Chapter 26
POSEIDON
Icut through the crowd like the sea parting around a ship, fury roiling beneath my skin.
Every nerve snapped taut the moment I caught her eyes lingering too long on Erebus—dark, brooding Erebus—as if she’d forgotten who had already claimed her.
Not that I’d mention that fact at the moment.
Her anger over it had thwarted me—her eyes had glowed with fury, resembling the blue flames of an unforgiving fire when she questioned the mark…
but I would convince her eventually. She would accept she was mine. And only mine.
She might not accept it yet, might curse me for marking her, but that didn’t change the truth. Watching her gaze sweep over another god, even for a heartbeat, had my temper spiking like a storm tide. The air itself trembled, stirred by my restraint.
‘Dance with me.’ The words left me in a growl disguised as civility.
Bronte quipped some sharp-edged jest that might have made a lesser man bristle, but I laughed—low, dangerous—because I was already picturing my hands on Cordelia, erasing any memory of Erebus with every step of the dance.
She didn’t know yet, but by the time I was done with her tonight, she’d forget every god but me.
I drew her into my arms, my hand firm at her waist, her smaller one swallowed in mine. The moment her body pressed to mine, heat pulsed through me—sweet agony. She smelled of wine and defiance, a heady mix I wanted to devour.
I spun her onto the floor, controlling every step, every breath, forcing her focus back where it belonged. On me. Her glare was sharp enough to cut, but underneath it her pulse raced—I could feel it beneath my fingers, pounding as if her heart knew the truth her lips refused to say.
A flicker of movement snagged my attention beyond her shoulder—Zeus. Looming far too close to Bronte, his eyes locked on her, like a predator circling prey. She met his stare with pure venom, every inch of her radiating scorn.
My lips curved mid-step. Oh, this was rich… my oh-so-mighty brother, undone by a sharp-tongued witch who clearly wanted to set him on fire. Dangerous? Absolutely, but gods, was it entertaining. The prick deserved every poisoned word she’d inevitably spit his way.
I tightened my grip on Cordelia’s waist, pulling her flush against me as my mouth dipped close to her ear.
‘Keep looking at Erebus, Little Red,’ I murmured, voice thick with emotion. ‘And I’ll remind you who you really long for. I still owe you a punishment, don’t forget.’
Her sharp inhale was music to my ears; that stubborn glare of hers, even sweeter. Gods, she infuriated me—and I fucking adored it. She tried to cover the slip, masking the way her body betrayed her with flames in her eyes, but then… she smirked. That little, defiant tilt of her mouth.
‘Punishment? Please. You couldn’t punish me into forgetting Erebus, let alone make me long for you.’ My Little Red dared to tease me with it, dared to bait me with that flicker of interest she’d shown in another god, and I suppressed a snarl.
Her body fought me even as it followed mine, all fire and rebellion, every twist of her hips daring me to lose control. I matched her step for step, forcing her rhythm to meet mine, bending her resistance into submission without breaking it. Gods, I lived for this fight.
I caught Erebus watching from the edge of the floor, his expression forged from shadow.
His darkness pressed like a challenge, but my mouth curved into a smile as I spun Cordelia, tugging her back to my chest with a snap of power in the move.
His gaze was nothing compared to the feel of her body flush against mine, her breath skittering as my lips brushed the shell of her ear.
‘You think the god of darkness could keep up with you?’ I murmured, just for her. ‘He’d vanish the second you burned too bright.’
She stiffened, her glare shooting up at me, but her pupils were wide, her chest heaving. ‘Oh, don’t worry, sea god. If I burn too bright, I’ll make sure you’re standing close enough to get singed.’
I chuckled, low and dark. Gods, her fury only made her more irresistible.
Then—my attention snagged again. Zeus. My ever-smug brother, now standing even closer to Bronte, leaning in as if he owned the space around her, his gaze locked on her sharp mouth. She cut him down with words—of course she did, that witch had teeth—but the bastard only looked more enthralled.
I almost laughed out loud, pulling Cordelia into a tighter spin. Bronte was going to eat Zeus alive… and he was going to love every bite.
The music swelled, and I dipped Cordelia low, her hair spilling as her breath caught. My hand lingered at her throat, thumb grazing over her pulse, a silent reminder that no matter how hard she fought me, her body knew me already. My storm lived in her veins now.
Her lips parted like she might hurl an insult—or beg. Gods, I wanted both.
I dragged her back upright, hips colliding with mine, the heat of her undeniable. ‘Look at me, Little Red,’ I growled low. ‘Not Erebus. Not anyone but me.’
