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My eyes narrow to slits, squinting in an attempt to make out the figure. My mouth dries, and my breath stutters in my chest. The voice is so familiar. I swear I’ve heard it before ...
“Phil?” I question, squeezing through the tight crevice between Maximus’ hulking form and Kyros’s slimmer muscles. I hear a growling sound behind me, and I leap forward, feeling a puff of air at my back and the brush of his fingertips as he narrowly misses me. Finally allowing me to come face to face with the newcomer.
Phil stands poised in the doorway, one hand still clasping the brass doorknob. I blink in surprise. The balding fifty-something-year-old man that I once knew has completely transformed. Like my father, his laugh lines and crow’s feet have vanished entirely. Leaving him looking just as young as the rest of the guys. His ruddy brown hair now covers his entire head, the sight jarring compared to when I saw him last. The brief moment I had glimpsed him through the opening change room door at the beach bar, only for my body to disappear a moment later, the darkness replacing his shocked expression.
“Miss Rothchild,” Phil breathes on a relieved sigh. “I mean, I guess I can call you Olivia now that I’m no longer pretending to be Oliver’s employee.” He looks around nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
“She already knows. You can call me Osias.” My father huffs out on an annoyed breath. He shoves past an unmoving Mateo because, of course, he does. The two apparently seize any opportunity to antagonize the other. He moves to us before clapping Phil on the shoulder in greeting.
“Hmm, let me guess, Phil isn’t your real name?” I ask suspiciously, giving my father a pointed look before focusing back on maybe Phil.
“It is actually.” He straightens, stepping forward to close the door behind him. A broad smile brightening his face when he turns. “I’m Phillip, God of Weaponry,” he announces proudly.
“It’s so good to see you safe, Olivia,” he admits, the words sounding so earnest I can’t help but smile back.
I move forward, wrapping my arms around the man that helped raise me almost as much as my father had. He pulls me in, relaxing into the embrace—that is until four sounds of protest come from behind us. I feel Phil stiffen a moment before I’m ripped away. Maximus’ large palm wraps around my middle. Drawing me back against his hard chest.
Mateo steps between us, pulling himself up to his full height and puffing out his chest. He towers over Phillip’s six foot frame, casting an intimidating shadow over him. Phillip cowers back, and I purse my lips. I push forward, attempting to break Maximus’s hold, but his arm only bands tighter around me, holding me in place. I slump back against him in defeat, letting out an indignant huff.
“Really?” my dad asks, sighing in exasperation. He quirks an eyebrow expectantly. I open my mouth to echo his statement when I’m interrupted.
“Look at what you’re wearing,” Maximus grumbles. He brings his mouth just above my ear. His warm breath caresses along my neck, sending a shiver of desire down my spine. I feel his words vibrating through his chest, rumbling through my back. His words, gruff and possessive, send a wave of heat over my body.
Looking down, I only now take in the fact that I’m still wearing my barely there bikini. I feel my cheeks heat, flushing partly from the desire I feel and also from the embarrassment.
A moment later, the warm caress of fabric brushes against my skin. A red silk sheath dress slips over my skin, and Maximus loosens his grip slightly, letting the material wash over me, golden specks of power following after it. I feel Maximus’s chest deflate, letting loose the breath he was holding and finally relaxing.
I glance at Adrian, hoping to thank him for the kind gesture. But he stares off across the room, refusing to meet my eyes. My heart sinks a little in my chest, and my shoulders slump forward. Feeling this change in my body language, Maximus pulls me tighter against him. In as close to an embrace as the gruff asshat can manage in a room full of others.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Phil offers cautiously, casting a furtive glance in my father’s direction.
“I wish I didn’t know Phillip, I wish I didn’t know.” My father commiserates, scrubbing a hand over his face. Phil’s brows knit together at his cryptic words before eyeing the others curiously.
