Chapter 11
Dionysus
When Dionysus arrived home, he checked on Acamus.
The toddler was sleeping sideways in his bed, uncovered, hands curled close to his chest. Dionysus kissed his hair and tucked him in before heading down the hallway to his room.
He expected Ariadne to be asleep, but when he opened the door, he found her sitting up in bed.
“I thought you were just taking a call,” she said.
He closed the door with a quiet click.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“We waited for you. I tried to call you. We were all worried.”
Guilt tore at his chest. He felt worse than ever.
“I’m—”
“Just tell me what you were doing,” she said. “And why you lied.”
“I didn’t lie,” he said. Well, he had lied, but he had good intentions. The best. Still, he didn’t want her to know the truth. Not yet. “I did take a call,” he explained. “And then I ran into Hades.”
“You ran into Hades?” she repeated, her eyes dark with suspicion.
“I was surprised too,” he said. “Apparently, the Kallikantzaroi stole the screws he needed for the twins’ crib. He was buying replacements.”
“He has magic,” Ariadne said. He could tell she felt like she was poking holes in his story, and he wondered if it was fair to be pissed at the God of the Dead for literally making choices against his very nature on a night when he needed a good fucking excuse.
“Trust me, I know,” he said. “Persephone’s insisting on doing everything by hand to prepare for the babies.”
“That won’t last long once they’re here,” she mused, and Dionysus’s anxiety eased a little.
“No,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. He brushed his fingers over Ariadne’s cheek.
“Why are you up?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I was waiting for you.”
He dropped his hand. “I really am so sorry, Ariadne. I—”
“So you ran into Hades and then what?” she asked. “It’s four in the morning.”
He should have known she wasn’t going to let him out of an explanation that easily.
“We tried to capture a Kallikantzaros and got trapped instead,” he said. “If you don’t believe me, ask Hades. No, wait. Don’t ask him. He’ll probably lie to maintain his dignity. Ask Hecate. She rescued us.”
“Hecate…rescued you?”
“We were stuck under Hephaestus’s net,” he explained and then sighed. “Look…I feel terrible. I had every intention of making this a magical night. I wanted us to be a family and do…family things, and I ruined it.”
“Dionysus,” Ariadne said, leaning forward, one hand on his knee. “We are a family whether we do family things or not.”
He lifted his gaze to hers. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said. “Though it is nice. To have someone who worries over me.”
“Yeah,” she said. “It really is.”
He leaned in to kiss her and she met him halfway, wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him to her as her back met the bed.
He let his fingers comb through her hair, fingertips pressing into her scalp, tongue diving into her mouth. She tasted sweet, like she’d just eaten chocolate which was probably true. She kept a stash in the nightstand drawer.
As he kissed her, he managed to pry his shoes off one by one and then he shifted over her, knees on either side of her body.
Her hands crept beneath his jacket, and he paused to take it off.
“The shirt too,” she ordered.
Dionysus grinned as he pulled it over his head. “Any other requests before we continue?”
She shook her head, arms slipping around him again as he stretched over her.
“Just fuck me like you mean it,” she said.
“I always mean it,” he said.
“I’m not fragile, Dionysus,” she said. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
He studied her for a moment, feeling his chest tighten. She lifted her head, lips brushing his as she whispered, “Give me your madness.”
How was it possible to feel tethered and untethered? But that was how she made him feel, grounded and yet completely unhinged. Which was why this felt safe.
His mouth collided with hers as he fisted her shirt, tearing it in two, exposing her prefect breasts. He lapped at each with his tongue, biting them gently as he sucked her skin into his mouth.
She writhed beneath him, hips arcing into his. His cock throbbed, desperate to sink into her heat.
He sat back and pulled off her shorts. Hooking his hands under her ass, he dragged her to his mouth, devouring her cunt, eyes locked on her face as hers rolled back, mouth parting with each pleasurable moan.
“Yes,” she panted, gripping his braids. “Please, please, please.”
She ran out of air, breath escaping in a single, guttural moan as she came against his mouth, body convulsing, legs shaking.
