20. Chapter 20
Chapter twenty
Theron
“ W hat are you doing here?” he asked as they tumbled into his room.
Correlia tried steadying him, but she wouldn’t be able to hold his weight if he started to fall. He reluctantly unhooked her arm from his so he could fall onto the bed. “Are you okay?” she asked again, but he couldn’t answer. The pain in his side was throbbing, and his suspicions were confirmed when he heard her gasp. “Your side is bleeding!”
“I know,” he muttered. His body decided to betray him once more, letting out an enormous growling sound.
“You’re in really bad shape,” she said, that tone of shock still planted in her voice.
“Thanks.” He winced. His stomach was starting to churn. He needed to eat. Or throw up. Or pass out. He didn’t know what he needed, but she was right. He was in really bad shape.
“Let me help you.” Before he could object, she was gently laying him on his back, propping his head up on a pillow.
He blinked a couple of times until his eyes cooperated enough to allow him to see her. To drink her in. Seeing her pursed lips as she looked down at him with concern was a better balm than anything he could have found for himself. He should have protested to her helping him, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t know how long this would last, and he wasn’t in a state where his thoughts were rational.
“Okay,”he said, “But I don’t know how you can.”
Thin lines crinkled on her forehead, and she brushed the hair from his face. With every touch of her fingertips, his heart beat faster. Something inside his chest lifted. He was about to let his eyes close when she took her hand away and said, “Your skin is hot . . . I’ll get you a cloth.” She got up from the bed and looked around.
“In there,” he said weakly, nodding to the washing room. She padded through the doors, and as he heard her clink around in there, he was grateful he wasn’t a slob.
He heard a brief splash before she reappeared. “Here.” She placed a damp, rolled-up cloth on his forehead. “Is this all right?” He nodded, and she patted it down his face, then placed it back on his forehead. “Now, about those bandages. They really need to be changed, but I can tell you’re weak.”
His stomach growled again, and he felt the color rise to his cheeks. How embarrassing , he thought, but she didn’t seem to mind. “Here,” she said, bending down and fishing something out of a basket by the door. She unpinned her cloak and threw it on top of it. Her shoulders were bare, and she was wearing that same shimmery gown she’d had on when they’d first met, or something very similar, with warm stockings underneath.
She stopped for a second so she could pull them off, and Theron couldn’t stop himself from watching the way the stockings slid off her calves and the dress shifted on her curves. He quickly looked away when she turned back around. “Eat this,” she said, handing him a slice of bread and an apple. “You need it far more than I do.”
“No, I couldn’t take your food—”
“Nonsense,” she said firmly. “Eat it. I’ll find something to bandage you up.”
He took the food from her and waited until she turned back around to stuff it in his face. He’d never tasted anything so good. “The bandages are in the drawer by the wardrobe,” he said between bites. “As are the glasses.” He needed a drink stronger than water, but he would take anything right now.
She filled a glass in the washing room and gave it to him before heading back for the bandages.
“Take off your shirt,” she said, and the color rushed back to his face.
“What?”
Excitement must have flashed in his eyes because she gave him an unimpressed look and said, “Not like that. I need you shirtless so I can change your bandage.”
“R-right,” he said, lifting himself on the bed. He let out an involuntary grunt, which made Correlia spring closer.
“Be careful!” she said. “Here, I’ll help. Do you mind?” She tugged at the hem of his shirt, and he emphatically shook his head. She smiled. “Good. Lift your arms, and I’ll pull this off on the count of three.” She looked him in the eyes, and his heart snagged in his chest. “Okay?” He nodded. “Okay. One, two, three!” When she lifted his shirt, she paused, her eyes trailing down his chest and then down to his side.
He slid the shirt the rest of the way off his arm and threw it to the floor, but he couldn’t stop looking at her and the way the color was now creeping alonghercheekbones.
“O-oh, this is bad.” She got up and tucked her hair behind her ears. “The wound. The wound is bad. I-I need to get more cloths,” she said quickly, avoiding his eyes as she turned back to the washing room.
“Why are you so flustered?” he teased, his energy starting to come back now that he had some food in his stomach.