Her glare locked on mine, a spark dancing, fire skimming oil. ‘You want me to look only at you? Then earn it. Otherwise, I’ll keep looking wherever, and at whoever, I damn well please.’ Stubborn to the last, but her fingers tightened on my shoulder, betraying the truth of her body’s needs.
Around us, the world blurred—the glittering ballroom, the jealous gods, the watching subjects.
It was all background noise. All I knew was the taste of her breath, the heat of her body, the promise of war in her glare…
and as I spun her once more, I thought of Erebus fading into shadow, of Zeus falling to Bronte’s sharp tongue, and of Cordelia, mine, always mine, no matter how viciously she denied it.
The tempest in me roared.
The music ended, but the storm inside me did not. I held her too long, my hand still at her waist, my thumb brushing the bare skin of her neck as if it belonged to me. She looked up at me, breathless, furious, her lips opened, a fresh barb hovering on her tongue.
I didn’t give her the chance.
‘Enough,’ I snapped, not loud enough for anyone else to hear. My hand closed over hers, firm and possessive, and I dragged her from the dance floor before she could protest. She hissed my name, but she followed, her smaller strides forced to match mine as I cut through the throng of revellers.
Zeus’s amused smirk caught my eye as I passed him. Bronte’s glare sharpened into knives, and Erebus melted back into shadow, expression unreadable. I ignored them all.
I wasn’t about to let anyone else look at her like that again. Not tonight.
We stepped into the expansive hallway beyond the ballroom, and with a swirl of seafoam and mist, I swept us both away—straight into the mortal realm.
When her feet touched ground again, her head snapped up, eyes flashing. ‘What the fuck—?’
‘Dinner,’ I interrupted, my voice low, controlled only by sheer force of will.
She blinked, disoriented, then her gaze darted around.
We stood in the heart of a restaurant so exclusive that mortals would kill for a reservation.
The décor gleamed with understated elegance, and beyond the glass doors stretched a serene courtyard—bamboo swaying gently, koi flickering through a pond, harp music drifting lazily through the air.
The very atmosphere radiated imperial opulence.
Her lips parted, eyes wide. ‘Where—'
‘King’s Joy, Beijing,’ I said smoothly, steering her towards the prime table in the courtyard—one with an uninterrupted view of the historic temple framed by lantern light and the lush garden beyond.
The ma?tre d’ rushed forward, bowing deeply. ‘Mr Thalassa.’ He gestured to the table they always kept for me.
‘Only the finest for my queen,’ I murmured into her ear, my hand finding the small of her back.
Her head whipped to me, that familiar fire snapping in her eyes. ‘I am not your queen.’
I smiled, sharp as a blade. ‘Not yet.’ Her returning scowl was delicious.
I pulled out her chair, ignoring her glower, waiting until she sat before taking the seat opposite. My gaze never left her face, drinking in every spark of fury, every twitch of dissent. She could hate me all she wanted—so long as she was here, with me, where I could keep her safe.
And gods help anyone who tried to take her from me.
The meal was… civil. Somehow.
We picked at a spread of impossibly elegant vegetarian dishes—wild mushroom risotto infused with truffle, roasted aubergine drizzled with pomegranate molasses, delicate parcels of spinach and feta wrapped in crisp filo.
She teased the stem of her wine glass with her fingers, fire flashing in her eyes every time she caught me watching her.
‘Is this supposed to make up for everything?’ she asked finally, her tone sharp enough to slice through the quiet.
‘Dinner?’ I arched a brow. ‘Or the fact that I’m not letting you out of my sight?’
Her lips pressed together. ‘Either.’
‘Then no,’ I said simply. ‘But I hoped it might make you stop glaring at me long enough to eat.’
She stabbed a piece of aubergine like it had personally offended her. ‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Liar.’
Her gaze snapped up to mine, heat and warning tangled in it. ‘You think you know me that well?’
‘I’m trying to,’ I said, and this time I kept my voice soft. Truthful. ‘Even when you’d rather I didn’t.’
Something flickered behind her eyes—uncertainty, maybe—but it vanished as quickly as it came. She leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs, pretending to relax.
‘You don’t get to want me, Si.’
I smiled faintly. ‘Too late for that.’
She looked away, the movement small but telling. The edge in her posture dulled, shoulders loosening, one hand falling from her glass to the table.
‘Why?’ she asked quietly. ‘You could have anyone.’
‘I don’t want anyone,’ I said. ‘I want you.’
Her laugh was soft and disbelieving, but not cruel this time. ‘’You really need to work on your arrogance.’