Chapter 48
Chapter forty-eight
HYPNOS
Thanatos and Iliana entered the kitchen of the safe house in Mongolia, their hair still wet from their shower together. They held hands, their fingers loosely twined. Their relaxed smiles contrasted with the other gods’ tense expressions as they waited.
An unexpected, unwelcome longing wrapped around Hypnos’ heart at the sight of their closeness.
That could be you.
He couldn’t face it. The longing made him vicious, words better left unsaid rising in his chest. The jealousy was irrational. Unfair. He knew that. But it didn’t stop him.
“You two finally get that out of your system?” he asked, his tone carrying the usual mockery. “Can we discuss the whole cursed-to-die situation now?”
He regretted the words the moment they left his mouth, but he wouldn’t take them back. Not when it was how he truly felt, even if something inside him nearly broke when Iliana flinched.
Anubis made a low, threatening sound. Thanatos glared at him.
Before the others could respond, Iliana stomped up to him, her shoulders back and her chin raised in defiance.
“I know you’ve been holed up in your cave for centuries and maybe forgot social niceties,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly. Her smoldering eyes narrowed. “But that doesn’t excuse your being an absolute ass. What I do, who I do, doesn’t affect you. So please keep your snide comments to yourself.”
Hypnos couldn’t look away. He deserved the words—the way they landed like a slap. He expected anger to follow, but it didn’t. She didn’t shrink under his glare or weaponize tears to make him feel like the villain. She gave him exactly what he’d given her.
And he wanted more. He wanted to push her, to see if her fighting spirit would burn him.
Iliana didn’t wait for his reply. She turned on her heels and walked right to Anubis, dismissing Hypnos entirely. “I’m glad you made it back safely.”
Anubis’ grin was victorious as he leaned down and brushed a quick, confident kiss to her lips. It wasn’t territorial. It was pride. Joy.
Hypnos flexed his hands at his sides.
That could’ve been you.
He glanced at Thanatos, expecting to see jealousy. But his brother looked unbothered, maybe even amused. That only made it worse.
Why did he want to tear Anubis away and have Iliana look at him like that?
“Have you eaten, little one?” Anubis asked.
When had his friend become this? The god who’d sworn off attachments, building walls as high as Hypnos, looked at Iliana as if she were everything. His entire focus seemed to narrow to her needs.
Hypnos had seen it before in himself. Once, long ago. With Pasithea.
“Not yet, um…” She blushed as her eyes moved to Thanatos.
His brother sighed. “I may have burned dinner.”
Anubis snorted.
Thanatos flicked his hand, summoning a tray of steaming moussaka onto the counter. “Problem solved.”
Iliana smiled, taking the plate from Thanatos. “Thank you.”
Hypnos tried to untangle the churning emotions but was distracted when Thanatos caught his eye, raising a silent, warning brow. He stiffened. He knew what that look meant. Enough.
But he couldn’t stop himself. He returned the look, sending one word to his brother. “Really?”
Thanatos turned away, his shoulders tense as he added food to another plate. “Fuck off, Hyp. I do not need your approval.” He handed the plate to Anubis, who joined Iliana at the table. “It’s not like you ever listened to me about your choice in women.”
The hit landed harder than Hypnos expected.
It was the truth. Thanatos had warned him about Pasithea—her motives, her ambition.
He’d ignored it, letting his heart lead him straight into a hallucination of Pasithea’s making.
And what had it cost him? In his grief, he’d lost his sons.
The Oneiroi rarely spoke to him now. They’d once been close, but now their relationship was purely duty.
Hypnos rolled his shoulders, shutting down their mental link. He left before Thanatos could speak. In the bedroom, he replaced the disheveled sheets with a thought.
It was pointless, though. The fragrance of Iliana’s arousal was now engraved on his memory.
He should leave, return to his cave, and pretend none of this mattered. But he couldn’t. Not just because of Zeus or his promise, but because of her. Iliana. The curse grew stronger daily.
Hypnos shook himself, trying to shut down his thoughts. It should have been easy. He had centuries of practice keeping others away, pretending not to care.
None of it was working.
His thoughts circled back to her. She’d faced him without fear.
She held Thanatos’ hand and kissed Anubis with no hesitation.
Thanatos was always practical and logical.
The one who never thought attachments were worth it.
Yet he looked at Iliana as though she meant everything.
