Chapter 36 Playing with Fire #3
His hands were shaking as he pawed through the drawer, finally finding the familiar blue inhaler. He was back at my side in a heartbeat, pressing it to my lips with trembling fingers.
He steadied my shaking hand around the inhaler, his other hand cupping my cheek. “Breathe, love. Deep as you can.”
I pressed down, the hiss of medication filling my mouth. The first breath barely helped.
“Again,” he urged, desperation in his tone. “One more. You can do it.”
I pressed again, forcing myself to hold it in. This time, the burn started to ease, the band around my chest loosening. Sweet, precious air started to flow properly again. My head fell back against the pillows as I sucked in breath after breath.
The terror on Kian’s face began to ease as he watched my breathing regulate. He collapsed beside me, hand still at my face, as if afraid I’d slip away.
“Gods, I—” His voice cracked. He shut his eyes. “I pushed too far. I could have… This is why I hold back, why I’m always so careful with you. Mortal bodies break, Melanie. I—”
His breath shuddered. “I could have killed you.”
The self-loathing in his voice made my chest ache.
“Hey.” I managed to catch his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “Look at me.”
He didn’t want to—I could see it in the clench of his jaw.
“Aidoneus. Look at me.”
Reluctantly, he opened his eyes.
“I wanted this,” I stated, putting every ounce of conviction into the words. “All of it.”
“Melanie—”
“No, listen to me.” I squeezed his hand harder. “I knew the risks. I summoned you, knowing what it meant. This is the first attack I’ve had in weeks. My lungs are getting stronger from training. This was just… bad timing and overexertion. It happens. It’s not your fault.”
“I should have been more careful—”
“I didn’t want to be careful,” I interrupted. “I wanted you. And I got exactly what I asked for.” I managed a weak smile. “Totally worth it.”
He stared at me like I was insane. “You almost died, and you’re saying it was worth it?”
“The sex was amazing,” I pointed out. “Overall rating: would summon again.”
That startled a choked laugh out of him. “You’re impossible.”
“And you are mine,” I said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “God and man. I’m not afraid of you, Kian.”
He pulled me against his chest. “You should be. I should terrify you.”
“You don’t, though.” I snuggled closer, resting my cheek against his chest.
His eyes softened, but he didn’t ease up. If anything, he tucked the blankets tighter around me. “Stronger or not, you’re staying put. Bed rest forever.”
I tilted my head up at him, mock-serious. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you,” he countered, kissing my temple, “are reckless.”
“God of the Dead, terrified of a little wheeze,” I teased, eyelids drooping.
His glare was comically affronted. “It’s not funny, Melanie.”
“It’s a little funny,” I whispered, yawning.
“Impossible woman,” he chuckled, pressing his forehead to mine. But the relief flooding his eyes softened him.
“We should definitely do that again. At least once a week.” I added, giving him a cheeky grin. The look of outrage, amusement, and pure disbelief on his face was worth every ache in my body.
“Once a week?” Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Tealeaf, you’ll be the death of me.”
I curled into him, letting his arms cage me. His fingers combed gently through my damp hair.
“Never again without your inhaler within reach,” he muttered against my temple.
“Deal,” I mumbled back, already half-asleep.
“And maybe… maybe fewer orgasms next time. Five instead of—how many was that?”
“Lost count after seven,” I admitted.
He groaned. “Gods help me.”
“Too late,” I said. “Already helped yourself to me.”
He chuckled. “Rest, Tealeaf. Let me take care of you.”
I settled into his arms and drifted, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat and his fingers stroking my hair.
I woke to soft sunlight spilling through familiar curtains and the warm weight of an arm around my waist.
Not my dorm. The sheets beneath me were heavy and soft, threaded with the scent of cedar and smoke and him. My body ached in ways I didn’t know I could ache, my thighs trembling when I tried to shift. Bruises bloomed along my wrists, my hips, and my throat—visual reminders of what we’d done.
And yet I felt nothing but bliss.
I turned my head and found him beside me, still asleep. Kian lay on his side, facing me, one arm draped protectively over my waist. His features were relaxed. No professor’s mask, no god’s intimidating power.
