Ink of Copper

23. In Which an Understanding is Reached

Chapter 23

In Which an Understanding is Reached

Back on the Epic of the Seas, in the middle of the Atlantic

E llie moved about her room hurriedly for no particular reason. Evander had been so severe when he left, it made her anxious. He was coming back to protect her. Protect her and sleep . . . here. She had been standing at the foot of her bed for several minutes, contemplating where he’d sleep. Allow him in her bed? Back on the floor? He’d need a place to rest if he resigned himself to being her guardian. And so she stood, eyeing the offending mattress. As an extra measure, she’d called the porter for blankets. She paced. Pausing mid-step, a half-smile crawled across her face.

Forced proximity.

That curious slight tingle from before raced down her spine at the realization. Although it might be her favorite in a book, she wasn’t finding it as conducive to real life. For starters, flying monkeys from hell probably weren’t after the heroine.

Well, Tartarus, so Greek hell.

Nor was the heroine desperately clinging to control her hidden magical powers. Finding the sapphire pendant easily, she ran it through the chain, lost in thought. There would be no soft touches or shared pining looks between herself and the tall, ridiculously annoying Evander. Controlling. Stubborn. Magical-sword-hiding Evander.

Ellie glanced at her bed and gulped. They certainly weren’t in a book; she barely knew him. Straightening a corner, she scolded her stupid heart for beating a wild rhythm in her chest. He had already been in her room for hours, caring for and mending her. Granted, she was unconscious. But it didn’t seem creepy, which annoyed her even more. Turning too quickly, she bumped into a corner of a drawer left open, hitting on her healing injury. Ellie yelped, tears springing to her eyes as she touched the raised scab. The claws had left angry red marks along her creamy skin. She wondered briefly if they’d scar, as searing pain momentarily overshadowed the nervousness of spending time alone with Evander. This was definitely not how it was in books.

The way he had looked at her when she emerged from the bathroom, that muscle in his jaw bouncing unchecked, made her feel self-conscious. Glancing down, she wondered if she should find one of her robes and cover herself. Maybe she had embarrassed him? Penn’s words echoed in her mind, telling her she needed to cover her body. Hide herself.

Damn it !

When would she finally get rid of Penn and his damn voice in her head? Tossing her chin up high, Ellie decided she would be comfortable in her own room, in her own bed, and if His Highness had an issue with it, he could sleep on the floor like a dog.

Not for the first time since she boarded did Ellie wish she had paid for the cell package. She needed to talk to Reese. She needed someone who understood her hang-ups to listen. To tell her that she was just nervous. She knew what her friend would say. Reese would squeal and tell her to go get her some dick. Just so long as that dick wasn’t Penn. After six years of no sex, the idea of a man in close quarters filled Ellie with nervous energy. And there had been something between them on the mini golf course. His arms wrapped around her, his bare chest under her fingers, was a memory that kept flooding back at the most inopportune times. His age didn’t help her damn insecurities. The man was too young for her to be feeling like she was.

Then there were Penn’s incessant words: didn’t try hard enough, let yourself go, an embarrassment . She hated that she still heard his voice. A year of therapy hadn’t erased the years of constant degradation, and it darkened her mood. The only reason she was in this predicament was because creatures were after her. Sure, Evander was handsome. If Ellie let herself admit it, he was fucking hot. But that mattered little. He could have anyone on the ship. Surely, someone younger was more to his liking. She wasn’t the one he wanted; he felt responsible.

She’d been hurt; nothing more, nothing less. Ellie was nervous and breathless at the possibility of nothing. The excitement of the last few minutes dissipated like someone letting the air out of a balloon. Deciding all of this was silly, she rearranged her hair in a clip, little curls wildly escaping, ringing her head like a fiery crown, and made room for his belongings.

By the time Evander knocked on her door, Ellie had talked herself down off the hopeful-sex ledge. She’d put on a t-shirt over her tank top. Much more sensible. But as soon as she opened that door and saw him standing there, case and bag in hand, everything sensible she’d told herself jumped out the window.

“I only knocked twice,” he said, furrowing his brow.

