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Raiden’s fingers traced along my knuckles. I lay back against my pillows, looking at the rain-splattered window. “What happened to your hand?”
I bit my lip. “I punched Naomi’s dad.”
An amused smile curled his lips. “What did he do to deserve such a thing?”
“He’s just an ass.”
“Say no more.” He raised my hand, brushed his lips against it with a whisper of a kiss, and the bruises healed. “You’re so strong, Elle. When I first got here, you couldn’t see it. I hope you do now. When I’m gone from here, you should go to see your sister.”
A lump formed in my throat. “I’m.” I paused. “I’m afraid to.”
“I know, but you’ll always be putting it off if you don’t. Don’t wait until it’s too late. Edmund will let you go. You know he will.”
I closed my eyes. “I know.”
He nodded slowly. “I have something for you.” He stood, reached into his bag, and pulled the weapon out.
I stared at the glowing, gem-encrusted hilt, moving my gaze along the smooth blue blade. “Thalia’s dagger.”
“It’s yours. This way you can protect yourself when I’m gone.”
“I can’t.” I blinked back tears.
“You will.” He placed it into my hands. “And you can. I never gave you enough credit for killing that hound. You protected Thalia, for me, and she protected you, for me.” Pain swept through his gaze, pulling at my heartstrings.
“If Freya comes back, I’ll make sure to stick it in her heart,” I said with promise, gripping the hilt and pointing it outward.
He smirked, lowering the blade with his finger. “I’m going to finish Freya once I’ve killed my father. I’m coming back. Lucius’s going to make sure of it. I won’t be able to come back for long, not with taking his place, but long enough to take her head.”
My chest heaved. “I’m sorry you’re leaving.” I wanted to beg him not to go, but I couldn’t be selfish. Not with him. “I wish…”
“Me too, but just enjoy being here, being mortal. Remember what I told you once?”
“About feeling alive?” I nodded. “It’s just crazy.” I laughed through the sadness. “You’ll be alive forever, always remembered as a god. There are literal books written about you, about Thalia, Aziel, Leda…”
He ran his finger along my cheek. “In the end, Elle, we’re all stories. Mortal. Immortal. It doesn’t matter. When we die, an entire library dies with us.”
“Then what’s the point? Everyone stops reading them eventually, or listening to them,” I said, tired of the book metaphor. “I know nothing of my great-grandparents. I’ll be forgotten one day.”
He grazed his lips against my hand, sending tingles through my fingers. “I’m immortal.”
“I know.”
“Then you’ll never be forgotten.”
My heart skipped a beat.
He continued. “You make me feel alive, Elle. You make me want to live a thousand stories right here with you.”
I could hardly breathe.
“Now it’s my turn.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “To make you feel alive.” He lifted me off the bed, holding me tightly in his arms. “Hold on.”
The breath whooshed from my lungs as he sped me through the house and to the edge of town. I held onto him when we stopped, steadying myself from the momentary lack of balance.
“What in the underworld are you doing?”
He smirked, the darkness growling around us. I panicked, until I realized the dark shadow was in fact a panther.
