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“Yes, you use your power in the same way but direct it inwards, healing your own wounds.”
“You mean to tell me you could have healed yourself that entire time? Why would you slice your own arm when your end goal was to teach me how to heal myself?” I purse my lips. That sneaky god of healing forced me to use my powers on him, even knowing my hesitance.
“I would much rather be in pain than have to see you suffer,” he says simply, as though it should be obvious.
“I can’t believe you,” I huff out in a frustrated breath. I attempt to wiggle out of Kyros’ grasp, but he only wraps his arms tighter around me, holding me in place.
“Are you seriously mad at me for not slicing your arm open?” He chuckles wryly, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Yes, I am,” I declare with another huff. My eyebrows crease, replaying his words again. “No, I’m not—wait, yes—yes I am,” I say confidently this time, and I nod emphatically. I hold his gaze, both of us looking back at the other with a severe expression. That is, until his lips quirk up into a small smile and an unbidden laugh bubbles up past his lips. I can’t help but join him, both of us quickly devolving into a fit of giggles.
Our laughter tapers off, and I gaze into his honey-brown eyes. His broad smile makes his dimples I adore, even more prominent. Our faces draw nearer, and I’m entranced. My lips crave the caress of his. He moves forward, but I place a hand on his chest, halting his movement as memories from our unfinished conversation this morning resurface.
“Kyros, we should really talk about everything,” I say sheepishly, and look off to the side, not wanting to meet his eyes as guilt slithers its way intrusively into my chest.
“We should.”
To my surprise, his voice doesn’t lose the note of amusement. Slowly, I turn back around and find his eyes still twinkling. I eye him suspiciously, not understanding how he could be so understanding. I expected his mood to drop at me, broaching the subject.
“I’m sorry about how I reacted, for letting Maximus’ words affect me so much, for running away from it all.” The words rush out. I need to get the pressing weight off my chest.
I want to go back to how everything was before, our light banter when I first met him, his comforting, understanding presence caring for me after the first demon attack.
“I’m also sorry for how I reacted, when you first asked to put a pause on anything romantic, I—I always thought that I was to blame for my father being distant, for him always being away.” I pull in a deep, shuddering breath, struggling to get each word out, but I continue on, encouraged by his open expression, not rushing me or judging me for my insecurities. “With all the truths being revealed I’m starting to realize it was never my fault, it was a matter of circumstance. With him trying to hide me in the mortal realm, and never truly having any idea or example of how to raise a child, he did the best that he could. It doesn’t excuse everything, but it’s helping me realize I shouldn’t be blaming myself.”
Saying the words aloud helps cement those thoughts in my mind. Of course it doesn’t mean that all my problems will slip away now, but it does help quell my fear of letting anyone get too close.
“If you want to go back to teaching, I can wait. But, I don’t want you to give up something that you enjoy, and are very good at for me.” I need him to know I’m willing to wait for him, to develop the connection between us.
His hands slide up to cup my cheeks and hold my head still. I hadn’t realized my nervous gaze had been darting around the room. Alternating between looking at him and looking away when the emotions got too real.
His steady presence lets me exhale, and gradually my thundering heartbeat slows back to a normal pace with each steady breath.
“I never wanted to teach, Olivia.” I open my mouth, attempting to voice my protests. He holds a finger up, motioning me to wait. “Healing is my calling, and knowledge and reading is my passion. I only stepped in because I was needed, and I didn’t want you or your friends to fall further behind in your studies.”
“Now I definitely feel like an asshole,” I admit, chagrined. He’s such a skilled teacher. I thought it was something he wanted to do. I hadn’t realized that he was only doing it for my friends and me.
“Don’t.” He tightens his fingers against my cheeks, pulling my attention back to him. “I get it. I mean, I didn’t at first, but now knowing your father and how you must have grown up. With him having one foot in each realm, I get it. I understand how that must have been for you, especially at such a young age.”
Heat radiates from my chest at his thoughtful words. The sentiment fills me with a sense of hope that I can share my thoughts and be not only heard, but understood.
“I won’t lie and say it didn’t upset me because it did. But I was serious about what I said yesterday. I want you to come to me and talk to me about what you’re thinking rather than keeping it all inside. I won’t pretend that I know exactly what you went through, because I don’t, but I’m always here to listen and lend an outside perspective.”
My desire to move closer to him builds, and I find myself leaning closer as though pulled in by his magnetic force. He must have the same thoughts as his fervent gaze is trained on me. His hands guide me, and he draws nearer, helping to close the distance.
My eyes flutter closed as his lips capture mine in a claiming kiss, done with the teasing light touches. The emotions building up to this light a burning need within me. His tongue delves between my lips, exploring me, tasting me in much the same way I do to him.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself closer, needing to feel his chest against mine. My skirt drapes across his thigh, no longer a barrier between us. All that remains is the soft fabric of his slacks tickling my thighs. My pulse quickens at the feeling. He slides one hand to tangle through my hair, gripping the back of my head and keeping me pressed against him, as though scared that at any moment I could vanish.
The thought draws a whimper from my lips, and I pull myself even closer, pressing my breasts against his chest. My nipples harden at the contact, even through our shirts, and I wish there was less of a barrier between us. He wraps his other hand around my waist, pulling my hips closer. His growing erection presses against my core. Just feeling it hard and ready for me elicits a moan from my lips. His mouth swallows the sound, and I move against him, building my need up further as his tongue caresses mine.
I circle my hips on his length, feeling it twitch beneath me at the contact. He groans against my lips, and his fingers tighten on my hips, keeping me pressed against him as he arches up into me.
He pulls his lips away, only to move them down my neck. The pressure against my sensitive skin makes my hips jerk against him. His groan of approval vibrates on my skin. He slides his hands from my hip and smoothes over my skirt teasingly until he finds the hem.
A whimper escapes my lips at his fingers gently sliding along the soft skin of my thigh. My core grows wet in anticipation of his teasing fingers slipping my lace panties aside and delving—
“Are you fucking serious?” A deep rumble sounds off to the side. Breaking the haze of lust that had washed over me. I whip my head to the side, but Kyros doesn’t react, clearly already knowing who stands at the door by his voice.