“I am not flustered,” she protested, wetting another cloth. “Your wound is just really bad. I wasn’t expecting it.”
He grinned. “Whatever you say.”
She dunked a cloth in the fountain and shot him a look through the doorway. “Do you want help or not?”
“Yes . . .” he mumbled.
She wrung out the towel, but as soon as she sat on the bed, her frown deepened. “This is terrible,” she said, examining the wound. He winced when she touched the cloth to it.
“Be careful,” he grunted.
“I am. Just . . . Hold still.” She gently pressed on the wound, trying her best to soak up the blood. He was used to pain, which may have been why he barely felt it as he watched her—someone who obviously was not used to pain or bloody gashes. Her frown was heavy, but her eyes were focused. Something about her genuine interest in helping him and her deep concentration was endearing. He could watch her like this all day.
But he was glad when she took the cloth away and grabbed the bandages. “I must admit that I’m not exactly a nurse, and I don’t have healing powers, so you’ll want someone else to look at this after I’m done. Sit up.” Theron did as he was told, and she leaned closer, wrapping the roll of gauze around his back and waist, unraveling it over him, over and over again.
She was so close he could feel her breath graze his skin as she moved. It was still hard for him to believe. He’d tried so hard to get her out of his mind, yet here she was, her hair smelling of flowers and sunlight, and her full lips pursed in concentration as her body brushed against his. As she cared for him.
Why was she caring for him?
When she finished wrapping his wound, she sat back and smiled. “There,” she said, looking up at him. Her smile dropped to a frown again. “What?”
“Why are you helping me?”
“What do you mean? You were in rough shape. Anyone would have—”
“ No . No. No one does this. No one . . . cares. Or helps. At least, not here.”
“They should.”
“Well, they don’t!”
“I’m sorry, but are you mad that I helped you?”
Theron’s stomach jerked. “What? No! I’m . . . I’m grateful. Really, I am.”
“Then why are you talking to me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Angrily!”
“I’m not angry!”
Correlia scowled. “Fine. Just . . . take it easy, okay?” She looked away, and the pout on her face made him smile.
“You’re cute when you do that.”
She jerked up. “What?”
He smiled to himself. “Am I flustering you?” He chuckled, but his teasing was cut short by an intense pain erupting from his side.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” he said, but it came out in an incoherent grumble. He could act unaffected all he wanted, but even with all his training and previous injuries, he couldn’t pretend that this didn’t hurt. “Ah!” He winced and placed his hand on his stomach; the gash extended from his navel to the side of his ribcage.
“Nonsense,” she said and crawled over to where he sat on the bed.
He tried not to scan her body as she approached.
“I can’t imagine what this feels like.” The light touch of her fingertips trailing across his bandages forced his attention back to her.
“It’s not sunshine and roses,” he spat. “You have no idea.”
She glared at him. “I just said I couldn’t imagine. Are you intent on getting me not to like you?” When he didn’t say anything, she added, “Is this how you always treat people who try to help you?” Theron didn’t have to reply. Her face changed immediately after she asked the question. “Oh. Right. You said no one helps you . . .” He nodded slowly. “But why?”
He didn’t know how to answer that through anything but another question. “Why would anyone help me?”
“Surely you have someone here who cares . . .” Her voice trailed off, and now she was the one wincing. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“No. You’re right. No one cares. Why would they?”
“What do you mean? You’re a person—a god. You deserve to be cared for.”
He laughed bitterly. “I’m not a person. A god.” She frowned, and he hated that he had to explain it to her. “I’m a monster.”
“No,” she whispered, but there was no conviction behind it. Olympian flattery. He knew she knew better than to argue with that simple fact. She knew his reputation. He remembered their previous meetings.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m supposed to be a monster. It doesn’t bother me.”
Correlia’s gaze fell, and silence filled the room.
Finally, she checked his wound again. “What hurt you so badly?”
“A beast. I fight for my training. I’m going to be the ruler here soon. I can’t let a small set of scratches affect me.”
“These are a lot more than scratches.”
