21. Chapter 21
Chapter twenty-one
Corre
I t wasn’t that late, but Corre didn’t mind going to bed. In fact, she welcomed it with open arms. She was exhausted. The ordeal of traveling down and through the Underworld, running into Hades, and nursing him to health had been a lot more tiring than she’d bargained for. Go figure.
Granted, she hadn’t known she would be doing the whole ‘nursing him to health’ part. But that wasn’t what had been tiring. She’d actually kind of liked that part, which was odd because she usually got sick at the sight of too much blood. She’d gotten woozy once after she and Phineas had sparred too close to a bed of rocks and he’d scraped up his shins.
But helping Theron was different. There had been more blood in one place than Corre had ever seen, but she didn’t mind helping him clean it up and get it bandaged and squared away. It was strange that no one had ever done that for him before. Maybe that was part of why she liked helping him. He liked it, too. She could tell. That helped. And she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t enjoyed seeing him without his shirt on. Something she was acutely aware of as he slept in the bed next to her. She desperately wanted to ask him if he was asleep, but what then?
She needed to rest.
Suppressing a groan, she wiggled into a more comfortable position, but the thought of the next day’s travels weighed heavily on her mind. Tomorrow’s going to be another long journey. Why did I even come here?
She looked around the dark room. Theron’s place was surprisingly nice. It was dark and kind of dull—not a touch of anything homey in sight—but it was cozy. She’d half-expected him to live in a dingy grotto like the adjacent halls, but this looked more like a room taken from a palace. A bit plainer, maybe, but it had a grandness to it. Almost every surface was carved from dark marble or onyx, the sheets as soft as the field around her house, and the pillows felt how Corre imagined clouds would feel beneath her head. It was like she was dreaming.
Kind of.
Her heart wouldn’t stop racing. What if I wake up and I’m snoring or drooling or something? She begged herself not to think about it. Just go to sleep . Tomorrow will probably be rough.
When Corre’s eyes fluttered open the next morning, she was surprisingly well-rested. And warm. It took her a second to realize why. When she saw Theron’s arm wrapped around her, she jolted upright.
“What are you doing?!” she cried.
He mumbled something before opening his eyes and processing where he was and what was going on. His eyes shot wide open. He was a blur as he threw himself backward on the bed, almost falling off the other edge.
“I-I don’t know!” he replied.
Corre covered her mouth, but a giggle still escaped.
He narrowed his eyes. “You think this is funny?”
“You were holding me! Your legs were—”
“Stop! Don’t say it!” he yelled, covering his head with his pillow.
She snickered at his childish antics. It was endearing. “You’re the one who was doing it!”
“I was asleep! I didn’t know what I was doing!”
She dropped her hand to reveal a teasing smile. “You’re blushing.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” She laughed and crawled closer to him. “You liked it, didn’t you?”
His face turned crimson. “That’s ridiculous! Why would I want to hold you? I’m not—”
As he fumbled to find the words to say, Corre threw her head back in a fit of laughter. “You’re so cute,” she said and immediately clamped her mouth shut.
Did I say that out loud?
Now he was the one wearing a playful grin. “What was that?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, but she felt the heat rising on her face. It didn’t help that he was still shirtless and now crawling toward her.
“You said I’m cute.”
“N-no . . .” She couldn’t finish her sentence. He was so close to her. Too close. His face was only inches from hers now. She could smell the alluring scent of his skin. A rich, earthy scent with a hint of something masculine that only flustered her further. The air escaped her lungs.
The base of his voice rumbled in her ears as he said, “Yes, you did.” His voice was low, and his eyes flickered to her lips.
Her heart sped. “I was joking,” she whispered, but she knew it lacked conviction.
He gently stroked her face with the back of his hand, and it took her way more self-control than she’d care to admit to force herself from closing her eyes and leaning into his touch. But she managed to keep her eyes on his, even though his stare followed his fingers as they fell down her cheekbones and tucked her hair behind her ear.