He released her when she relaxed and then flipped her on her stomach. Dragging her hips to him, he ran his teeth over her perfect ass as he unbuttoned his trousers and pulled out his dick.
He kissed up her spine, bracing his arms on either side of her, cock slipping between her legs. He fisted her hair and kissed her jaw, whispering gruffly in her ear.
“I fucking love you,” he said.
Her answer was a breathless shudder as he rocked back on his heels. He reached between her legs, fingers teasing her dripping cunt.
Fuck, she was hot.
He gripped his cock and slammed inside her. She gasped, head turned to look at him as he thrust into her again and again.
“Fuck,” he breathed. “Fuck.”
He reached for her hair and held her tight before his arm banded around her waist and he pulled her upright, one hand squeezing her breasts, the other rubbing her clit.
When he slipped out, he took the opportunity to shove his pants off. He stayed on his knees, and she turned to face him. He pulled her close, grinding her wet heat over his swollen dick. She clung to him, eyes dreamy, fingers tracing the curve of his lips.
“Would you ever marry me?” she asked her voice a heady whisper.
His eyes widened, her question breaking through the haze of arousal. “What?”
She swallowed hard. “I’m not saying we have to get married now,” she said. “I was just wondering if you’d thought about it. About…marriage.”
“No,” he said.
“No?” she repeated, brows lowering, eyes clouded with confusion.
Fuck.
“No,” he said again, pausing as he scrambling to find the words he really wanted to say. “Fuck. That’s not what I meant.”
But her hold on him had already lessened and he felt like he was losing her.
“What did you mean?” she asked. There was an edge to her tone that betrayed her hurt, though she tried to sound stern.
He held her as tight as he could.
“Gods, I fucked this up,” he said, pausing to take a breath. “I have thought about marriage. I want to marry you. I bought you a ring. Naia helped me pick it out. Then I lost it. That’s what I was doing tonight, trying to find it. Then I got stuck in that stupid trap and…”
She cut him off with a kiss and then pulled back. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said and kissed him again, longer this time, easing his panic.
“I’m sorry about the ring,” he said, breathless from her love.
“All I care about is that you want me enough to ask,” she said.
He shook his head, his laugh low and soft.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He was just thinking about how all of this might have been easier if he’d just listened to Naia and Hades, though he wasn’t about to admit that aloud. “You are just so fucking brilliant. I feel lucky to call you mine.”
He rolled so that she was beneath him and nudged her legs apart, sinking deep inside her.
She felt good. She felt the same and different. She felt like his fiancée.
Monastiraki Square was packed with gods and mortals. Dionysus’s gaze swept the crowd, then he checked his watch. It was nearing eight o’clock sharp when the tree lighting ceremony was scheduled to begin, and he was missing two members of his choir, Medusa and Janet.
He had yet to spot them, but his gaze snagged on Ariadne and Acamus who stood at the very front of the crowd. He was glad to see they had made it on time. She’d sent him a message earlier informing him they might be late due to an increase in robbery complaints.
Hopefully Hephaestus’s newly installed traps would prevent more theft and destruction.
Dionysus crossed the short distance and gave Ariadne a lingering kiss, then mussed Acamus’s hair.
“Hey, little dove,” he said. “Did you have a good day?”
“No,” he said.
Ariadne sighed. “I think he’s regressed. It’s the only answer he’s given all day.”
“We’ll see how long it lasts when he says no to pancakes and doesn’t get them.”
“Pancakes!” he repeated.
“Yes?” Dionysus said.
“No!” he said.
“Well.” Dionysus shrugged.
“You tried,” said Ariadne.
Dionysus looked around again.
“What’s wrong?”
“Just worried about Medusa,” he said. “She hasn’t arrived yet and we have”—he paused to check his watch again— “five minutes until the show.”
Ariadne frowned. “I can try calling her.”
“You can, but you know she never has her phone,” he said.
Just then the crowd gasped and began to clap. Dionysus knew they were reacting to Hades and Persephone’s arrival. He turned to look at where they had manifested, near the tree which they would light during the final choir performance.
