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Chapter Three
Ambrose
As I stood along the wall, I kept my eyes peeled for any signs as to the cause of my restlessness. With each passing moment, my senses sharpened until the aromas of everyone’s perfume mixed and turned putrid in my nose, and my gut instincts grew keener until my stomach was weighed down with something I didn’t comprehend. The urgency swelled within me until I couldn’t stand still any longer.
My feet were in motion before I knew where I was going. They led me across the floor as I scanned the crowd. A hundred faces blurred past my vision as I searched them, finding nothing but frustration.
And then it happened. My sight fell onto someone so beautiful that my steps faltered and my breath hitched. Blood surged to my groin so quickly that I grew dizzy. I took a moment to steady myself and thoroughly enjoy the view.
The young man was tall, though not quite my height, and slim. His hair was light and shaggy, and his crystal eyes pierced through his mask. While I longed to see all of him, part of me was grateful for the cover; all of his beauty at once may have been too much to handle.
My attention laser focused on the man. No one else in the room mattered. Nothing mattered except getting closer to him. My body's reaction to the man and the pull he had over me left no doubt in my mind; this man was my fated mate.
Needing to get to him before anyone else could, I pushed through my delighted shock, forcing one foot in front of the other until my body caught up to my mind and I picked up speed. I practically floated across the floor as I was drawn close to him.
Our eyes met and my soul rejoiced. I wanted to drop to my knees and thank the gods for such a gracious gift, but even more, I wanted to speak with him, touch him, and claim him as my own.
It seemed like forever and yet only a moment until I reached him. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with his sweet cinnamon scent. It dominated my senses and chased away all other aromas.
I gazed at him while a hundred questions burned and battled on my tongue. More than anything, I wanted to feel him in my arms and my desire came out in the question, "Dance with me?"
He quickly answered with a nod and I wasted no time in holding out my hand. When he placed his palm on mine, I let out a quiet moan as my cock grew so hard it damn near ripped a hole in my pants. Even an innocent touch from my mate set my blood on fire, but I managed to lead him to the center of the dance floor without ripping off his pants and ravaging him.
Did I know what I was doing? No. We didn’t exactly throw balls in Hell; it seemed wildly inappropriate, but I was a fast learner. I took a quick peek at the couples around us and copied their actions, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him close to me while locking onto his gaze. After a moment’s hesitation, he snaked his arms around my neck and we swayed back and forth to the slow music.
“What is your name?” I asked, unable to wait another moment to know the name I’d call out in the night, and who owned my heart.
“Marcus,” he answered in a quiet, tenor voice that was like music to my ears.
“I’m Ambrose.”
“That’s a beautiful name,” he told me with a shy smile. “I’ve never heard it before.”
“It’s quite common where I’m from. It means immortal.” I had at least a dozen half-brothers named Ambrose. For one, my father Hades had so many children that he ran out of name creativity, but also, he thought himself quite the jokester and the literal meaning of the name made him chuckle.
“It’s a great name, but I wouldn’t want to be immortal,” Marcus shrugged.
Well that certainly puts a hitch in my plans. “Why not?” Whatever his reasons, I would do anything in my power to change his mind.
“It would be too hard; you would have to see all of your friends and family die around you.”
Oh good, an easy fix. “What if you could be immortal with all of your loved ones? You’d never have to say goodbye to anyone.”
“That sounds like living a fairytale.”
“I believe I’m already living in one,” I replied, pulling him closer to me. “I’ve found my prince charming.” It was a cheesy line, but it brought a smile and a slight blush to his face.
Marcus cleared his throat and asked, “So…what do you do?”
I wasn’t sure if he was just shy or if he was purposefully steering clear of my flirtation. I got the sense that he had been hurt, and was protecting himself. Either way, I doubted the way to knock down his walls was to drop the ‘I’m a demigod from Hell’ bomb in his lap, so I went with a different option.
“I’m a prison guard.” It was true enough; I guarded wicked souls in their eternal prison.
“That sounds so scary and dangerous.”
“It can be,” I shrugged. “But it’s what I was born for.”
“That’s amazing,” Marcus sighed. “I wish I had that kind of purpose in my life.”