He took his glass of water and gulped the rest of it down. “Yeah, well, it is what it is.” He placed his fists on either side of him, attempting to hoist himself up.
“What are you doing?” she asked, reaching out to help him.
“I need more water.”
“I can get that for you.”
He narrowed his eyes Something isn’t right . Why is she helping me? “No. I’ve got it.” He held his breath and attempted to slide off the bed. It hurt like a bugger, but he couldn’t let it show. Straightening his back, he strode to the bathroom. He was stronger than she knew, and she was up to something. He couldn’t show weakness. That was one of the first rules Thanatos had taught him. Show no weakness. Show no mercy.
He moved a piece of stone blocking the opening of the smaller fountain he used to wash his hands and drink from. As he filled his cup, he heard her gasp.
“Theron, what’s on your back?”
He covered the fountain’s head again. “What are you talking about?” He threw back another full glass of water.
“Your back. It’s torn up with scars.”
He looked at her through the reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were wide with horror.
Oh. That.
“It’s nothing.”
“ Nothing? ”
He filled his glass one more time and then walked past her. “Yes, nothing.” But before he could get any farther, she caught hold of his forearm, and their eyes locked. Her mouth was in a tight line, her eyebrows tilted downward over her concerned eyes.
“What?” he asked, completely lost.
“Theron, you shouldn’t have to be subjected to so much abuse. Is this . . . is this because of your master?”
His blood boiled. “What are you trying to say?” He shook her hand from his forearm.
Her somber expression turned to one of fury. “I’m trying to say you’re not being treated well here. That your master is putting you through too much.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he hissed. “My master is the reason I am who I am today. This pain has made me stronger.”
Something shifted in her gaze, then quietly, she said, “Are some of those scars from him? Personally?”
“Of course,” he said, still lost. “It’s all a part of my training.”
A hand rose to her mouth, which only confused him further. Was she really horrified? No. This is part of her ploy. No one would be surprised by that. It’s just how things are done.
“This is how gods are made,” he said. “But I’m sure you know that. Don’t play dumb with me.”
“I’m not playing dumb! No one should treat you like that. It’s barbaric.”
“This doesn’t concern you,” he growled and strode back to his bed. “Just go back to that field of flowers and live your sunny little life, and I’ll live mine.” He avoided her gaze for as long as he could, but the silence was suffocating, and he could feel her eyes on him as she returned to his side.
The mattress moved slightly as she sat down next to him. “Theron?”
Reluctantly, he turned, and the heartbeats pounding in his chest tripped over each other. The sparkling sunflower pattern of brown, green, and gold in her eyes shone like a kaleidoscope of stained glass. There was tenderness in them. A softness that warmed his body, even more so as she placed her hand on his face.
“What?” he whispered back. He shouldn’t love the way her fingers felt against his skin, or the way she looked at him like she cared, but he couldn’t help it. Just like he couldn’t help that, for whatever reason, tears were forming in his eyes.
“I don’t know what your master says to you or what you think, but you’re not a monster. No one should treat you like one.”
Flashes of fire tore through his mind. A fragment of a memory he longed to forget. One that confused him and wasn’t complete but was something that confirmed what he knew to be true—that he was a monster.
“I am,” he whispered, emotion welling in his throat. He swallowed the lump but couldn’t look away from her.
Her full lips were weighed down in a frown, the freckles across the bridge of her nose splattered like a litter of stars. She was perfect. With a perfect life. How could she know what he did and didn’t deserve? What he was or wasn’t. If she really was here sincerely and had no plot up her sleeve, then she was just na?ve. Completely, hopelessly na?ve.
“No,” she said, stroking his face with the back of her hand. “No one is born a monster. No one is supposed to be a monster.” When he turned his head, she turned it back, so he looked into her eyes. “No one should be treated like one, either.”
“You’re wrong.” He closed his eyes and let out a shaky exhale. “It doesn’t matter.” His heart pounded in heavy thuds. He knew her hand would soon leave his face and that she would be gone, and none of this would be real anymore. She would go back to her place on Mt. Olympus, sheltered and protected from the likes of him and everything else.