“And I can see out of the peephole.” Tapping the small glass window, she moved to let him in. “Do you think you’re moving in here?” He shot a look over his shoulder at her, his furrowed brow creasing his forehead. “The two bags.”

“Yes, that. One is my overnight bag, and the other is the case for my arm.”

“Oh, right.” She nodded. How she kept forgetting he was missing an appendage was beyond understanding. Annoyed at herself for a myriad of reasons, she pointed to the desk. “You can put your stuff here.”

Somehow, the room seemed to shrink when he entered, and she fought the urge to shove him back into the hallway. Grumbling, Ellie flopped into her vanity chair and turned her back on him, pretending she needed to inspect her face.

Placing his bag on the counter where she pointed and his case at the foot of the bed, he glanced around the room. Ellie watched his reflection.

“I think this is for the best,” he mumbled.

She didn’t answer, chiding herself for her foolishness. They stared at each other in the mirror until a knock at the door startled them both. Jumping up, she tore open the door without looking. A towering stack of blankets and towels greeted her, obscuring the person carrying it from view. Not that she would have been able to see anyway.

“Extra, for you,” came a harsh, raspy hiss.

Grabbing towels and blankets, she thanked them without looking. Passing by Evander, who was still scowling at her, she dumped the linens on the bed.

“For you,” she snapped and yanked open the sliding glass door to her balcony, leaving Evander and his scowl alone in the room.

The endless ocean stretched before her just beyond the railing, calling her with its salty air and unyielding waves. A solid minute passed as Ellie regained her composure before the man and his scowl opened the sliding glass door.

“I know this is an untenable situation for both of us,” he began.

Ellie glanced over her shoulder, shrugging one side. “I’m just in some kinda way.”

“Some kind of way?”

“In a tizzy,” she lied.

What was she supposed to do? Admit that she had dove headfirst off a cliff of emotions and, like Icarus, her wings were made of paper and wax, and she crashed onto the rocks of real life below? All in the span of a few minutes. Which was impressive even for her and her propensity to jump to conclusions. As she faced him, she had to clutch the railings to keep her legs from giving out.

The man had the audacity to lean.

On the doorframe.

He stood silhouetted by the light pouring out from the cabin. One arm braced itself against the jam, the other hand in his pocket. His dress shirt was open at the collar, sleeves rolled up, and those tailored trousers fit him just right. How many times had she read this exact pose in a book and never understood it? Displayed in perfect form before her, she got it now. He looked good enough to eat.

Or eat her .

It’d been a long time since she felt the weight of a man. Too fucking long .

Ellie eyed the balcony wall and briefly imagined him shoving her up against it. His gaze traveled over her, leaving tiny fires on her skin in their wake. Fires she needed to put out. Or blaze forth. Either way, she could all but feel the soft caresses of his fingers dancing along, burning her, turning her to ash. Just as he was about to open his mouth, their dinner interrupted him. The spell broken; he dashed inside.

When he returned with a tray, she had rearranged the balcony to accommodate their meal. He set the tray between them, arranging their plates, and then motioned towards her wine glass, questioning. She nodded and snapped open her napkin, laying it across her thighs. Awkward silence hummed around them as the ship’s engines hummed under them, propelling them forward. Ellie was halfway through her salad when he broke the silence.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re angry.”

Ellie chewed slowly. “I’m not happy. I have a babysitter against my will,” she said, stabbing a forkful of salad. “Why won’t you be honest with me?” Her accusing glare pinned him to his seat. “I can’t act like I saw nothing. Or ignore the fact I will probably have a scar on my leg. Or that right now, all I can think about is where the hell you are keeping those swords. I don’t see them; they don’t clang around, but if someone were to burst in here, those things would appear.” Her face flushed as she spoke. “You not telling me anything is pissing me off, frankly.”

The silverware clanged as she roughly set it on the tray and leaned back in her seat. He’d been watching her as she spoke, his face softening.

“I’m sorry.” He opened his mouth to say more, then promptly closed it. He repeated this motion twice more. Watching him open and close his lips fascinated Ellie.

