“Such as?”
It was unsurprising that he’d follow up, but I was startled by my inclination to tell him what we had learned. To share everything with him, as I used to in our joined dreams, and see what his reaction would be.
I realized that I truly didn’t know what he would do if he found out how the bond could be broken.
“Different things,” I said, trying to brush away his curiosity. I worried that I wouldn’t be able to squelch it for long. That eventually he would find out what I was doing in Ilion. Or what Io had told me earlier.
I turned my attention back to the books. There were too many to choose from. How had he moved all of this down here? Had he done it himself? Had his brothers helped him?
Again, just like when I’d been in the city’s main library, there was no clear way for me to pick. There didn’t seem to be any type of organization here, probably because he had been in a hurry to move them as quickly as he could.
I tried using my Suri method to search but couldn’t clear my mind. His gift and his words overwhelmed every other thought. So I did it based on sight, on the books that looked old, and internally prayed that I would choose something worthwhile.
Part of me hoped that I might find a passage about the vows priestesses had taken a thousand years ago. The true vows.
And maybe I would discover that they didn’t include a vow of celibacy.
Chapter Fifty-Two
My sisters were thrilled by the new books, with Io being the most excited. Xander privately told Io how to find the library so that she could go there herself if she wanted to. I wondered if he would tell her that he had given it to me, but he didn’t. And I was grateful for his silence because I could already picture the smug look on Io’s face as she celebrated his thoughtful gift to me, hinting about the deeper meaning.
I added a new word to my sisters’ word hunt—“Locris.” Io gave them another word as well—“savior.”
Despite the fact that I was free to roam the palace, we stayed in Io’s room and had our meals delivered. Getting these books felt like the break I had been looking for. Now I would find the eye. I would save Locris. Maybe we would even find the goddess’s name and I could use it to call on her, as she had once instructed me. The information was all at my fingertips—I just had to locate the right book and I knew that I had a few months to do so.
The hour grew so late that everyone was yawning. My skin buzzed with energy. I wasn’t sleepy. I wanted to keep reading. But Io told me to go to bed and that we could start again in the morning.
When I got to my room, Xander was already asleep. It felt strange until I remembered the reason why I usually went to sleep before him—I had been confined to my room. I went into the washroom to prepare for bed and to change my clothes. When I went over to my side of the bed, I stroked Luna’s back but she didn’t stir. She slept a lot. Itconcerned me how often she slept. I made a mental note to ask Io about it as I crawled into bed.
Sleep wouldn’t come. I moved into different positions, tossing and turning in my attempt to get comfortable. I flipped my pillow over, as it felt too hot. Nothing seemed to be working.
I turned on my side to face Xander. The moon was full and it lovingly bathed my husband in its silver light. I remembered the story Io had told us about the god of desire and the mortal woman he had loved. He knew that to look upon him meant obsession and death, so he appeared to her as a bear during the day and would not join her in their bedchamber until she had fallen asleep. He made her promise that she would never look at him in his true form.
His new bride was determined to do as he asked and had taken to wearing a blindfold while sleeping so that she wouldn’t accidentally see him.
And then one night, she suddenly awoke to find that her blindfold had slipped off and her husband lay next to her in their bed.
She remembered the rule and did her best to resist, to not look, to do the one thing he had asked of her, but she couldn’t stop herself from gazing upon hm. She drank him in because he was magnificent. She reached out to touch his face, thinking he couldn’t possibly be real.
When Io had told us that tale, I had imagined Xander as the god, understanding why his wife couldn’t stop staring.
The god awoke, furious and sorrowful, because anyone who saw his true form would obsess over him to the point of death and he didn’t want that for the woman he loved. He had to leave her so she wouldn’t get worse.
Io said the woman spent the rest of her days searching for her husband, not eating, not drinking, not sleeping. She only wanted her true love. The council of gods took pity on her and brought her to him in the next realm, granting her immortality so that they might spend eternity together. That the love all humans felt was because of the love they still bore for one another.
I had thought the story impossibly romantic, and as I watched Xander sleep, I completely understood what had driven her. Why she couldn’t stop staring. I could watch him endlessly and never tire of it. I imagined that said quite a bit about what a shallow person I was—that despite knowing all I did, I was still so easily swayed by the perfection of his flesh and form.
I studied the planes and lines of his face. I drank him in. I would have given my whole soul to remain here forever and watch him sleep.
I also wanted to touch him and I hated that I felt that way. I wanted him to embrace me. I loved the sensation of his strong arms around me, holding me tight. He somehow made me feel secure, as if everything would work out in the end.
Which was ridiculous and I was behaving like a lovesick fool.
I let out a deep breath and flopped onto my back, staring up at the ceiling. He was just a man. Not the god of desire. He had no magical gift that made it so I couldn’t stop staring.
All the same, my head turned toward him again. He had his hands tucked under his head, beneath his pillow. He looked so boyish and peaceful while he slept, his long dark lashes settled onto his perfectly sculpted cheeks as he calmly breathed in and out. He was my Jason again.
The urge to touch him welled up inside me but I knew that to do so was madness. It had woken the god of desire up. It would probably wake Xander, too.