What’s happening? She wasn’t sure if she was more confused by the way he was looking at her or by the way her body was suddenly so warm, her stomach queasy.
She swallowed and slapped his hand away. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”
He retracted his hand with a frown. “I’m sorry.” The genuine remorse in his voice filled her with guilt.His gaze fell as he backed away.
Was that too harsh?
“It’s okay,” she said, shifting awkwardly on the bed. They avoided each other’s stare until Corre took a deep breath and said, “I have to get ready. I have a long journey ahead of me today,” and slid off the bed.
“Wait!” She turned. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything, and when she decided to turn back around, he quickly added, “You don’t have to go. Not yet, anyway . . . if you don’t want to.”
“What?” The room was quiet, darkness still surrounding them from the lack of windows. It was only the candles that illuminated his face as she studied it.
“I just mean . . . You came all this way. Surely, you had a reason for coming here. And I assume you wouldn’t want to turn around and make that same journey so soon. I—” he paused and looked away. “I just mean . . . you can stay. If you want. At least another day.”
The light from the candles grew, as if some sort of magic stoked it as the minutes ticked on. He’d been so adamant about her leaving, and she’d made it clear last night that she didn’t know why she was here and that she’d be leaving today. Why would he want her to stay?
She tried to remember why she’d come and whether staying an extra day was the right thing to do. Of course, she wanted to do it, even though she wasn't sure why.
She wanted to stay.
One more day couldn’t hurt.
“Okay,” she said, and his eyes snapped up to hers. “I’ll stay.” She lifted a finger. “One more day. Just to figure out what this Underworld place is all about.” She plopped back on the bed. “I need to get to the bottom of why you went to Mt. Olympus. It wasn’t a complete lie, and the excuse masked the full truth well enough.
She wasn’t ready to admit why she’d made the jump to come here—that maybe she had worried about him. A notion that only intensified when she’d seen the state he’d been in last night. Staying another night was the right call, she decided. There’s obviously more to the story than Theron being the big bad God of the Dead. There is something bigger at play here.
She thought back on the old man who’d given her food. How he’d said Theron wasn’t a monster, and that it was about time someone looked into that. As she stared down at Theron now, trying her best to act intimidating, her stomach tightened. Was it okay for her to admit to herself that she was worried about him? That she was wondering why and how someone he trusted so much could inflict such pain and abuse on him?
How could anyone—especially a mentor or father figure—be so callous to their pupil?
She thought about her mother. About how caring Berenice had been when she was placed in her care. Was Thanatos Theron’s Berenice? Because if he was, Theron had been through more anguish than Corre could comprehend.
Yes. Staying one more day was the right thing to do. Even though she wondered what one more day could actually do in the grand scheme of things. Her thoughts were interrupted by Theron laughing. “Is that why you’re here?” he said and, for a second, she’d forgotten what she’d told him. “Do you really think I’ll tell you why I went up there?”
Right . She let out a half-laugh. Mt. Olympus .
He flipped the blanket off his legs and moved far too close to her again. A habit of his that tormented her in a way she didn’t understand.
Corre evaded his gaze, but he tilted her chin so she had no choice but to look up at him. Theron’s eyes fell to her lips again. Just for a second. Then he looked back into her eyes. “I’m not going to tell you anything, so if that’s the reason you’re here, maybe you should just go back.”
“I don’t need to prove myself to you. I . . . um . . .” Her lackluster lie started to crumble. “I don’t need to explain myself. I’m, um, I’m tired from yesterday’s journey, but I get it if you want me to leave. I’ll just bathe and pack up my things—”
“No!” he shouted. He raked a hand through his hair. “Sorry.” His face twisted in frustration. “Get ready if you wish. But stay here. In this room. I have to go train, and I can’t have you wandering the labyrinth, or both our heads will be on a chopping block.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
His body relaxed. “Okay. Stay here. I’ll come back at midday and bring you some food. We can decide what to do then. If you want to leave, I’ll find a way to escort you back, but if you decide to stay, you need to figure out how to spend the rest of your day in here.” He cast her a stern look. “Because you cannot leave this room. Under any circumstances. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said, suddenly wishing she’d at least brought something to paint with, or maybe train with, to pass the time. Maybe weights—or soil and seeds—whatever would have fit in that small basket.
