary expression of relief, before it was squashed under cruel confidence. “Just try not to fuck this up,” he shot at his only son, before turning away with his wife and leaving us alone.

I wondered what he’d done in the original memory. I could practically see him running his hands down his face in frustration. Any further thought was cut off when he turned around.

That wild look was back, his eyes bouncing over every inch of my face like they didn’t know which part to focus on the most. He settled on my eyes, holding them in a grip so intense I barely felt his hands rise to my face, tilting it up to him.

He opened his mouth, surely to chastise me for intruding, but at that very moment we were pulled out of the dream, coming back to reality within the four walls of his bedroom.

I was folded over his bare chest, my cheek cemented to the burning skin of his shoulder. I scrambled up, trying to put some much needed distance between us, but Sebastian moved faster.

In a move I couldn’t dedicate any thought to figuring out how he learned, Sebastian flipped me onto my back, hovering over me. “Oh, no you don’t, love,” he said as he did it, his body eclipsing the dim moon outside.

I could take the advantage back in a second, but I did nothing. Just let Sebastian cage me in with his shoulders and the scent of his cologne. “I didn’t mean to intrude,” I half-whispered. Sebastian’s stare only grew more intense, which had its normal effect of causing me to start saying everything that came across my mind. “I was trying to help and I touched you and you just pulled me in.” I took in a deep, shuddering breath. He really hogged all the air when he was this close to me. “All that horrible stuff your parents said…” I trailed off when pain lanced across his face. His reaction was delayed, not quite able to slam a emotionless mask down on time. “It’s not true. Penelope didn’t—”

Sebastian’s hand cut me off. Not by placing it over my mouth. No, the simple scrape of his hand over my shoulder was enough to completely remove the sounds coming from my throat. He had moved his hand next to my head, giving him the leverage to lean even closer.

This was so beyond wrong. I should set a million boundaries right now. Unfortunately, my body was in control right now and it seemed I was content to snap up all the little pieces of him I could get.

He was the one on top of me. He could move if he wanted. At least that was the logic I was going with.

Sebastian’s gaze swept down my body, before speaking so low I could barely hear him. “Let’s go back to that image you were painting before. Touching. Drawing you in.”

Hope burst through my chest, so powerful I was sure it could have flattened an entire forest.

Until I saw his grin.

Oh.

He was joking.

“I’d rather not,” I murmured, trying to wiggle out from under him. The second my hips shifted, Sebastian rolled off and away from me like my touch had burned him.

He rotated his legs to the floor, collapsing his large frame to rest his forearms on his legs.

All my resolve to leave and deal with my embarrassment on my own went flying out the window. There was something so … horrible about seeing his broad shoulders fold in on themselves like this. Seeing his back curve and bow under the strain of his own anguish.

What was a little more embarrassment? I could just group it into one, continuous lapse in sanity. Maybe he’d believe I was drunk.

I crawled over to him on my knees, settling back on my haunches. Before I could think better of it, I ran my hands over his shoulders and his biceps.

His skin was still sweltering.

Heat didn’t affect me. Sure, my version of it was more cold—sharp snaps of electricity rather than the gentle warmth of the sun. But it was still heat.

Heat that made me feel all sorts of dangerous things. I told myself it was okay to touch him like this. It was meant to be comforting, something friends did. It didn’t have to mean anything.

“I’m sorry I intruded,” I said, the words landing on the top of his spine.

One of his hands lifted to secure mine to his arm. “Their hate shouldn’t be anywhere near you.”

“It shouldn’t have been near you, either,” I snapped back, my tone surprisingly harsh.

Sebastian looked back at me, one brow raised. “That was but a small glimpse, love. It barely affected me at the end.”

Well, that shot my anger off like a rocket. “No one gets used to that, Sebastian.”