Page 86 of Crown of Olympus
“Come with me for just a moment,” he said, voice low. “I owe you a gift, after all.”
One side of his mouth tilted up into the tiniest of smiles, and in that moment — because of that smile — I would have followed him into Tartarus itself.
Caelus led me onto the patio I’d spotted earlier. He growled at the trio we encountered making out against the balcony, and they fled in half-dressed haste.
I hadn’t even realised I’d laughed until he whipped around and tugged me closer.
“Furies, that sound…” he groaned.
But then disappointment washed over me as I watched him rebuild that mental wall between us — closing his eyes, releasing me, and taking a step back.
Caelus reached into a hidden pocket of his chiton and pulled something silvery out.
“Here.” He opened his palm to reveal a length of chain bearing a glass pendant. “I made this for you.” He cleared his throat, lifting the two ends up so the pendant dangled between them.
I stepped closer, my brows shooting upwards as I caught the movement within the pendant. Inside the glass orb, a tiny bolt of lightning danced. Again and again, it flashed, illuminating Caelus’ hesitant features in staccato bursts of light.
“May I?” he asked, nodding to the chain.
I turned to face the ballroom doors, feeling his static presence press up behind me, almost but not quite touching. He slid the chain around my neck, fastening the clasp with shaking fingers.
“There,” he rasped.
I spun back around as I looked down at the pendant that now rested just above my heart. It was impressive workmanship. I had never seen anything like it before, not even in Hermes’ treasure trove.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathed.
“It is.”
But when I looked up, he was not looking at the pendant. He was looking at me. For just a second, he let me in — let me see a fraction of the torment behind his eyes. But then he glanced past me, and the shutters slammed down.
Aros chose that moment to burst through the double doors. He shot a wink at a furious Caelus, then swept me into his toasty arms and out onto the dancefloor.
The godof war knew how to make an entrance.
Aros’ gaze lingered upon every sliver of exposed skin whenever my shadows shifted, revealing a glimpse of tattooed collarbone or the hint of a scarred upper thigh.
“I thought I was a god of war,” he murmured. “Turns out you’re the one leaving casualties,” he groaned.
“Who me? In this old thing?” I teased, gesturing to my sparkling gown.
“Darling, wars have been waged over lesser dresses than that,” he purred.
Aros quirked a brow as his fingertips grazed my bare side, then settled firmly at my waist. The music conveniently shifted to a sultry, pulsing rhythm and sank its claws deep into my skin.
The urge to move was all-consuming. I needed to shake off all of my unspoken desires and worries, and without giving myself a screaming orgasm in the middle of the packed ballroom, dancing was a good way to do that.
Both my father and Charon had ensured I was as well-trained in the art of dance as I was in swordplay.
And Ilovedit.
“Men are fickle creatures indeed, if they dare to fight over who’s wearing a gown,” I replied, purposefully misunderstanding. “Personally, I think it looks better on me than it would on you, Aros, but you’re welcome to try it on.”
His face split into a grin.
“I would gladly wear your shadows if it meant you’d removed them,” he said, leaning in, only to pause, gaze flickering to something over my shoulder.
“Let the battle begin,” he whispered, breath dancing across my exposed skin, and pulled me into the opening steps of a fast-paced tango. The dance suited him perfectly.