“They’re daemons,” he said, rubbing a hand down his face in defeat. “The creatures that attacked us were daemons.”

“Yes, I know. You already told me.”

“From Tartarus. And I am aware that you know.”

Ellie opened her mouth to interrupt but closed it.

“I’m uncertain why they called you the Serathena, and why they are after you. There is a lot about you that doesn’t make sense. This entire situation, for starters. But I can’t leave you to fend them off yourself. Not in good conscience. I understand it makes you angry, but please believe me when I tell you I am only here for your protection.”

“What are you, Evander?”

“A stupid, stupid man,” he said jokingly. Her annoyance melted some when that dimple appeared on his cheek. “I have orders, but I’ll now see you safely to Athens. All the rest is . . .” He gestured haphazardly in the air.

“Above your pay grade?”

“In a matter of speaking, yes.”

“And that’s all I’m gonna get from you?” She waved her hand at him. “Nothing else? Nothing about magical swords?”

His hand ran through his hair, and he let out a long sigh. “You won’t like this answer, but I can’t expand any further for your protection. I want you to trust me.”

Ellie snorted derisively. “Penn used to say things like that to me, leaving me in the dark. My ex made me feel crazy. He’d tell me one thing and then deny it and tell me something else. How do you trust a person like that?”

“They aren’t magical.” His words were barely audible. “They were my father’s before they became mine.”

“But they disappear.”

He nodded. Ellie watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed deeply. “I have powers that allow me to conceal . . . things.” He eyed her, judging whether he should continue or not. “Before you ask, no, I didn’t meet some fairy in the woods and make three wishes.”

He was watching her closely. But Ellie didn’t react. How could she? She did things no one understood, producing winds and fire when she became angry or stressed. Hiding things in plain sight. She’d never had control over it; it controlled her most of the time. Her powers were a hindrance, something that raged unchecked and damaged property, causing her parents so much grief. And forced Penn to create a room to contain her chaos. Couple that with her strange blood, and Ellie understood why Evander hesitated to tell her anything. She wasn’t ready to come clean herself. She didn’t like this, but she understood, at least partly.

“It’s a genie.”

“Pardon?”

“A genie. A genie grants wishes, not a fairy.”

“My point is my ability was given to me.”

Ellie sipped her wine, mulling over his confession. If he concealed things and she had powers herself, did that mean there were more like her? There had to be more he wasn’t telling her, but she wouldn’t get her answers tonight. Exhaustion weighed heavily. Tomorrow, she would worry about it, but tonight she needed rest. Gathering the tray, she returned to the cabin, and placed it outside for the porter to grab. A hissing sound came from behind her, low and sharp like air sucked through someone’s teeth. As she turned, she found Evander had followed her into the room. He rested against the counter, arms crossed, his face unreadable, eyes hooded. The cool gaze that raked over her warmed her blood and sent heat licking through her.

“You can take a shower if you’d like,” she offered, her voice shaking.

“No.” His gaze was intense until he cleared his throat. “I might take one in the morning unless you need to.” He glanced at the floor and then snapped back up. “Now, would you like me to sleep on the floor? Or in bed with you?”

Her world tilted on its axis. The one bed might work in books, but the truth of it was much more intimidating. Because she was in a room by herself, her bed was small, just a little larger than a twin size. Both of them crammed intimately onto the mattress had her flushing hot. She suddenly remembered something the porter had told her upon arriving at her cabin.

“No,” she croaked. “There’s a bed in here.”

Crossing to the wall at the head, she opened a latch to pull down a Murphy bed the same size as hers. They snapped together with a satisfying click. She watched him eye the now-larger bed and then her.

“We are both grown adults,” she said breathlessly. “We each get our own beds. I had the porter bring up extra blankets for you, so you wouldn’t need to share mine.”

