Page 73 of Desired By Eros

Artemis gave her a look like she already knew the answer but wasn’t going to say it for her.

Psyche exhaled sharply, rubbing her temples. “That’s—” She hesitated. “That’s reckless. The Acheron? Do you know what that does to souls?”

“I do,” Artemis said. “And so does Eros.”

Psyche’s stomach twisted. The Acheron wasn’t just another river of the Underworld. It was a river of pain, of suffering. Souls that touched it lost themselves. It drained them, hollowed them out. And Eros—he had gone in willingly?

She felt her chest tighten and pressed a hand against her sternum as if trying to steady the chaotic emotions building inside her.

She had ended things with Eros. She had told herself it was for the best. They shouldn’t have started anything in the first place. But now—this changed things. He had gone to the Underworld. Risked himself.

For her.

The thought left her shaken.

She forced herself to meet Artemis’s gaze. “I need to talk to him.”

Artemis nodded like she had expected that. “Then you should do it soon.”

“Where could he even be?” Psyche asked, shifting her weight as an anxious energy settled in her chest.

“Oh, he’s at the archery lesson behind the barn. I make him teach archery to our packmates.”

Psyche nodded, her fingers tightening at her sides. “Oh, okay. I should go there.”

She crouched down, placing Liam gently on the floor, smoothing a hand over his soft curls. “Bye, baby. I’ll see you later.”

Liam gurgled in response and smiled at her.

“See you later,” Artemis said with a smile.

Psyche rushed out of the house, her heart beating a little faster as she made her way toward the barn. When she got closer, she slowed down, spotting him immediately. Eros stood at the archery range, bow in hand, his stance steady and effortless. He released an arrow, and it sliced cleanly through the air, hitting its mark. He looked good—too good, really—but she forced herself to focus.

Then he turned to a teenager nearby, adjusting the boy’s grip with careful, precise movements. His voice was calm, instructing, and patient. Then, as soon as he was done, he walked away.

Oh no.

Psyche’s stomach twisted, and she picked up her pace. But he was moving too fast.

She started walking faster. Then, realizing she wouldn’t catch up, she broke into a run.

“Eros!”

He stopped and turned just as she reached him—too fast to stop herself and she collided with his chest.

“Psyche?” His hands caught her waist, steadying her before she could fall. His touch sent a jolt through her, and for a moment, everything else seemed to disappear.

Psyche steadied herself, heart pounding, hands still pressed against Eros’s chest. His warmth seeped through his shirt, but his expression was unreadable. Everything she had just learned sat heavy in her chest, and the words tumbled out before she could stop them.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Eros blinked, his brows pulling together. “What?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Bob?” she demanded, stepping back slightly.

Eros exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair. “Fucking Artemis,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t have told her anything.”

Psyche’s stomach twisted. “Why didn’t you tell me that you had to get the pyxis?” she pressed, her voice firmer now.

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