Page 26 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows
His stubble grazes my skin, and I’m hooked. His mischievous tongue claims my greedy mouth in a bruising kiss, exploring. My overheated skin prickles. His fingers travel across my chest, up my neck, and into my hair. I arch into him, driving the friction higher, unleashing all the pent-up tension in our kiss.
When I reluctantly pull away from him, our eyeslock. We’re impossibly hard. His pulse throbs at his neck, the flush spreading over his cheeks. He can’t deny I’m no fairytale or make-believe prince. But rushing into this might be a recipe for disaster. A knot forms in my chest when I remind myself what gods are capable of, that we don’t fall for mortals, wecan’t.
Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Théo’s lips curve into a devilish smile as he shares his unsurprising conclusion.
“Divinely real.”
Chapter Eleven
HEROES
Théo
Café Magnifique smells of fresh coffee and baked goods, its rustic charm offset by the golden glow of Edison bulbs dangling from the ceiling. The wooden tables are scarred from years of use, and mismatched chairs creak slightly as customers settle into them. A chalkboard menu hangs behind the counter, listing drinks and pastries in uneven, handwritten letters. It has a homey warmth to it—both familiar and welcoming, resembling a friend’s kitchen more than a business.
The lunchtime rush is over, leaving a short line. I steal a glance at Zagreus’s sinful mouth, heat rising as I recall the blissful moment we shared. A kiss that made us hard as granite. A kiss that enlightened me about his true nature. A kiss that I long to reenact. With the fire we ignited, our attraction can’t be denied.
But it’s been over a month, and there’s been no progress. We agreed to quell the hunger screaming in our bodies. My favorite Greek god suggested we take things slow and get to know each other better.
As much as I love it, and my job taught me to be patient, putting my attraction under wraps is new to me… and man, this is not my jam!
Granted, it allowed me to accept him as he is. Real. Otherworldly. Fascinating. What he is not? An imaginary friend fabricated by my lonely and horny brain.
Despite our surreal trip to the pit of the Earth, it took me weeks to wrap my head around his true nature. He is Zagreus. Son of Hades. Prince of the Underworld. Occasional elevator operator. Expert kisser. What a combo!
Once the realization sank in, I devoured articles and stories about this Greek god. Legends surround his name, his life, as well as his death and rebirth. I can’t believe he’s a video game character. Yet, I’m the lucky mortal who gets to see who he is—bit by bit, piece by piece.
I’ve steered clear of mentioning him when I text Noé. I’m torn—wary of Zagreus and his world. But another side of me—the one drawn to a guy thirsty for knowledge—doesn’t give a flying fuck about the myths. There’s a legend, yes, but it’s not the truth. Not ours.
I value the bond we’re building, day by day, over steamy cups of java more often than not. Sharing stories, trading curiosities, diving into a world that’s split in two—distinct halves of one greater world.
On top of his larger-than-life history, having a one-night stand with him didn’t sit right for more reasons than I can count. I am a guest, and he works here—a recipe for disaster. We’re bound to cross paths again on the premises, no matter how things end. Beyond that, Zagreus has been fixated onHidden Shadows,hinting that he wants me to play a role in my scheme that doesn’t quite match what I was assigned.
We’ve just got back from our second visit to the museum, and my legs are heavy with a dull ache from all the walking, but his energy hasn’t faded. Must be nice to be a god who never tires.
I glance up at the menu. “Grilled cheese… yeah, that sounds good,” I declare before returning my attention to my Greek friend by my side. “Simple, comforting.”
Zagreus smirks for no apparent reason as the line creeps towards the register.
“What?” I snap, unable to hide my irritation when I realize it’s because of my selection.
“Nothing…” He pauses, not carrying on until after we place our order—a grilled veggie sandwich on focaccia with pesto for him.
We find a spot while waiting for our names to be called. Well, I’m Théo, obviously, but he goes by Ziggy. He says his real name draws odd looks, and he’s a die-hard Bowie fan.
Seated at a round table by a large window, I smile, wondering if he’ll offer me an explanation. I keep my mouth shut and wait, but our silence is interrupted by Justice, one of the male staff members, on the opposite side of the café.
“Ziggy and Théo.”
As much as I hate to admit it, I like the sound of that far more than I should.
“I’ll get it.” Before I can react, he moves with that effortless, godly grace of his. One second he’s relaxed, the next, he’s halfway to the counter. That’s how he slipped in paying forlunch—sneaky bastard—refusing my money when I protested. Instead, he explained that gods have deep pockets when they visit, so “why not treat my friends?” He’s impossible… and sweet. I warned him—next meal’s on me.
I’m happy to call him my friend.
He’s back with a tray in hand that finds its place between us. Eyes on the food, his grin spreads wide as he sits. “I mean…” He takes a bite of his sandwich and groans. I pretend to be immune to his little noises, unlike when we kissed. I want to hear what he has to say. “Comforting, huh, Théo? You always pick the safe option.”
My left eyebrow spikes so high, it must be close to my hairline. I bet he means the food. Lips curving into a knowing smile, I refrain from emphasizing that stealing a magical golden coin and kissing him might not be labeled as safe choices.
