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“How do you know?” Erus challenged. “Have you ever asked him?”
“I…well…no.” It was just one of those unspoken understandings.
“Maybe you should.” Cupping the side of Orrin’s neck, Erus leaned in for a slow, tender kiss. “The answer might surprise you.”
Chapter Seven
Kol Livingston Raines. A thirty-something human with a quiet demeanor and accepting nature. He was the kind of person most people aspired to be, and the kind of friend everyone wanted in their corner.
And he had been staring at Erus with wide eyes and an open mouth for a solid ten minutes.
His mate—Remington Raines, cheetah shifter, a little full of himself—wore a strikingly similar expression. Beside him, the local sheriff—Vander Hale, remarkably chill for a werewolf—was also staring. His timid and neurotic mate, Frederick “Fritz” Tolliver, was just a baby witch, but he had a lot of power packed into his small frame. At the moment, however, he looked like he had just swallowed his tongue.
Seated on Kol’s back deck at a wide, stone table with a rectangular fire pit running the length in the center, Erus watched them watching him. It was all very meta, and it kind of made his brain hurt.
“Imagine how they feel,” Orrin whispered to him through their bond. “I think you broke them.” His gaze traveled to the end of the table, and he chuckled under his breath. “Well, most of them.”
Erus glanced at the couple beside him and sighed. Thorn McIver, former head of Orrin’s Guard, appeared utterly unbothered by the proceedings. Wren, however, the tiny fucking terror, kept tilting his head from side to side and squinting his eyes.
“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, no longer able to ignore the pest.
“You don’t look like a god.”
“I’m not a god.” Besides, what the fuck did that even mean?
“Do you really turn into—”
“I’m not a dog.” He was going to murder Charon for starting that rumor.
“You’re really that Cerberus?” Kol asked, finally finding his voice. “I thought those stories were just that. Stories.”
“I wonder how they’d react if they knew unicorns really existed?” Orrin mused.
Somehow, he imagined that would go down a hell of a lot easier.
“This is weird,” Fritz mumbled. His eyes widened, and his face paled when he realized he had spoken aloud. “Oh, my gods, I didn’t—wait. Shit. Is that offensive?”
Erus sighed. “I’m not a god.”
He didn’t actually know what or even who he was. Or rather, who he had been before he’d died. He also didn’t have a clue what Hades had seen in him, or why he had chosen him.
One day, he had been wandering the banks of the Acheron River, cold and scared, with no way to pay the ferryman for the crossing. Then, he had been plucked from obscurity and given purpose. It had been Hades who had given him the name Cerberus, along with the powers he now possessed.
All he had asked for in return was that Erus guard the gates and prevent souls from leaving. Erus had done the job for a while, and he had performed it admirably.
Until he’d gotten bored, and his selfishness had overridden loyalty and good sense.
Fuck, he was such a dick.
“And you’re mated to Orrin?” Remi glanced between the pair. “That’s intense.” He grunted when Kol elbowed him in the ribs. “We were all thinking it!”
“I believe what he meant to say,” Kol said as he glared at his mate, “is that we are very happy for you both. Congratulations.”
“It’s still kind of disappointing that you don’t have three heads,” Wren grumbled. “So, what can you do?”
“I can turn you inside out if you don’t stop annoying me.”
“Really?” His whole damn face lit up like the morning sky. “Will it hurt?” He tilted his head. “Will I die?” His smile brightened as he looked across the table at Fritz. “That’s okay. Fritz can bring me back.”