Handing him the blanket, she tried to act nonchalant, but her blood was liquid lava in her veins. Berating herself for the umpteenth time, Ellie yanked the covers down. Evander stood on the opposite side, looking strange and foreign, but somehow fitting. It had been years since a man had been in her bedroom. Penn moved to the guest room somewhere around year eight of their marriage and by year twelve, he had moved out. Sex wasn’t something they did unless one, or both were drunk or desperate and even then, he was cruel. She didn’t know what to do with this man before her. Evander was watching her every move, and it made her heart pound. He roughly grabbed his bag in his large hand and shut the door to the bathroom behind him.

Ellie busied herself to keep her hands from shaking. She poured them both a glass of water for the night and set them on each nightstand. Slathering face cream on, paying particular attention to the bags under her eyes, she removed the t-shirt and crawled into bed, pulling the covers under her arms. The rest of the cabin was dark except for her bedside lamp. Picking her book from the nightstand, she cracked the spine and willed her heart to stop racing.

It took three tries for Evander to zip his duffle bag. He was in her bathroom in sweatpants, struggling with a damn zipper.

Real smooth, Casanova.

When he walked into the cabin earlier, her mood was tense, and he realized how absurd this plan was. Of course she was angry. And confused. They spend a few days together, daemons attack her, and now he’s in her room. He came so close to telling her the entire truth tonight at dinner. He was desperate for her to trust him, but he didn’t understand why. She shouldn’t. He was nothing to her. But he realized he wanted to be.

Catching sight of her bent over, had his primitive warrior side clawing to be set free. He fought the urge to walk the length of her room and run his hand over her delectable ass. Zeus! Seeing her in tank top and shorts sent heat coursing through him, melting his resolve and intensifying his desire for what he knew was unattainable. His mind flashed to her in different scenarios that were most decidedly improper. The idea of sleeping beside her, so close but so far, heated his blood. If he was going to survive the night and not combust, he needed to think with something other than his dick.

She was already in bed when he stepped back into the cabin, and the sight caused him to trip over his damn feet. Nothing but covers and the little straps from her pajama top that had his fingertips tingling from the notion of slipping one underneath, letting it fall off her shoulder. Those pewter-gray eyes, big and beautiful, watched every move he made around the room. He caught her raking her gaze over him. A flush crawled up her neck, sending pink blooming to her cheeks.

Fuck, Zeus!

He had never slept with a shirt and hadn’t thought he needed one until now. She stared at him. Her lips parted. Pretending he needed to check the balcony door, he put on a show of locking the locks. He had already used his magic to seal the room. As long as he was in the cabin, those little bastards couldn’t surprise them. Moving to his side, he placed the case on the floor, and noticed a glass of water sitting on the nightstand. Condensation on the glass running down the side in small streaks.

“Did you pour this for me?”

Ellie nodded quickly. “Yes, I thought you might get thirsty, and I figured, you know, water.” With an indifferent gesture, her finger toyed with the pages of her book.

She’s nervous?

The thought hit him like a bolt from Zeus. He took a small sip of the water absentmindedly and reached for the leather strap that wrapped around his chest, holding his arm in place. One buckle and two straps later, he released his arm from his shoulder and laid the prosthetic on the floor in its case. A little sigh escaped his lips.

“Does it hurt?” she asked, timid mixed with concern.

Evander found it charming that she asked questions and then got embarrassed. In his experience, human women tended to either ignore his disability altogether or focus on it so much that it made him uncomfortable. But Ellie showed genuine concern, something few did.

“Tonight, yes.” He rubbed his stump. “Just overuse and sleeping on this strange woman’s floor.” He smirked at her and took another sip of water.

“Your tattoo is different.”

Her statement had him choking on the water. Several droplets fell from the glass and onto his chest. Her intense gaze traveled the same path down as the droplets.

“Yes.”

“Are y’all in a frat of some sort?”

Evander made an indelicate sound. “A fraternity? No.” Then, thinking better of it, he cocked his head and frowned. “I guess, in a way. But not in a way that you mean.”

Twisting her lips, Ellie scowled. “That’s not vague at all. Why the E?”

“It’s the Greek letter Epsilon.”

She gave him a no shit look, and he chuckled. “Because I’m part of an elite group in our so-called fraternity.”

