Page 41 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows
“Anything. I have nothing to hide.”Do I?
He manhandles me as if I weigh nothing, and we face each other. The tips of his fingers graze my side, and mine mimic his. “Your… your cock… Look, I don’t mean to upset you, but I have to ask. Well, it was very… small when we…” He clears his throat. “Well, when we started, and it…” He pauses, looking away for a split second. I don’t interrupt, guessing where this is going.We gaze at each other, processing what’s unfolding—genuine intimacy, no holds barred. “It grew… a lot... A lot,” he repeats, wetting his lips. “I don’t understand how.”
“I noticed you noticed.” My hand cups his jaw. “I should have given you a heads-up. Greek gods aren’t porn stars, Théo. I’m aware modern society associates big, fat cocks with virility. But, you see, for us who have been around forever, being hung like a horse is rather… vulgar. Just like how pale skin used be a status symbol, but nowadays, it’s all about having a tan. Statues of Greek gods show our true nature, but when in action, satisfying our lover is what matters. On instinct, we sense what they… expect, and we aim to please.”
He huffs out a laugh, snatching the back of my head to bring his lips to mine for a tender kiss that contrasts with the intensity of what we shared.
When he pulls away, I whisper my confirmation.
“Mission accomplished.”
Chapter Sixteen
ME AND MY SHADOW
Théo
The café was packed earlier, but the June sun brought a delicious warmth that I enjoyed as much as I could. Most of the patrons have since migrated to the boardwalk.
Right before my belated lunch break, the place quieted down, humming with typical midday sounds: muffled voices, snack orders, and the sharp hiss of steam from the infamous Gandalf punctuating it all. I guess Zagreus isn’t the only one with a flair for cultural references—Sam, our chaos-driven manager, came up with the nickname. Our old, temperamental espresso machine has several, depending on who you ask; most of the staff call it The Roasted or The Brown.
Hence, I’m sitting at a round table next to the large window. I take deep breaths to ground myself while adjusting my earbuds that are playing the latest tunes from Petit Biscuit, an electro-French artist I love.
With that, I’m guaranteed to ignore the ambient café noise as well as the people watching I tend to do whenever I’m facing the street. Instead, I get lost inside my head, enjoying a slice of hummingbird cake and an extra-large cappuccino that Daryl prepared for me. Under the scrutiny of his dark brown eyes, I baked the delicious dessert earlier. Adding plenty of walnuts—at last able to enjoy them without worry—was a perk. Dealing with another accident was a risk I wasn’t willing to take, but what convinced me to endure the long desensitization process a couple of years after the accident had been hearing Noé’s quip about how inconvenient it was for a gay man to fear nuts. As much as the smartass cares about me, he couldn’t resist! The thought brings a smile to my face.
It turns wicked when my mind drifts to memory of my tongue on Zagreus’s nuts as I savor another bite of my nutty treat. I steady myself, willing my growing erection to subside, and focus on my food. A moan escapes from my mouth as I bask in the flavors assaulting my nostrils and taste buds. Oblivious to me, my other coworkers chat nearby.
I’m enjoying the rare lull after the late morning chaos—it’s a welcome pause, though I doubt the managers share my sentiment; empty tables don’t pay the bills. Simon wasn’t lying when he warned me this place could be a madhouse. Then again, I’m new here. Mastering the routines is a work in progress, which might explain why certain details haven’t gelled yet. I thank Zagreus often for nudging me to join the crew; back then, I had no idea he was steering me towards a righteous path. I love this temporary gig. I’m learning a lot while indulging my sweet tooth.
Who would have thought that I’d end up subbing for longer than expected? When I inquired about my replacement, Layla, as wellas Sam and Mateo—the two café supervisors I’m most familiar with—avowed their appreciation for the help provided, and she assured me that a plan was in motion. When I started, it wasn’t high season, so suitable candidates were scarce, leaving me free rein and little to do. So far, they’ve failed to find anyone they’re willing to hire, which I find odd.
Meanwhile, it’s been fun having my lover’s friends—Hecate, Eros, and Nathan—sample my French pastries. Hard to believe that Greek gods weren’t familiar with some of them, even though they’d visited Earth on numerous occasions.
What’s also been fun is sneaking off to the nearest bathroom or storage room during my breaks—or Zagreus’s—to kiss the hell out of each other like hormonal teenagers. Lips swollen, hair messy, skin flushed. Of course, heat flares whenever footsteps threaten to crash these hot, hurried, hungry trysts—danger ignites me, though I can tell he’s danced this game before and sometimes pulls back, less eager for the thrill.
And yes, it happened yesterday—one of my coworkers from the café walked in on us mid-make-out, with my hands all over Zagreus’s perfect butt. I wouldn’t have seen him at all if he hadn’t jolted me from Zag’s embrace with a casual, “Sorry to interrupt.” In turn, I stammered out, “Sorry, Justice, we, um… we were—” but the tatted-covered barista snatched what he needed from the secluded space and bolted.
Stealing kisses from my boyfriend was a luxury I missed out on in my teens, so I’m indulging in it now.
Too bad Eros had to return to his godly duties and left with Zagreus this morning. I didn’t have the opportunity to grill Eros about the riddles he speaks. I wish I had a clearer grasp of his task—this whole bringing soulmates together concept eludesme. It’s overwhelming; my pulse stammers and skips whenever I dwell on it.
First, I didn’t have a clue souls were real. Second, I had no idea Greek gods ruled. And third, I didn’t expect the Prince of the Underworld to move heaven and earth to steer my soul towards redemption.
The odds are stacked against me; I must follow through with the contract I signed. Zagreus’s intervention forced to rethink my approach—how to pull this off solo while staying in line with his agenda and the path he wants me on.
Somehow, we became inseparable almost overnight, exploring Greek mythology with a live specimen, teasing and testing boundaries. Close to someone like this is foreign territory, yet his long-overdue return to the Underworld—a necessary evil to report to Hades, his father and king—leaves me raw. His absence clears the space I need to concentrate. Zagreus, as the artist behindHidden Shadows, shaped the outcome in ways I couldn’t ignore. That’s why we suggested an alternative plan—as a team—but I’ve kept him out of the picture. No distractions. No temptation. No screw-ups. Tonight, the operation is mine.
Why risk jinxing it, right?
Nathan mastered a perfect reproduction ofHidden Shadowsin record time, every line precise.Zagreus’s emotional guidance while crafting it gave him the edge.
After my work’s done tonight, the forged version will serve as my cover in the museum. I won’t risk making headlines about a missing painting and scaring off my client, so the original will return to its rightful owner… or rather to Monaco first, since fulfilling my contract is a prerequisite to escaping payback.That’s where my lover will reveal his trump card and prove just how skilled he is. I hadn’t expected him to enter the equation, but now, I could do without him. I trust this whole heist won’t blow up in our faces.
I’ve mapped the museum inside and out: the electrical system and its backup I’ll disable before closing time, and the main surveillance camera I’ll bend to show an empty room while I work my own brand of magic.
Between the café, the contract, and the chaos of my own desires, I’ve carved a narrow route that keeps me alive long enough to finish this job. With Zagreus gone, I’ll focus. I’ll act. I’ll complete the plan he set in motion—and somehow, survive the night with a semi-stained soul. My favorite god reminded me it will take more effort than the new plan, but this is a start.
I’m not nervous about the theft. That’s not how I roll. My motto is that a well-thought-out strategy ensures a smooth delivery. Confident in my own skills, I embrace the uncertainty that comes with action. But above all, as I told Zagreus, the thrill is unmatched.