The Goddess of Spring wore a burgundy dress, a dark green ribbon was tied around her waist, the bow resting atop her round belly. Hades wore a matching suit which surprised Dionysus, who had rarely seen the god in color, save for blood sprayed across his face.
A second later, Hecate also appeared and then Hermes who was dressed in a green tunic, red and green striped shorts, and red shoes that curled at the end.
“Merry Christmas!” he called, wings spread wide. “Jaw bones for everyone!”
He reached into a giant bag and tossed them into the crowd. Their cheers turned into expressions of disgust as they realized what he was throwing at them. Hermes straightened, hands on his hips. “The least you could do is appreciate my effort. I dug these up!”
“For fuck’s sake,” Dionysus muttered. This really was complete chaos.
“Dionysus!”
He turned to see Medusa pushing through the crowd, and a wave of relief shuddered through him.
“Medusa, thank the Fates,” he said as she approached. “I was worried.”
Her brows rose, surprised. “You were?”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “I always worry about you.”
Her cheeks reddened. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I thought about what you said. I went to Janet’s house to apologize and convinced her to come tonight.”
Dionysus’s eyes shifted to see Janet lingering behind the gorgon.
“I’m proud of you,” said Dionysus. “Though I have questions about how exactly you found her house.”
“Oh, that’s easy,” she said. “I followed her home.”
Dionysus rubbed his forehead. “Medusa. We don’t do that.”
“You told me to apologize,” she argued.
He sighed. “We’ll talk about this later. Take your places.”
“Go get ’em, Tiger,” Ariadne said.
He rolled his eyes. She’d started calling him that as a joke since it was one of his main animal forms. He wasn’t sure he liked it yet, but it sounded better than the alternatives which included jaguar, lion, bull, and serpent.
Dionysus approached his choir, assembled to the left of the towering tree.
It was probably the largest pine he had ever seen thanks to Hephaestus who had taken Aphrodite’s need for “the most perfect Christmas tree” to heart and used his knowledge of genetics and genomes to create several seeds.
They were planted in an orchard on the fringes of New Athens and every year they held a tree cutting ceremony.
It was tradition, and for the briefest moment, Dionysus considered that if this was their present, then the future was, indeed, bright.
A tapping sound from the conductor, whose orchestra was set up on the other side of the tree, signaled the start of the program.
There was silence as the music began with the soft chime of bells, swelling to include the rest of the orchestra.
At its peak, the choir joined. They moved through song after song, the transition between each filled with applause.
To Dionysus’s relief, Janet kept her tone low, the choir’s combined voices melodic and unified.
As they neared the finale, he noticed Medusa’s attention had turned to the tree, eyes narrowed. Dionysus followed her gaze and observed a few branches moving.
What the fuck…?
He returned his attention to the choir just as they reached the climax, ending on a final, powerful note.
It was at that moment, Persephone flipped the switch Hades was holding.
The lights on the tree flickered and then burned steadily, so bright, even Dionysus struggled to look, except that he had to because as soon as the tree illuminated in its full, stunning glory, it also started to smoke, and there were high-pitched screams coming from inside.
Suddenly, hundreds of Kallikantzaroi scrambled from the branches, burned from the light, turning to ash before they even hit the ground. As they fled, other items fell with them—cookies and candy, silver and gold bells, round baubles, screwdrivers and hammers, knives, even reels of tape.
“Hey!” a mortal exclaimed. “Those are my socks!”
“Those are my grandmother’s antique spoons!”
“That’s my wig!”
The crowds’ voices rose as they discovered where all their stolen goods had gone, but those faded in the background when Dionysus spotted a familiar black box.
He swiped it from the ground and then approached Ariadne, lowering to one knee.
“Ariadne—”
“Yes,” she said before he could finish, a wide smile plastered on her face.
Dionysus laughed and rose to his feet to kiss her.
The crowd around them cheered, and as he pulled away, he took the ring and slipped it onto her finger.
“You are every wish I’ve ever had come true and more,” he said.
“Merry Christmas, Dionysus,” she said.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, kissing her again.
“No!” Acamus yelled.
They laughed, and for once in Dionysus’s life, he felt like everything was perfect.