Chapter XXXV
Demi
“What are you doing back so soon?” Cassie shot up from the couch, eyes wide, as if I’d startled her. “Were you afraid the glamour would wear off?”
I shook my head and threw myself into her arms, sobbing. The sound tore out of me, jagged and unfamiliar. I hadn’t sobbed in years. I hadn’t even known I could.
My chest ached, my throat burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. How could that even be? My heart was supposed to be locked—untouchable, protected. And yet it felt like something inside me had splintered open, like a part of it had clawed its way back to life. Had Roman unlocked a piece of it?
Cassie held me tighter, her voice low and steady. “Demi . . . what happened?”
What had happened? That was a good question.
“Roman,” I stuttered out his name. “He’s trying to be noble.”
“And this is bad?”
“Yes!” I cried. “He’s being such an idiot. He doesn’t want me to touch him, doesn’t want me to tempt him. Worse, he doesn’t even appreciate that I’m humiliating myself on national TV for him. It’s like the ratings don’t even matter to him anymore.”
Cassie guided me to the couch, and we collapsed onto it, my head landing on her shoulder.
“Hmm. Maybe this is good. Look at you—you’re a wreck. In all the years I’ve known you, the most emotion you ever showed at the office was when we gave you a birthday cake and you smiled. People were shocked you had teeth. There was a whole betting pool about it.”
I groaned into her shoulder. “Was I really that bad?”
“Worse,” she said, laughing. “But now it makes sense.”
“I don’t want to go back to being that person. But I fear that’s in my future. Obviously, being around my soulmate has had an effect on me. That and coming to terms with who I really am. But soon that will all be gone because Roman wants to be a good man,” I spat.
Cassie giggled.
“If I even tried to come near him right now, I’m pretty sure he would question my morals. And get this: He’s going to start secretly importing demigods onto the property just to get a read on them to see if they’re my match.” I sniffled. “I feel like I’m a commodity on the black market.”
Cassie raised a brow. “Well, at least you’d be a high-end commodity.”
I groaned. “That’s not funny.”
“It’s a little funny,” she said, smirking.
“I suppose it is considering all he has to do is look in the mirror to find my soulmate. Cassie, what am I going to do? It feels hopeless at this point.”
She thought for a moment.
“Maybe this is him laying it all on the line for you. Like denying his desire for you is such a sacrifice that eventually it will unlock your heart, and then he’ll be able to read you, and the blockhead will figure it out.
So maybe you just keep doing what you’re doing—humiliating yourself—and it will all work out. ”
“That sounds like fun.”
“Doesn’t it?” she teased. “And just so you know, I got Jonas straightened out. There will be no more slipups.”
I forgot about my doom for a moment, eager to see how things had gone with my friends.
“Oh, really? What did he say?”
“Just that he won’t screw up again. Then he started going on and on about how what we really needed to do was find out who tore you and Roman apart and expose the culprit.
Maybe take this person before Zeus and ask him to enact some poetic justice.
Like they should have to go on a quest. Then he started going off on my mom and how she should have done more for the women persecuted during the European witch hunts, considering how many of those women worshipped her.
So, I had to rip him a new one and let him know that the gods actually did save most of those women, but we couldn’t very well broadcast that or we’d risk exposing our world.
Needless to say, Jonas isn’t my favorite person. ”
Cassie wrinkled her nose.
That was unfortunate. I probably wouldn’t get my happy ending, but after everything Jonas and Cassie had done for me, they deserved theirs. They belonged together. I’d just have to figure out how to make that happen.
“He grows on you. I promise.”
“I’m not judging you for dating him. He’s hot and broody, and he hates that he’s a demigod almost as much as you used to. But you have to admit—there’s something a little off about him.”
I grinned.
“There’s something a little off about all of us. Greek and Roman gods aren’t exactly the poster children for emotional stability.”
“This is true,” Cassie agreed. “Regardless, Jonas won’t be accidentally throwing you under the bus again.”
“At this rate, I think I’ll have to throw myself under there.”
“Well, just make sure you don’t get run over. Your face is too pretty, and honestly, I’d miss you. So promise me you’ll do whatever it takes to finish this quest.”
“I’d miss you too,” I said, my voice pitching unnaturally. “So much.” I sucked in a dramatic breath, like I was gearing up for battle. “Okay. I can do this. Right?”
Cassie patted my head like I was a good little puppy.
“You’ve got this. Now let’s make a plan to get Roman to finish the job.”
And, oh, what a plan it was.
It started the next day on my date with Jonas. Yes, they made me go on one even though it was clear we had no future together. Ratings.
We were horseback riding along one of the property’s trails, a camera crew trailing us like annoying shadows. The silence between us was intentional. Kind of hard to pivot from “I never want to see you again” to “So, what’s your favorite color?”
Besides, silence added tension. Or at least I hoped it did.
I was winging it.
So I focused on the scenery. The place was stunningly beautiful.
The trees looked greener here, the grass richer, like someone had dialed up the saturation.
Even the sky seemed bluer, stretched wide above the jagged peaks of the Tetons.
They didn’t just look majestic—they looked like they belonged to another realm entirely.
“Demi,” Jonas said, clearing his throat, voice low and contrite.
I didn’t respond, playing my part. Just kept sauntering along on Ginny, my chestnut mare, letting the silence stretch.
“Demi, I feel like I owe you an apology,” Jonas said, trying again.
He had no idea how much I appreciated him making a fool of himself. Especially because this kind of thing was so beneath him.
I’d broken his heart, and yet here he was—showing up for me in a big, messy, public way.
