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More than just being a safe space though, itcouldbe a strong message of condemnation to the mortal agathos at how far they’d fallen from the original ideals of the founders of our lines. Yes, they were following Gaia’s lead and I could sort of understand why they’d feel righteous in their actions—they were sanctioned by a goddess. Except, it fell apart under the smallest amount of critical thought and slightest application of empathy.
Gaia was scrambling to retain the power she’d fought the Olympians for all those years ago, and promptly done nothing with. When the world around us had started falling apart from neglect, her response had been to make things worse out of spite, because she felt as though she hadn’t received the worship and respect she was due.
Maybe once upon a time, that was true. Us mortalshadn’tbeen as careful with the gift of earth that Gaia had given us as we should have been. But disappearing completely and then returning in a rage, ready to destroy everything wasn’t the solution. Gaia had fought for the power she wielded over mortals, taken it from the gods who’dwantedthe responsibility, and imprisoned them.
For what?
It felt frustrating and wasteful. Unnecessarily dramatic, even. There was so much suffering, and for what?
“You okay, Grace?” Dare asked, reminding me that I’d been silent for a long time, lost in my thoughts.
“Sorry, yes. After you, um, passed out, Hygeia suggested we go to the home of the original agathos, that we would be safe there.”
“You’d rather go there than Leonidio?” Dare’s fingers burrowed through my hair, idly massaging the back of my neck, and I nearly groaned at the contact.
I wasn’t sure hemeantfor it to be sexual, and it really wasn’t the time, but there was an innate kind of sexuality to Dare that made my knees go weak. Maybe because he was a Philotes daimon?
“Yes and no. I don’t want to put the others in danger, and ultimately the prophecy was for me, not them. There’s going to come a point where I have to do this on my own.”
“Never on your own,” Dare replied, gripping my chin and guiding my face up to his. “I know we just met and this is all kind of weird and happening at warp speed, but if there’s one thing I know, it’s that you don’t ever have to face the world alone, Grace. You’re too loved for that.”
“You’re kind of a sweet talker, huh?” I whispered, my lips drawn toward his as though we were being magnetically pulled together. Dare’s fingers were still massaging hypnotizing circles at the base of my neck, and somehow I felt that small amount of contacteverywhere.
Dare smirked, lips brushing teasingly over mine, just a whisper of a kiss. A promise. I wanted the bond so bad that I could almost see the missing thread between us forming, reaching for him, eager to intertwine our souls.
The door opened and we broke apart with a start, finding Wild standing there with two bowls of food in his hands and a faintly amused look on his face.
“To be continued,” Dare promised, shooting me a wink.
Chapter 6
Whateverhealingmagicthatagathos goddess had used on me had really wiped me out. I scoffed down the delicious spinach and rice dish Wild had given me, fully intending to pick up where I’d left off with Grace, only to pass out immediately afterward, sleeping the day away then through the night. Her and Riot had both woken me a couple of times under the guise of giving me water, but I was pretty sure they were checking I was still alive.
I’d seen Wild standing in the doorway sometimes in those moments of wakefulness, watching over everything like a sentinel, but I got the distinct impression that Bullet was avoiding me.
Grace was asleep next to me as I pondered, Riot wrapped around her from behind, both of them breathing evenly. They looked so comfortable, so used to each other. I wasn’t jealous, not quite, but I did feel a little unnecessary. A spare part that no one knew what to do with.
Get your shit together. You just got here,I told myself sternly, silently slipping out of the bed without disturbing either of them, desperately needing to wash. There was a stack of assorted guys’ clothes on the dresser, all of which were sort of rest home-chic, but I guessed this was all they had on them. Finding a shirt and shorts that looked like they’d fit, I ducked into the ensuite, hoping the shower wouldn’t wake Grace and Riot.
As physically draining as I’d found Hygeia’s healing process, this was the best I’d felt in ages. Nothing hurt anymore, and that was a small miracle. I was free of open wounds and could finally have a proper shower and wash the remnants of the crash off my skin.
Unfortunately, my mind wouldn’t be so easy to heal. Maybe the gods of the underworld would be kind enough to let us detour through their lands for the return trip, because I had zero intention of ever getting on an aircraft again. Fuck that. I’d rather swim home from Europe than get on a plane.
Home.
Was I ever going home? To Milton?
It wasn’t that I felt super attached to it, really. Home was a concept rather than a fixed place, and without Mom around… I swallowed thickly, shaking off the thought. Almost everyone I gave a shit about was here, except for little Quinn.
Under the hot spray of the shower, on my own, small doubts about Grace arose that I recognized were partly motivated by fear. My experiences with agathos hadn’t been good ones, and I didn’t want to look into her and seethem, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. And then there was the almost overwhelming pull to Grace that I knew was supernatural, a side effect of the soul bond.
So how much wasme? How much wasGrace? Would we actually like each other without an external force shoving us together? If we’d met in the real world, would we be attracted to each other? She was objectively beautiful, in a polished, elegant sort of way that wasn’t traditionally my type. And I was pretty fucking confident that she’d have never looked twice at a daimon if the Fates hadn’t landed her with four of them.
I washed quickly, not wanting to use too much hot water when it sounded like there were a hundred people staying here, and hopped out of the shower, drying off and pulling on the dark linen shirt and shorts. I felt a bit like someone’s rich golf-playing grandpa, but whatever.
More distressing were the jagged scars from the crash. I didn’t care about scars in general—they made me look kind of badass—but they’d totally ruined the perfect symmetry of my tattoos, and I’d never get that back.
With a resigned sigh, I let myself out of the bathroom, peeking into the bedroom to find Grace and Riot still asleep, very much tangled up in each other. Not wanting to wake them, I tiptoed down the stairs into the living room where Wild and Bullet were crashed out on the L-shaped couch, the tops of their heads almost touching.