She accepted that answer, which surprised him, since she had accepted none of his other explanations. Climbing into his bed, he tucked the covers. The lamp overhead was at an odd angle, given his disadvantage, and after several tries to turn it out, he proceeded to swing back out of bed when Ellie moved—reaching over him, her face hovered mere centimeters from his. Shifting up brought her breasts perilously close to his mouth. Her tank top dipped as she moved, and the rise of the tops of those mounds beckoned him. The light out, her face leveled with his, and her gaze flicked to his mouth. His tongue darted out, licking suddenly dry lips. Her stare followed his tongue and then snapped up, meeting his eyes for a moment. The blood in his veins was liquid fire, burning him. Just as quickly as she was on top of him, she was off and rolling over to her side. Turning out hers, she plunged them both into darkness. The mattress sank as she settled onto her side. The sound of her sliding her book onto the nightstand sent a shiver through him.

“Sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse in the inky blackness. “I don’t like keeping things from you,” he admitted to the dark. “You have a right to know. I just can’t give you the answers you want.”

She moved again, and he realized she was on her side, facing away. Cradling a hand behind his head, Evander willed sleep to come. The heat from her body was maddening. That scent of hers, citrus with a hint of wood smoke, permeated the air. He wouldn’t sleep lying this close, dying to touch her. He would go mad; he was sure of it.

“I understand, Evander,” she said, her back to him. Ellie rolled over. “Can I ask you a personal question? If that’s alright. I don’t want to pry or anything, and it’s completely your business, but I’m curious.”

“How did I lose my arm?”

A forceful breath escaped through her nose. “Yes. How did you know?”

He smiled in the darkness, breathing in the sweet scent of her. Everyone was always curious about how he lost his arm. It usually came up eventually, but Ellie had been different. They had been around each other for almost a week, and this was the first time she asked. It was endearing. She accepted him as he was before she asked how he became that way.

“I was a child,” he began. “Nine or so. The lads and I used to pretend to be Robin Hood and his merry band of thieves. We played in the woods around my home. It was good fun for us boys. My father gave me a wooden sword he carved, and I used to wear a leather strap around my waist to sheath it.

“One afternoon, I ventured to play alone in an unfamiliar part of the woods, fighting highwaymen with my sword. I slipped on some leaves and fell down an embankment. Except for a few bruises, I wasn’t hurt, but my fall had caused a rather large boulder to become loose. As I stood to attend to my cuts, it came crashing down the hill, knocked me down, and crushed my arm under it.

“I lay there for hours, going from crying out for my father to crying from the pain. At some point, I must have passed out. When I awoke, it was nightfall. I heard my father calling for me, but I didn’t have a voice, though I tried, nonetheless. My father and several men from the village surrounding our estate searched for me when I didn’t return for tea. When my father found me, I was weak. It took three men to lift the rock enough to get me out. The local doctor tried his best, but eventually, gangrene set in. It was either lose my arm or lose my life.”

Evander paused, allowing the flood of memories that came when he told this story. His father’s voice across the wood, his mother’s hysteria at seeing him wounded, the doctor and his jar of leaches.

He continued. “I’ve worn different prosthetics over the years, but this one is the most advanced. I can feel even the slightest touch and have full use and control. Liam was partly the reason I’ve gained strength despite my disadvantage. Well, Liam, Max, and Cam. They immediately accepted me. It was the first time I experienced belonging. They do not treat me any differently. I am one of them. Whole. Accepted.”

“Bless your heart.” She sighed. “I’m so sorry that happened to you as a child. You must have been terrified.” Her voice was thick with emotion. “I’m grateful your daddy found you.” She reached out and stroked his arm, rubbing above the stump tenderly.

Evander looked down, watching her caressing his skin, the sympathy in her voice. He nodded and grasped her fingers with his other hand. There wasn’t pity in her touch, only sorrow for the story.

“I am too.” He kissed her fingertips without hesitation and rolled to face her.

“What do you call it?” she said and then gasped. “Never mind, that was insensitive.” She rolled over to look up at the ceiling.