He would keep being a monster. Keep training to take his throne in the world of the dead, while she brought light and life to the world. And that would be that. It was the way things were supposed to be.
When her fingers inevitably left his face, she let out a sigh, but she didn’t contest what he said.
“Now what?” he said, turning to her again. She was staring off, and all he could see was her perfect profile. Her delicate nose, her pink lips, the curves of her chest. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I know,” she said, still staring off.
“Then why did you come?” Things had been so crazy since she got here that Theron hadn’t stopped to ask her the obvious. “You’re a bewildering goddess.”
“Why is that?” She gave him a smile, one that showed the dimples in her cheeks, and it was hard for him to put two words together.
“Um, well, you’re here. It’s dangerous to get here. Howdidyou manage, and why did you risk it?”
“It’s a long story.” She was drawing circles on the bed with her finger. “But on that note, I can’t go back today, so I’ll need to stay here tonight.”
Theron’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”
“You didn’t expect me to come all this way and leave after feeding you and cleaning your wounds, did you?”
“N-no, but you haven’t even told me why you came.”
Her lips scrunched to one side. “I . . . wanted to see you again . . . I guess.”
Something in his chest skipped, and he couldn’t hide the shock elongating his face. “You did?” He immediately regretted the unguarded tone in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried not to look excited.
“Yes, but now I’m not so sure I should have come all this way just for you to chew me out and get mad at me for helping you.” She glared at him, and his heart sank.
“Oh. I’m sorry. I’m not too good with . . . people. But I am grateful for your help.” His face tightened.
What’s gotten into me?
She smiled. “It’s okay.” She turned to face him and crossed her legs. “I know you’re not a people person.” She winked, and the blood rushed to his face.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
She laughed and fell onto her back. “Ooh, this bed is cozy.”
“Yeah, well don’t get too comfortable. You need to leave immediately.”
She rolled over and perched out her bottom lip. “I’m exhausted. You wouldn’t make me go back across the Asphodel Field and the woods tonight , would you?”
It was futile to keep his gaze from her lips. Then her eyes. Then her leg, which had become exposed through the slit of her skirt when she’d rolled over.
His whole body burned.
“I guess not,” he grumbled.
“Thank you!” she squealed, scooting next to him and resting her back against the pillows.
“What are you doing?” he said, shifting his body away from hers.
“You said I could stay here.”
“I didn’t say you could sleep in my bed!”
A sharp inhale shot through his lungs. Her face was inches from his. Her lips were so close that he could feel the warmth of her breath on his neck. She gave him another dimpled smile and burrowed into his sheets. Sparks sizzled across his skin.
“You don’t have to sleep with me,” she said. “You could sleep on the floor. I’ll only be here this one night. Then I’ll be gone, and you can have your bed back all to yourself.”
That isn’t a very hard sell . He tried not to look too eager for her to stay, but he detested the thought of her leaving. Of this room being empty again. His bed only for him.
He turned back around. “Fine, but stay as far to that side of the bed as possible.”
He grabbed one of his pillows and tried scooting as far to the left as he could. But then he felt her body against his back, her arm around his waist.
“Thank you.”
He swallowed and tried to think of training. Of the beast that gashed his side. Of demons. Anything. Anything but the way her leg felt behind his. Or the way her hand slid away from his bare skin as she rolled back to her side of the bed.
He tried not to think about how she looked lying next to him, or how he wanted to reach out and touch her. To kiss her. To make her his. To grab her and suck out her soul from her teeth. To steal her senses and entwine her in him.
There was something about her that made him want to go mad. But he couldn’t do anything about it. He had to lie here next to her, aching for her with no relief.
“Good night,” she said cheerily.
“Good night,” he grumbled, waving his hand to turn off the light. He never went to bed this early, but she was driving him crazy. He needed to sleep.
As the light flickered off, Theron had never been so grateful for darkness in his life. He didn’t know what he would do if she noticed how red his face was. Among other things.
And if he turned around and looked into her eyes, there was no way he could stop himself from kissing her.
All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and hope to fall asleep.
Why had she insisted on sleeping in his bed?
There was no way he was sleeping well tonight.