Page 49 of Desired By Eros

“Hephaestus helped you?”

He took a deep breath, staring into the fire as the weight of his words hung in the air.

“Hephaestus made a magical pyxis,” he said quietly. “It was a container that held Cyncus’s magic, but it also took the magic of everyone in his bloodline. That included me. So, until I could eat the golden apple of immortality, we were stuck in Thessaly, hiding out from my father’s reach. Hephaestus had a way of protecting us…but it was far from freedom.”

“I can’t even imagine,” she said softly, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass.

Eros gave a slight nod. “It wasn’t easy. But it kept my mother safe. And Hephaestus, he…he made it bearable. I wouldn’t have made it through without him.”

Psyche’s voice was gentle when she asked, “Did your father…did he hit you too?”

He hesitated for a moment before answering. “Only when I tried to protect my mother,” he said, the words coming out with a quiet edge. “He would punish me when I stood up to him. But…Hephaestus became part of our lives, and that made it better. He taught me a lot, showed me there was more to life than my father’s cruelty. That’s probably the one good thing Zeus did. Hephaestus became part of our lives…he kept us safe.”

Psyche was quiet for a moment, processing his words. “Wow, that must have been really rough.”

“It was,” he agreed, his gaze shifting to the sky above them. “But we made it through. And now…now I’m just trying to figure out what comes next. Without my powers, things are different. But it’s still better than being stuck in Vale Crossing forever.”

“So, you can’t go to Vale Crossing because of your relatives?”

He nodded, his expression hardening slightly. “Yeah. Who knows what they’d do? If I had my powers, at least I could fight them off.

“It’s messed up,” he added, his voice low. “Maybe that’s why I’m the way I am.”

“Sure, you’re all those things. But I’ve seen a different side of you. The way you are with me—patient, sweet, and thoughtful. It’s in you, Eros. You just have to show everyone else that side of you.”

He paused, studying her face. The warmth in her eyes, the trust she had in him—he hadn’t known he had it in him to make someone believe in him like that.

“What?” she asked, smiling.

A strange pressure tightened in his chest, something he couldn’t quite name. He stood and pulled her into his arms, feeling the softness of her body against his. In the glow of the firelight, her eyes took on a rich hazel hue, deep and warm. Without a word, he kissed her gently, a slow, lingering kiss that held all the things he hadn’t yet said.

When they pulled away, Eros smiled and answered her question. “Nothing. I just really like kissing you.”

She smiled, her fingers curling into his shirt. “I like it too.”

He pressed a quick kiss on her lips and then turned to the grill. “I think this is ready.”

“It does smell good.”

They sat down to dinner, and as they ate, Psyche sang his praises, telling him how good the meal was and how much she appreciated the effort. It was a simple moment, but it felt nice to him. After all, he hadn’t been expecting this kind of connection to be so…comfortable.

He looked over at her, taking a sip of his drink before asking, “So, what are your coping mechanisms? How do you handle everything?”

Psyche leaned back in her chair, considering the question for a moment. “I have a few,” she said slowly. “First, I’m very mindful of my triggers. I pay close attention to how I’m feeling in different situations.”

“That sounds like something you’ve learned to do over time,” he remarked, watching her closely.

“Yeah, definitely,” she replied. “I’ve developed three main methods. The first one is deep breathing. I’ll just take a few slow breaths, which helps me refocus and calm down. The second is grounding techniques, like focusing on the physical sensations around me—touching something cold or noticing what I see around me.”

“And the third?” he asked, curious to hear more.

“The third is journaling,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Writing things down, putting my thoughts on paper, helps me organize them. It makes it easier to separate emotions from facts and gain some perspective.”

He nodded, impressed by how thought-out her coping mechanisms were. “Seems like you’ve really figured out how to handle things.”

“I’ve had to,” she said with a small, self-deprecating smile. “It’s really about being aware of triggers and having ways of dealing with them before they get too overwhelming. You could probably use some of them, too.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

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