I turned toward him casually.
The cowboy hat was laughably wrong on him, but Marcie had insisted we “look the part.” Jonas was gorgeous, sure, but he was no cowboy. He was chaos wrapped in tailored clothes. Broody but weirdly chill. An enigma of contradictions.
I figured that came from constantly being at war with who he really was. I understood that more than anyone.
Jonas pulled back on the reins of his palomino. I halted Ginny too.
“What do you have to be sorry for?” I asked, letting my voice go low and mysterious.
He exhaled. “Because I know we agreed to never see each other again after that fateful night.”
FYI: There was no fateful night. This was all for show. I could hear the online commentary now and busy fingers trying to dig up our past. Good luck with that.
“A night we agreed never to bring up again,” he added quickly. “And we won’t. But I think I might’ve given some people here the impression that our breakup was your fault. That was never my intention.”
I shrugged, pretending it didn’t bother me.
“People believe what they want. You don’t owe me anything.”
“But I do,” Jonas said, voice tinged with desperation. He was such a good actor. Hosting his own show probably helped. Not that anyone here knew that’s what he did—on this show, he’d been introduced as a researcher for a private European university.
“Really, Jonas, it’s fine. After everything, I think we should just give each other some grace and move on.”
“But I can’t move on. Not from you.”
That one hit harder than I’d expected. We hadn’t rehearsed this part. Oh, Titans, I hoped he didn’t mean it.
Then he said, “I’d like to sing you a song.”
“What?” I barked out a laugh. “You don’t sing.”
Seriously, where was this coming from? This was not part of the plan.
The cameras zoomed in. I felt like I’d slipped into an alternate reality.
“A man must have some secrets, love,” he said, with that maddening British calm.
“Um . . . all right.”
I was officially afraid. Had Cassie hexed him? She’d been annoyed with Jonas, sure—but this felt extreme, even for her.
Jonas flashed me a wicked grin and pulled a folded piece of paper from inside his vest.
What was he up to?
“You wrote a song?” I stuttered, blinking.
When did he have time to write a song?
“Let’s just say I had a wee bit of help from Cupid.” He winked.
That wink said everything. This song was from Roman.
Jonas had a lot of nerve to ask Roman for a song, especially knowing how Roman felt about me.
I knew Cupids were gifted with sonnets and poetry—it was practically in their DNA. But why would Roman do this for Jonas?
Of course I knew why. He was still clinging to the delusion that Jonas might be my soulmate.
All Roman had to do was touch Jonas—or Cassie, for that matter—and he’d know the truth. But between Cassie’s spite and Jonas’s deep distrust, that wasn’t going to happen, and he was going to remain clueless.
Roman was such an idiot. A wonderful, maddening, noble idiot. But an idiot all the same.
“Cupid?” I giggled, reminding myself I was supposed to be playing a part—for a mortal TV show, no less.
“Yes, Cupid, darling. So try not to swoon too hard. I’d hate for you to take a nasty tumble off your horse.”
I gave Jonas my full attention, knowing exactly where this song had actually come from. Roman’s heart.
“I’ll do my best.”
“Very well.” Jonas cleared his throat.
And that’s when I remembered—Jonas had a terrible singing voice.
I’d heard him sing along to the car radio before, and it was so painfully off-key it was almost charming.
Not that I’d ever mentioned that to him.
I’d just been grateful he felt comfortable around me, especially considering I was practically dead inside when we dated.
“Here it goes,” Jonas crooned in his usual sexy timbre. Too bad that didn’t carry over into his singing voice.
“The title is ‘Demi Divine.’”
I pressed my lips together. That was . . . a lot.
But Cupids were known for their cheese. Sure, they’d penned some of the greatest works in history, but they’d also churned out some truly corny stuff.
Case in point: “My Heart Will Go On.”
Yep, that was a Cupid.
And the reason Titanic became a global sobfest.
It felt like the entire crew was holding its breath, waiting for this masterpiece—or train wreck—to unfold.
Jonas closed his eyes and screwed up his face as if he were bracing for humiliation. No doubt he was absolutely loath to do what he was about to do. Which only made me even more grateful for him.
He opened his eyes, squinted at the paper, and began.
“She’s like a whisper wrapped in fire and ice,” he warbled, painfully off-key. “But neither can contain her or suffice. For there are no mortal words to define . . . the beauty and the majesty of Demi Divine.”
He screeched the last line like a banshee in a wind tunnel.
Half the camera crew visibly winced.
But none of that mattered. Because even through the vocal carnage, I could hear Roman in the words.
Especially in the line:
If fate won’t let me call you mine, I’ll still be haunted by you, Demi Divine.
He wouldn’t be the only one haunted if this didn’t work out.
Unless, of course, I was made to forget he ever existed.
But even then, I had a feeling my soul would always know it was missing something—someone. Him.
Jonas howled out the last line: “I’ve seen the stars, I’ve heard the sea. But nothing has ever awed me like Demi Divine.”
When he finished, I could see the crew holding back applause, just grateful it was over.
But I sat on my horse, tears streaming down my cheeks.
Jonas grinned. “So, what did you think?”
“It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”
I knew the audience would take that the wrong way. Maybe even Roman would.
But I needed him to know—cheesy or not, I adored it. And it meant everything that he’d given it to another man, just in case it could save me from a fate I didn’t even want to name.
If only he knew that it made me want him more.
“I’ll take this as a positive step forward for us, darling.”
Jonas snapped the reins of his horse and trotted off like he’d just won something.
I followed, knowing this was going to be ratings gold.
But . . . would all this pretending win me the real thing?