Chapter 53
Chapter fifty-three
THANATOS
Anubis appeared in the living room with a slight smile on his face. But that satisfaction was mixed with concern.
Thanatos recognized that look. It was about Iliana. “What’s wrong?”
His friend closed his eyes, passing a hand over his braids. “Osiris needs me in the Duat tonight. There is a disturbance that requires my attention. It is not urgent, but I cannot refuse.”
“You are worried. Because of Iliana?”
Hypnos, sitting in his chair beside Thanatos, swirled his drink. “Of course.” His face remained unreadable as he focused on the liquid in his glass.
Anubis nodded. “I do not like being away from her.” He looked at Thanatos. “Osiris asked me to look into things before coming here. I need to meet with him.”
Thanatos understood. His friend wasn’t just worried about her safety. After their relationship changed—after he’d let his guard down—leaving her hurt. “She will be fine,” Thanatos said. “We will let her know why you left.”
Some of the tension eased from Anubis’ shoulders. “Thanks.” He cast a glance down the hall, toward the sound of a running shower, then vanished.
Thanatos stared at the space Anubis had occupied. He knew that pull, the constant tug. He’d prioritized responsibility over possibility. Then Iliana happened.
She reminded him there was more to life than existing.
Since she entered their world, he’d reconnected with Anubis, pulled Hypnos out of isolation, and spoken more to Hermes in one week than in centuries.
She was worth it. He was proud to be Iliana’s protector—one of her lovers.
The admission still felt strange. Unfamiliar, but not wrong.
Across from him, Hypnos downed his scotch, staring down the hallway—at the closed door where Iliana and Anubis had trained.
He’d been distracted all evening, asking Thanatos to repeat himself more than once. His attention drifted toward sounds from the other room. A laugh. A gasp. The unmistakable rhythm of bodies moving together.
Jealousy was new for Hypnos, and he clearly hated it. His white-knuckled grip on the glass said enough. He’d probably deny it, claiming concern for Iliana’s safety or annoyance at the distraction. Excuses that weren’t quite lies, but definitely not the truth.
Thanatos knew his twin. The way he looked at Iliana when he assumed no one was watching. How his hand remained on her arm even after sleep left her; how his scowl deepened when she smiled at someone else.
He cared—and hated himself for it.
“Can you keep your remarks to yourself?” Thanatos asked without heat.
Hypnos didn’t reply. He just stood and walked out of the yurt without a word.
Thanatos sighed. He understood the conflict within his brother.
For Hypnos, detachment meant survival, not choice.
After Pasithea had twisted his feelings into weapons, used his love to manipulate and control, Hypnos had rebuilt himself around one principle: never to let anyone close enough to hurt him again.
Iliana was slipping past those defenses.
The shower cut off, and minutes later, she entered the room.
Thanatos’ hand tensed on the armrest, resisting the urge to pull her into his lap.
Her skin was flushed from the shower, and her wet hair was braided and draped over her shoulder, dampening the loose tank she wore.
She looked beautiful; glowing. More importantly, she looked healthier.
The exhaustion around her when they’d met had nearly vanished.
When she looked at him with desire in her eyes, he smiled. “Come here.”
She crossed the room and sat beside him on the couch.
“How was training with Ani?” he teased, not bothering to hide his amusement.
She went stiff next to him. “I, um…”
Thanatos chuckled and pulled her against him. “I know, Iliana. I am teasing you.”
Iliana groaned, relaxing into him. “I’m frustrated. There is no way I can win against a god.”
“It has only been a few days. You are learning faster than you realize, and you are not alone in this.”
Her hand rested on his thigh, a casual and trusting move. “I know. I’m not used to relying on others, but I’ll work on it.”
They sat in silence for several minutes before Thanatos eventually picked up the remote. “How about we watch the TV show you mentioned?”
She grabbed the remote from him and searched for her show.
Her mood was lighter than earlier when he’d walked her through tales about past heroes, those that had been shaped, or broken, by the gods and the Fates.
Most were tragedies. He’d wanted to teach her something else, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
She insisted on understanding everything, on learning from their mistakes.
He told her that her fate would differ from theirs. Still, she wanted to learn. As he shared the histories, her worry and tension grew with each one.