“Hello, Phillip,” Kyros steps forward, greeting the god of weaponry with a firm handshake. He turns, eyeing Mateo for a moment, warning the still on edge god of war off. Relenting, Mateo takes a step back, settling at my side. He eyes Maximus’ arm still wrapped tightly around my waist and gives him a pointed look, which Maximus ignores, pulling me back impossibly tighter into his chest. I let out an “Ooof” at the pressure but don’t complain. Enjoying the possessive, territorial god’s rigid muscles pressed against my back.
Despite Kyros’s composure, I didn’t miss the growl of protest that left his lips when I embraced Phillip. I bite my lip, my eyes roving over his lean, muscular frame. He’s calm and assertive, and I would be lying if that possessive streak didn’t make me even more attracted to him. I don’t let my mind wander on that thought, accepting the emotion for what it is. Pushing away the small voice that still murmurs in my mind to run for the hills. Nope, I tried that, and it didn’t work.
“What Osias means by that is, all four of us are mated to Liv.” Kyros gestures to himself and his three blood brothers surrounding me. I swear Phillip’s eyebrows raise almost to his new and improved hairline. “But we can discuss all that later. You said they’re here? The council?” Kyros probes, getting our group back on track.
Phillip blinks in surprise, attempting to organize the onslaught of thoughts that must be rushing through his head. He glances back at my father, gauging his response. Dad just purses his lips, nodding for Phillip to continue. Philip’s mouth moves, but no words come back, his gaze moving to each of us on a constant rotation.
“Mated? Olivia? To four?” His questions come out in blunt words rather than complete sentences. His brows finally fall, knitting together as he attempts to straighten the swirling thoughts in his mind.
“Yes, you were already told that, Phillip,” Mateo growls his name, serving to snap his attention back into focus.
“Ah, yes.” Phillip blinks, composing himself. He clears his throat before straightening and turning his attention to my father once more. “The council has arrived. I tried to hold them off for as long as possible. But they insist on having a meeting with … ” His voice trails off as his eyes move to me. His mouth turns down in an apologetic frown.
Me. The council wants to meet with me before delivering their verdict, whatever that may be. Maximus’ hand clenches on my stomach, and I move my hand over his instinctually, my fingers threading through his. I feel him still behind me, his body going rigid, and I internally scold myself for the too intimate gesture. I go to move my hand away when his fingers clamp around mine, holding my hand in place. My heart leaps in my chest at the acceptance of the comforting gesture, and I relax back into him, feeling his body lose its earlier tension. My eyes shift just in time to see the slight frown pull Mateo’s lips down, his eyes focused on Maximus’ and my entwined fingers.
My father lets out a frustrated sigh, grumbling something under his breath. “Alright, we should go see what the council wants, but first—”
“Not fucking likely, I won’t be summoned by the likes of them. They can kiss my ass for all I care,” Mateo fumes, crossing his arms over his chest in an impetuous gesture.
“I don’t really think they care what we want,” I hedge, looking around, before reluctantly pushing out of Maximus’ grip. And by pushing out, I mean, he hesitates before letting me go. As there would be no way I could possibly extricate myself without his assent. “Our best bet would be to come up with a plan and face them head-on. We don’t know for sure what their verdict is. It might be something we can work with?” I suggest hoping I can rally everyone to get on the same page. We’ve already wasted time with all the bickering and posturing. Sure, I don’t believe they would let anything happen to me, but it’s still my neck on the line.
My father nods at my words before stepping forward. He tugs on his navy blue suit in a power move, directing everyone’s attention towards him. “The council will want the full story on everything that happened during the Ascension.” He eyes me carefully, his gaze kinder than I’d seen it with any of the guys, yet still firm. “I also expect to be filled in on every detail.”
I merely raise a brow in challenge, and he nods, conceding to my silent demands. If he was to find out all my secrets, I would undoubtedly uncover all of his. I nod in acceptance, silently agreeing to exchange my tale for his own.