He imagined her face, red creeping up in embarrassment. It was an odd little quirk, this blurting something out and immediately regretting it. She hid her face with her hands, and Evander chuckled.

“Straight to the point, eh?”

Ellie groaned from behind her hands.

“A nub. I call it my nub.”

She uncovered her face and looked at him.

“What about you, Ellie dear?”

“What about me?” she asked the dark.

“You like to be alone, are comfortable alone, that I understand. But sometimes I think it’s a facade.”

She tucked a hand under her head and sighed. Smoothing her head against the pillow, settling in, she began playing with her hair. She twirled it around her finger, sliding it in a slow, rhythmic pattern.

“I was alone a lot. I’m adopted and loved but I was a shy child. So, I escaped into books. My mother taught me to read, passing on her love of a good story. When I was younger, I’d save my weekly allowance and ride my bike into town to a used bookshop. I’d find the oldest, dustiest books and bring them home, rescuing them. Once I married Penn, books offered me a way to escape. There were endless possibilities: a pirate, a castaway, a detective, anything other than being crushed by his words. He hated my book buying, especially once I started buying rare and first editions. They took my attention away from him.”

“What went wrong?”

Ellie rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Many things.” She shrugged one shoulder.

“The more I learn about him, the more I am angered on your behalf.”

“We were both unhappy, Evander; we had been unhappy for years.”

“Why marry then if he wasn’t your soulmate?”

Ellie scoffed. “Soulmate?” she said, snorting indelicately. “No, Penn was not my soulmate.”

“Why marry him?”

“That is the million-dollar question, my friend. Why indeed?” She wiggled deeper under the blanket.

“Did you ever look up from something you’ve been focused on and realize three hours have passed? That’s how I felt—eighteen years just passed by. I existed, that was all. I married him because it was the next step. We dated in college and got offered jobs near my hometown. It seemed right. There were signs from the beginning, but I always thought things would improve. It wasn’t love.”

“No?”

“He was just available. I’m a healthy girl with a lot to hold on to. Penn saw me at first. I hadn’t dated much when he came along, and he would tell me how much he loved my body, loved me, until he changed. For a long time, I tried to change for him. I attempted diets, exercised, changed my clothes, but nothing was ever good enough. No, I was never good enough. He was mean, and I retreated further.

“I think of how much time I wasted waiting on him, creating a life for him. To be better for him . Ya know, I wanted babies? I’d say I didn’t, but I did. I wanted a child. But Penn didn’t, so we didn’t. I made myself small just to make room for him. When he left, I was a shell. By the end, his leaving didn’t surprise me. I could finally break free. I should have divorced him years ago, but I was afraid. Afraid he was right, and I was unlovable. Everyone assumes the divorce was bitter. I’m only bitter of the years I wasted.”

Evander moved closer as she talked and stretched out along her side. Ellie came nose-to-nose with him when she turned her head.

“Hi?” She gave him a quizzical look.

“It makes me angry how he treated you. That’s not how a man treats a woman.” He wanted to reach and hold her. Gather her to him, kiss her cheeks, tell her how captivating he found her. Something inside him sprang to life. He couldn’t tell which, the human or the beast Athena made of him, but both wanted to protect her as if she were his.

“I’m happy with myself now, though.”

Unable to resist, Evander reached out and touched her cheek, caressing it with his thumb.

“I hate to think you made yourself small for anyone. I am man enough to accept you as you are. I would never want you to pretend with me . ” If you were mine. The unsaid words echoed in the recesses of his mind .

She didn’t respond, just turned away, curling herself into a comfortable position, leaving Evander staring at her back.

This woman was awakening something in him. Drawing him to her with a force that was baffling. He had pushed away any chance of affection when Ann died. He deserved nothing more than the purgatory he was resigned to. But Ellie had opened herself to him and showed her scars. He cherished her honesty, her trust telling him as she had. And even if he eventually died at the hands of Athena, becoming one of the Chthonian Legion, he would spend whatever time they had proving to her just how much that meant. Even if the only thing that ever passed between them was friendship, he would cherish and keep this memory in Tartarus.