And Anubis? The god who’d sworn to never allow another woman to hurt him? He was already hers.
That could be you.
No.
He slammed the thought down hard, burying that hope somewhere dark and out of reach. He wasn’t ready for this. He might never be. Not after Pasithea had taught him what wanting someone could cost.
“Is Hypnos okay? Did I go too far saying that to him?” Iliana’s question drifted in from the other room.
It would’ve been easier if she’d written him off as an asshole and moved on as everyone else did, but she noticed. She cared. Even after he’d been deliberately cruel, she still gave a damn about whether she’d hurt him.
He felt trapped between wanting to retreat further and wanting to close the distance. She made it so hard to keep his walls up when she kept looking for cracks to slip through.
No, restless one. You didn’t go far enough.
Her fire made him want to test her more. If he pushed, would she crumble or would she fight? He wasn’t sure which he wanted.
“No. I reprimanded him harshly.”
Hypnos ignored his brother’s mental nudge. He wasn’t ready to hear an apology he didn’t deserve.
“What happened tonight?” Thanatos asked.
When the conversation moved on to the failed trap, Hypnos reappeared in the kitchen and leaned against the counter. He wanted to be a part of the discussion, even though he felt like an outsider among them.
Anubis shook his head. “It was a Kabeiroi.”
His brother stiffened. “Really? So not the threat Hermes believed it was.”
“It did not attack or even try to hide. It watched.”
Iliana frowned. “What is a Kabeiroi? Should I be worried?”
“They do not interfere. They observe,” Thanatos said, placing a comforting hand on her back.
It wasn’t all they did, but it was what they were best known for. He trusted Anubis’ instincts. They only watched, they waited for her to return—and left when she didn’t.
“Then why does everyone look so tense?” Her eyes moved between them.
Anubis answered carefully. “Because they only observe important events that have the possibility of reshaping fate. Wars. Falls of empires. Changes that can be felt centuries later.”
“So, their watching me means…” Iliana trailed off.
“It means that whatever they were expecting to see at the safe house was significant. Important enough for them to let their presence be known,” Thanatos finished.
Hypnos stretched his senses, finding no lingering eyes. No threats.
“They probably caught wind of the Fates speaking to a human. Mysteries like that would attract them,” Hypnos said, shooting a glance toward Iliana.
For once, he kept the mockery out of his tone.
“And you may be the biggest mystery of all. The question isn’t whether they’ll interfere, but what they’re expecting to witness. ”
The Kabeiroi might not harm her, but they still didn’t know what they were waiting for. Her death? Or something else entirely?
“So what now?” Iliana asked.
Thanatos looked at Anubis, then back at her. “We would like you to reconsider telling us about the prophecy.” He kept his voice even, but there was urgency in it. “Especially now, with the Kabeiroi watching, with the curse getting stronger—”
“The curse is getting stronger?” she asked shakily.
All eyes fell on Hypnos. He ignored the others and answered her question. “Yes. It is getting harder to keep you asleep. To hold it back.”
Her hands tensed where they rested on the table. “How much time do I have?”
He wanted to lie. To comfort her. But she deserved the truth. “I don’t know. It could be weeks or months. It isn’t steady enough for me to predict.”
Iliana retreated into herself. “Can I think about it for a couple of days? I haven’t had time to think about it myself, much less know if I should share it with you all.”
“Days we might not have,” Hypnos said, trying to get her to come to her senses. “The curse is accelerating. The Kabeiroi are watching. Someone tried to attack you tonight—”
“And I need to think!” she interrupted. Softening her tone, she continued, “Please. Just give me two days. If it gets worse, if something changes, I’ll tell you everything. But right now, I need time to figure out what telling you will cost.”
Hypnos held his tongue even as frustration made every part of his body ache. Instead of pretending he wasn’t angry, he left.
Iliana was exhausted and had little time to process what the Fates had told her.
Hypnos felt tempted to pressure her, but he didn’t want to be the reason she refused to share the prophecy with them.
He didn’t want a repeat of what had happened when she first came to him. Her trust was slow—for good reason.
Despite the threats she faced, he wouldn’t push her. Not yet. Not tonight.
“We should get you to bed, little one.”
“I know, but it doesn’t seem late enough to sleep,” Iliana answered Anubis.
“You need to listen to your body. If it says sleep, then you sleep.”
“If I listened to my body, I’d have died already.”