Just the man beneath all those layers.
When I shifted, his arm tightened around me, pulling me closer. “Easy, Tealeaf,” he murmured without opening his eyes. “You’re sore.”
“You don’t say,” I rasped. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. A very thorough, very enthusiastic truck.”
One eye cracked open, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. “You look like you’ve been worshiped properly.”
I swatted his shoulder lightly, making him chuckle. He studied my face, then pulled me into a gentle kiss. No punishment or possession this time. Just love.
He drew back, his fingers stroking my hair. “I brought you here after you fell asleep,” he admitted. “Didn’t want Luz walking in and finding us.”
I groaned, burying my face in his chest. “That’s probably for the best. She’d hit me with her chancla.”
“Her shoe?” He raised an amused brow.
“She said she would if I didn’t put a sock on the door at least.”
He let out a soft laugh in response. I started to settle back into his arms before reality intruded.
“Oh, my gods.” I sat upright, my muscles screaming in protest. “I didn’t work on my podcast at all.”
Kian blinked up at me, bemused. “Your podcast?”
“Last night!” I flailed. “I was supposed to work on it while Luz was at the hospital, and instead I—”
“Summoned me like a temptress straight from myth?” he supplied, far too smug.
I huffed. “Kian! This episode is important. We’re exposing Ekklesia’s consent forms, and I’m behind schedule. Again.”
He propped himself up on an elbow, unbothered. “You’re hardly behind. You’ll catch up.”
I was halfway out of bed before my sore muscles reminded me why that was a terrible idea. I winced.
Kian’s voice was far too amused. “Don’t even think about it.”
“I have to. My laptop’s in my dorm—”
He snapped his fingers. Shadows rippled, making the air thin and warp. With a soft thump, my laptop and folder materialized on the nightstand.
I gawked. “You could’ve done that the whole time?”
He smirked. “You didn’t ask.”
“You are infuriating.”
“Mm. And you’re in no condition to go parading around campus.” He swung out of bed with irritating grace, tugging on boxers and a t-shirt. “Work on your podcast. I’ll make breakfast.”
I flopped back on the pillows, groaning, but opened my laptop anyway.
He reappeared a minute later, leaning against the frame. “You realize you’re not the only one who lost work hours last night.”
I glanced up, suspicious. “What do you mean?”
He gestured toward his study. “I was supposed to be grading papers. Midterms. Due back to students today.” His lip twitched. “You were very distracting.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “Not my fault, you gave in so easily.”
His laugh was low and dark. “Careful, Persephone.”
My cheeks flamed, but my hands were already flying across the keyboard. He shook his head with fond exasperation, disappearing back into the kitchen.
The dorm room was dim except for the halo of light from my desk lamp. My desk was cluttered with scattered notes, a half-drained mug of coffee gone cold, and Aunt Reenie’s last letter neatly folded on my nightstand. My recording equipment was already primed and ready to go. I pressed record.
“Hey, everyone. Welcome back to Spiritually Exhausted. It’s Melanie again, with friends.”
Luz gave me a mock salute from across our table. May perched beside her, hands tucked deep in the sleeves of her purple hoodie.
“I know last episode got intense,” I said. “We talked about Ekklesia Biotech and some questionable practices. Today’s probably not going to be any lighter.”
Luz tilted her chair back. “Just a heads-up for our listeners.”
I nodded. “Today, we’re talking about informed consent. So many of us sign things without reading the fine print. A new app’s terms of service, a gym membership, a medical release form for a clinical trial that promises to help with chronic conditions.”
I looked at the screenshots Leo had pulled.
“We assume that what we’re agreeing to is fair.
That the people on the other side wouldn’t take advantage of our desperation, our hope.
But what if they do? What if buried in that consent form is a clause that says they own any biological samples they take from you?
Any discoveries they make from studying your DNA? ”
I paused. “What if you sign away rights you don’t even know you have?”
Luz leaned toward the mic. “We’re not lawyers. We’re not scientists. We’re students. And some of us have been too close to the people Ekklesia’s programs are ‘testing.’”