“Get going,” he said, pointing to the washing room. “I have to go right away.”
“Don’t you need to use it first?”
He fidgeted and let out a grumble. “I guess, but I’m already behind. Just—” His mouth hung open for a second before he clamped it shut and strode into the washing room, slamming the door behind him. He was only in there about five minutes before he walked back out and started peeling off his clothes.
“What are you doing!?” Corre squealed, quickly turning to face the wall.
“I have to get ready!”
“You don’t have to do it in front of me!”
He laughed. “I know, but I like to see your face turn pink.”
“You’re cruel, you know that?”
He shut the wardrobe door. “So I’ve been told.”
A chair creaked, so Corre thought it safe to look. He was putting his boots on. She turned back around and crossed her arms, leaning against the wall. “Have fun training,” she spat.
“Oh, yeah. It will be a blast.” He grabbed something behind his door. It was long and pointed with an onyx body and gold, swirled embellishments. When he hooked it to his belt, she realized it was a sword.
He grabbed the doorknob with his freshly gloved hands, then paused. “Don’t make a sound in here,” he said, without turning to face her. “There are ears everywhere.”
Before she could utter a response, the door closed, and he was gone.
Theron
She had some nerve prancing into Tartarus and demanding he tell her about his mission on Mt. Olympus. Theron grumbled as he made it to his training dungeon. He was almost to the door when it flung open and Nikias emerged.
The blonde general sneered. “Aren’t you a little late this morning?”
“Why were you in there? That’s my training chamber.”
“You weren’t in there, and I needed to train.” He smirked. “Just in case.”
“In case of what ?”
Nikias snickered to himself and walked away, his arms firmly planted at his sides. His pretentiousness, smugness, and love of order and all things boring made Theron hate him with a passion, but he didn’t feel like getting into a verbal spar with him today, so he just rolled his eyes and entered the dungeon.
Enveloped in darkness, the only sounds Theron could hear were the echoes of his boots scraping against the uneven, rocky floor beneath. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, his gaze shifted to the other side of the room. Something isn’t right. Where is the —“Ah!” A piercing stroke lashed him on the shoulder. The pain was white-hot, causing him to stagger back, his hand thrusting against the stinging wound. Blood trickled through his fingers.
He whipped around and was met with the belly of a beast greater than any he’d seen as of late. His eyes scrolled up its long, silvery neck as he gaped at the five-headed serpent snarling down at him. The entirety of its body was covered in thick, metallic scales like pointed bars of gold as sharp as the blade at Theron’s side. Its mouth peeled back to reveal five rows of dripping, black teeth.
Thanatos was determined to break him.
The beast wailed an unearthly screech and pounced at him. Theron’s hand groped at his side, unsheathing his sword, but his mind was cluttered. He needed a clear head to fight something like this, but all he could think about was her. About the way her eyelashes batted in that sultry way when their eyes locked. The way her breathing changed when he crawled to her. The way she smelled so sweet and intoxicating. The way her body felt against his in that brief moment of accidental contact earlier that morning. It had only lasted a fraction of a second, but it was enough to enrapture him with thoughts of her when he least wanted to think at all.
Theron focused his stare on that five-headed beast—on its beady, black eyes and dragonic form—in total concentration. He had to stop thinking about her, but no matter how hard he tried, all he could see and feel was her. The softness of her skin. The curves of her body. He swung the sword at the beast and tried to stop his mind from turning, his skin from blazing. Tried to erase all the memories from the last twelve hours for this one match. But a task that hefty would take a lot more training—the kind he had no experience in.
For now, he had to fight this thing and try his best not to think about anything but the weight of the sword in his hands and the movements of the creature stalking his every move. And hope to Zeus that the distraction of knowing Correlia was currently lying in his bed would eventually go away.