Page 28 of Flame and Fury

We lie like that in the silence while the storm rages. I grow aware of each of his breaths and the feel of his heartbeat beneath my hands. Atlas throws his leg over mine, pulling me closer. I’m still cold, but my body is slowly heating just from being pressed against him.

Atlas’s arms are wrapped around me, and one warm hand finds its way under my sweatshirt and splays over my lower back. Gods, his touch burns me.

“I didn’t see snow until I was fifteen.” Atlas’s voice is hushed, but the sound reverberates through my body.

I should keep my mouth closed. I should keep my walls up. He’s trouble I shouldn’t want to let in. But I want to know more so damn badly. Atlas and I are in a really weird place. A month ago, we were strangers. Then there’s that little instance where we had sex. Mind blowing, life altering sex at that. That doesn’t mean you know a person.

I want to believe I understand who he is beneath the stoic veneer. Atlas wears this mask of impassiveness. He doesn’t want the world to see any of his emotions. Most of the time he has it perfected, and there are no cracks that reveal the real him. But I’ve started to see more and more of the man who exists behind that wall.

Yet, even as I learn new things about him, they blindside me. He’s lied to me, and I’ve been manipulated by his actions. At the same time, I understand why he’s done what he’s done. He has good reasons. It’s not like he lied to me because he wants a leg up in the game, or because Zeus told him to. He's fighting for the little people. My neighbors and all of us who grew up with next to nothing. How can I be mad at that?

I’m not usually wrong about people and it’s painful how much I don’t want to be wrong about Atlas.

“Really?” My fingers curl into his sweatshirt. His thumb moves back and forth over the skin of my lower back.

“The training compound moves around. Kind of like the Olympus House. The clerics decide where they want it to be at any point in time.”

Ice pings against the window and I huddle closer to Atlas. His hand moves up and down my back in a slow stroke. I’m not sure he even realizes he’s doing it.

What must it be like to never have a permanent home? We may not have had a lot, but I always had that because of my dad. With him the house didn’t matter, it was the love he had for me that made it a home. Did Atlas ever have that? Or was the only attention he was shown related to his fighting.

“You said your aunt, Kat, used to come see you?” My face is pressed into his chest, and I feel him stiffen. He’s quiet for so long that I worry I’ve said something wrong. I tip my head back to look at him, but it’s too dark to see anything.

“It was difficult getting information about our location, especially when I was young. She would visit as much as she could. She had to be careful not to let the gods find out that the two of us were connected. She wasn’t known as the head of the Underground until the last few years, but she’s been working in secret for much longer than that.”

“The two of you are close?”

“She’s the only family that has ever given a shit about me.” Atlas’s voice is rougher than normal.

“Will you tell me what happened? How you ended up in the training center?” I hold my breath. Atlas has been very free with my secrets, but he hasn’t shared many of his own. If he shuts me down, it’ll be just the reminder I need that I’m not important enough to know his history.

I wait, trying to regulate my breathing so Atlas doesn’t realize how important his answer, or lack of an answer, is to me.

“My mother was Zeus’s lover.”

My heart trips in my chest. He answered. I wait for Atlas to go on, because well, he’s Zeus’s son. There obviously had to be something between the deity and Atlas’s mom.

“He came to her in the guise of a regular man. He played the part so well that they were engaged to be married. That’s when Hera found out.” Atlas’s hand stops its movement on my back, his fingers pressing into my muscle the tiniest bit. I give into the craving and slide my hand around his waist. He’s strength and sinewy muscles. A coiled viper that could strike at the slightest hint of danger, even when it’s just the two of us.

“My mother was already pregnant when Hera showed up at her home. Zeus arrived in time to save her and outed himself as being a god at the same time. According to my aunt, my mother was devastated by the betrayal. She ran and hid for several years. Eventually, Zeus found her, and me. I don’t remember much about my mother, except that we moved often and without warning. Hera was never far behind. But the day Zeus found my mother, Hera was too late. As retribution for running away and keeping his child from him, Zeus struck her down with a bolt of lightning.” Atlas huffs out an exasperated laugh. “As if he would’ve wanted anything to do with raising a child. I didn’t have a choice after that. Zeus enrolled me in one of the training centers. I was four. Occasionally, he would summon me, and I would have to stay with him. That never lasted long, because Zeus couldn’t care less about another bastard and Hera hated seeing the reminder of Zeus’s infidelity.”

Atlas chuckles, probably because Zeus's infidelity is legendary. The man couldn’t keep it in his pants if you paid him. Atlas’s chin is resting on top of my head, and his jaw flexes against my hair. He might be laughing, but the memory still burns. My fingers twitch against his back and I squeeze his sweatshirt, wishing I was bold enough to slide my hands over his bare skin like he’s doing to me.

This is the most personal thing Atlas has ever shared with me. He just bared his most painful memories. That doesn’t mean I forgive him for lying to me, or for putting me in the situation with Kat and the Underground, but a sliver of empathy fissures my heart.

“My mother’s death never should’ve occurred. My father and Hera play with humans like they’re insignificant marionettes. Human life holds no value for them. And something needs to be done. What happened with my mom is why Kat started the Underground. She got good at helping us hide, made connections that she still has to this day. I think seeing what my mom went through lit a fire under her and that’s why she wants to change things.”

His quiet words are fierce, but there’s an underlying vulnerability to them that pierces my heart.Another complicated facet of his personality.

I don’t want to feel sympathy for him right now because I’m still pissed at him. But my heart aches knowing that Kat is all he has. I imagine Atlas at four years old, thrown to the wolves at the training compound. Gods, I bet he was adorable, all blond and wide eyed. And he was alone. At least I had my dad until I was sixteen. He was still taken from me way too young, but I got so many good years with him. There was also my grandmother. She would spend time with me when she could, but it was always dangerous for us both. In many ways I was a lot luckier than most people. That doesn’t mean I don’t understand loneliness, and I recognize it in this man.

The silence grows between us. I should roll over and give him my back again. Stop this conversation before I say something I’ll regret.

“You told someone my secret.” Oops. Too late.

There’s an ache in my throat and, dammit all to Hades, my eyes get suspiciously swimmy. I blink a few times and am grateful for the dark.

“I’m sorry, little bird.” Atlas breathes out the apology like it's a relief to speak the words.

---