Page 101 of A Touch of Chaos

“We will keep you safe,” Dionysus had said, but he knew what had convinced her to leave with them, andthat was the promise of seeing Ariadne. It was a testament to the love they had for each other, but Dionysus knew Phaedra’s fear of Theseus was stronger. She would return to her husband. The only question was how much destruction Theseus would have to cause before she left.

And would her return even stop his chaos?

Dionysus approached Ariadne’s bed with the intention of leaving her clothes there, but as he did, he noticed a picture pinned to the wall. It was creased and stained, yet that did not dull the bright smiles of a young Ariadne and Phaedra staring back. It made him wonder what led them to where they were now, but he thought he could guess the answer. It was a predator named Theseus.

His eyes lowered to her bed, and as he set the clothes down, he noticed something sticking out from under it. He bent to pick it up and found it was a leather-bound journal.

“What are you doing?”

Dionysus whirled to find Ariadne in the doorway of her bathroom. She stood, wrapped in a white towel, her dark hair plastered to her head. He knew she’d asked him a question, but he couldn’t think beyond her and the water dripping off her body, which led to other thoughts like the fact that she was naked under that towel and how she’d felt against him and around him in the cave.

Fuck. He was aroused, and she wasn’t even naked.

Ariadne’s eyes fell to the journal in his hands. At first, she looked horrified, and then she looked pissed.

Say something, you idiot!he thought, but he couldn’t unstick his tongue from the top of his mouth.

She crossed to him and yanked the journal away, simultaneously dropping her towel.

Suddenly, she was naked, and Dionysus continued to be speechless, but he did manage to retrieve her towel—or at least he tried, but Ariadne moved at the same time. Their heads knocked together hard, and while Dionysus barely felt anything, the impact sent Ariadne to the ground. It did not help that she landed in what was probably the most erotic position ever—on her back with her legs splayed.

Fuck me, he thought.

She lifted herself up onto her elbows and rubbed her head.

“Gods, I hate you,” she whined.

Those words shook him, and he realized he was still holding her towel.

He shoved it out to her and then offered his hand, helping her to her feet. He held up the journal she’d dropped too. She took it and hugged it to her chest along with the towel.

“I didn’t read it,” he said quickly. “I just saw it on the floor and picked it up.” Though now he had to admit he was even more curious about what was inside. “I…uh…” he said, swallowing. “I brought you some clothes. They’re from Naia.”

Gods, he was embarrassing.

“Thank you,” she said.

They stared at each other, and then he lifted his hand, calling on his magic to heal the blossoming redness across her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed beneath his touch, and his fingers lingered, tracing along her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth.

He wanted to kiss her there, but instead, he dropped his hand.

She opened her eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He hoped she knew he was asking about more than just her head.

“I will be,” she said. “Once I see my sister.”

It was the answer he had expected, but he understood.

“I’ll let you get dressed,” he said.

When he stepped outside her room, he ran his hands over his braids, hooking them behind his neck.

“You are a fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself and proceeded to pace until she emerged a few minutes later. “Ready?” he asked.

He knew the answer, but he felt like he needed to ask before teleporting.

She nodded, taking a breath. She seemed nervous, and he wondered why. From what he could tell, she and Phaedra had a good relationship, though it was possible Theseus had poisoned the connection between them.

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