There’d been no real heroes in centuries.
Most gods chose to step back, adjusting to new roles.
Others, like Aphrodite, still interfered.
He and Hypnos didn’t need direct contact with the mortal world to perform their duties, and preferred to isolate themselves, protecting themselves from being hurt again.
Thanatos was in awe at the difference in himself since meeting her. Iliana saw him as more than his powers, more than death. Her smile, the quiet times at his side. She somehow made everything seem easier, as if he were living instead of merely enduring.
“I think the later episodes would be the best place to start.” Her smile was bittersweet. “This show was my dad’s favorite.”
He rested his hand on her shoulder, stroking his thumb across her soft skin.
“He was always watching weird British comedies or terrible sci-fi shows,” she said in a quiet voice. “I only watched them to spend more time with him since he was always busy with work, but we continued to watch all the seasons over the years. He and Mom traveled so much…”
She swallowed, and her hand, which was resting on his thigh, tightened as she struggled to finish.
“But he always parked the RV where he had a good reception so we could watch the new episodes together, wherever they were. It became our tradition.”
Thanatos stayed silent, giving her space to feel the memory. He didn’t rush her past the pain.
When she spoke again, a forced lightness rang in it. “The Ninth Doctor was his favorite. He was so mad when they changed actors. He said it ruined everything.” She laughed, her eyes a little watery. “He got over it, but he complained about it for three years.”
He smiled. “How about we start with that doctor, then?”
She nodded and started the show. Just as the opening credits began, Hypnos returned with a fresh drink. He sat beside Iliana and nodded.
Thanatos didn’t comment. Hypnos was trying.
Iliana leaned on Thanatos, relaxing and letting him hold her. He felt honored that she’d shared her memory and humbled that she trusted him with her grief.
They were barely into the second episode when Hermes appeared on the coffee table, blocking the screen. Iliana yelped and chucked the remote at his head.
He caught it effortlessly. “That’s no way to greet someone.”
“Can you not pop in right in front of me?” Iliana snapped.
“And here I thought you liked surprises,” he quipped, grinning at her. Hermes’ expression sobered as if remembering that he’d come there for a reason. He turned to Thanatos. “Athena requested your presence. She said it’s urgent.”
Thanatos stiffened. “Why?”
“She wouldn’t say, other than that it was something about Iliana’s safety. She caught me on my way to speak with Hecate about the curse.”
Iliana’s posture tensed. “Hecate?”
Hermes tilted his head, watching her. “Yes. Witchcraft is her domain. If anyone can trace the curse’s source, it’s her.”
She bit her lip. “And if the curse was fated?”
Her words reminded him of the prophecy she still hadn’t shared. Did she think it held the answer to breaking the curse?
Hermes stopped smiling. “Then she’ll give us the hard truth.” A second later, his humor returned. “I’d go to Circe, though I’d rather not spend eternity as a farm animal.”
Iliana’s mouth popped open in shock. “Wait, she actually turns people into animals?”
“Only the annoying ones.” Hermes winked.
Thanatos squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.” He leaned in, kissing her. “Do not watch too many episodes without me. You will have to tell me what happened to the Doctor later.”
“Who’s the Doctor?” Hermes asked, but no one answered him.
Hypnos’ voice entered his mind. “I’ll keep her safe. Keep me updated.”
Thanatos nodded. He kissed Iliana again, then left her with his brother and Hermes.
He appeared outside Athena’s temple. The exterior was small and plain compared to other temples in Olympus. Its modest outside concealed chambers as vast or as small as the goddess desired. He shook his head at the absurd comparison to the TARDIS.
He walked inside and stopped at the altar in the center of the main chamber to wait.
“I’ve heard some unsettling news.” Athena’s voice came from behind him.
He turned, noting her modern military attire—a dark shirt and cargo pants.
His brow arched. “What recent troubles have you dressed like that?”
She ignored the question. “There are rumors of a sleeping god stirring. Waking.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know yet, but the timing troubles me. Gods don’t wake without reason; not after centuries of dormancy.” She stopped pacing and looked at him. “I wasn’t certain this had anything to do with the girl until I heard something else.”
Thanatos’ irritation spiked. “What else?” Getting a straight answer from her was impossible.
Athena looked at him, her gray eyes focused. “I’ve heard of a human girl surrounded by gods, her guardians, who has attracted beings from different pantheons.”
The thought of one of the Titans or another ancient being waking made his entire being tense. “You think the sleeping god is waking because of her?”
“I think,” Athena began, measuring her words, “that when the Fates weave prophecy around a mortal, when gods from multiple pantheons suddenly converge in one location, it is not a coincidence.”
Warning bells rang in his mind. The Kabeiroi—the ancient watchers. Remembering what Anubis had seen, he sent out his senses. He felt nothing, but he knew they weren’t done.
“What do you make of the Kabeiroi?” he asked, watching for her reaction.
Her eyes narrowed. “You saw one?”
“Anubis did. It did not approach, only watched.”
“That’s not something to be taken lightly.” Athena’s expression turned distant and calculating. “The Kabeiroi signal a change.” She turned to face him fully. “If they’re watching, her visit with the Fates was significant. Whatever prophecy she received will change everything for all of us.”
Thanatos bit his tongue. He wanted those answers as much as anyone, but Iliana hadn’t shared the prophecy for a reason. He wanted to respect that. At that moment, he was grateful she hadn’t told him. He wouldn’t be able to lie to Athena—not with what she held over his head.
“She has not told us,” he admitted.
“You haven’t questioned her?”
He returned her stare with one of his own. “She’s not a prisoner.”
Athena’s expression didn’t change. “No, she isn’t. However, playing guessing games when the Kabeiroi are involved is foolish. If she holds the key to what’s coming, you’re gambling with more than her life.” She paused. “Have you even asked her?”
Thanatos exhaled slowly. “She promised to consider it.”
The goddess was silent for a moment. “Press her. If she’s the reason why the Kabeiroi are watching, we’ll be facing something bigger than rogue gods or curses.”
He resisted the urge to grind his teeth. He wanted the prophecy to protect Iliana—but what did Athena want?
She scrutinized him, then shook her head. “Never mind. Let’s set that aside. I need you to investigate the sleeping god.”
“No.”
Athena arched a brow. “No?”
“I am not leaving her.”
He could see her calculating, preparing to use her leverage over Hypnos.
Part of him knew he should agree, the part that had prioritized duty above all else.
That’s what was expected. To put his personal wants aside for the greater good.
But the other part, the part Iliana had woken, refused to bend.
What good was protecting the world if he lost the one person who’d reminded him why it was worth protecting?
“This is part of the duty I requested of you. Keeping her safe,” Athena said, leaving no more room for argument.
He wasn’t convinced, but he knew he was pushing her. How patient would she be with his resistance? If she passed the blackmail to Zeus, Hypnos wouldn’t be able to protect Iliana.
He had to give her something—for now.
“I can look for a few hours tonight, but I need to focus on Iliana’s protection until we learn more about any threats she might face.”
The compromise tasted like failure. Choosing duty over desire.
Responsibility over love. But it was also practical.
If there were truly a sleeping god about to wake because of her, investigating would help keep Iliana safe.
He had to be both the god of death, who fulfilled obligations, and the god who loved a mortal woman.
Athena’s eyes flickered with something indecipherable. “Fine. After you’re gone, I’ll review some records and narrow things down, but you must push her on the prophecy in exchange. We can’t afford to wait much longer.”
Thanatos didn’t like that, but he knew she wasn’t wrong. He nodded. “I’ll talk to her. But she gets to decide when she tells us.”
“A day. Give her a day, Thanatos. No more.”
He agreed. It wasn’t a hardship. Iliana had already agreed to tell them tomorrow.
Athena turned toward one of the temple’s back chambers. “I’ve had a librarian compile some documents. They can help you sort through them.”
“Will you be assisting tonight?”
She shook her head. “I have a meeting with Zeus.”
Then, she was gone.
Thanatos cursed softly. The antechamber contained a long rectangular table covered in scrolls and books. Far more than he’d expected.
They would take hours to pore over.
Despite the task ahead of him, a more significant issue weighed on his mind. Everything was converging. The Kabeiroi’s vigil. The sleeping god. Athena’s barely concealed urgency.
And Iliana, at the center of it all.