Page 22 of The Chosen Son

If I weren’t so depressed, I would have laughed. How could he believe that money played any part in this? Instead, I sputtered in indignation. “W-What? You think this is about money? I don’t give a shit about suing you! I just want you to fix this!” I turned to Dr. Wells. “Isn’t there something you can give me to make me feel better? I’ll take anything. I can’t live like this.”

The older man rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “Well, we can give you some heavy steroids. It’s a temporary solution, as it comes with its own set of risks and side effects, but it should make you feel better for now. And in the meanwhile, I’ll start working on some other forms of treatment.”

“Should I… stop using my powers?” I asked him, thinking about my job as Phobos’s sidekick.

He thought it over for a moment. “I don’t think it will matter either way. To let them build up without an outlet could be even more dangerous to your health. Just do whatever you can to hold on. I’ll get started this afternoon. I just need some time.”

Dr. Wells watched me for a long moment, his gaze tender and full of apology. “I really am sorry, Cameron. You don’t deserve this.”

“No. I don’t,” I said bitterly. I shoved my chair back with a harsh squeal across the floor and stormed toward the door. When Barney made to follow me, I snapped, “Don’t get up. I’ll show myself out.”

Chapter 10

Deimos

“Don’t you have anythingplanned for your future? Anything at all?” Dad asked, leaning back in his chair and giving me a disappointed frown. “Your brother at least has his superhero gig, for whatever that’s worth, but your name has practically faded from textbooks. Humans have such short memories, and these last centuries of moping have allowed them to forget about you.”

“Ares,” my mother chided with a warning tone.

“No, it’s fine, Mom. It’s best if we just let him get the whole ‘disappointing son’ routine out of the way before our other guests arrive.” It was nothing new. I was always made to feel like a failure when compared to the more virtuous Phobos. He with the golden son who could do no wrong, while I was nothing but second-best.

“What you need to do,” Dad continued, leaning his forearms on the table, “is remind them of why they should fear you. Shake the dust off the old chariot and ride into battle, flaming sword in hand. You have plenty of wars to choose from, they’re constantly cropping up,fighting over borders or religion.” He spoke of war so casually, and there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “I’ll come with you. It’ll be like the good old days.”

“You will do no such thing,” Mom snapped, eyes narrowing dangerously. “You’re retired.” She might’ve been the goddess of love, but Aphrodite was just as passionate when she fought with her husband. She always reminded us that love and hate were not so different, both originating from the heart. It was apathy that was their opposite.

The doorbell rang, interrupting the torture. “Oh good, more victims for your disappointment.” I shoved my chair back and headed for the door. It was Harmonia and her husband, but I’d barely made it out of the entryway before the doorbell sounded again.

One by one my nieces arrived, each chattering in their nonstop stream of excited gossip, and I was grateful to have them there to fill every inch of conversation, thereby cutting off any more of Dad’s barely disguised digs at my ineptitude.

We weren’t about to eat, though, until the guest of honor arrived at last.

I dragged my tongue along my lower lip, devouring the sight across the dining table from me. Cameron was such a mouthwatering morsel this evening, in dark jeans, white button-up, and a slim-fitting jacket. His hair was slicked back, and when our eyes connected, they were like two dark pools of melted chocolate that made me hard. I would love nothing more than to lap him up. He must’ve at least partly suspected the way my mind was spinning, because the most alluring rose tint made his cheeks glow.

Fuck, this man, he made my cock ache like when I was a teenager, and I hadn’t been a teenager in a very long time. Cameron, however, might’ve been one last week for all I knew. He was so damn young,tooyoung.

And I wanted him anyway.

“So glad you could make it this evening, Cameron. I look forward to getting to know you better,” I purred, practically salivating as I dreamed of the power that lived beneath his skin. Mmm, the things I could do with that power, the havoc I could wreak.

Mom latched onto what I’d said. “Yes! Please, Cameron, tell us. How do you like being a superhero?”

“Oh, no—” Cam began, shaking his head. “I’m just the sidekick. Phobos does all the real work.”

Mom tsked. “I don’t believe that for a second. You know what they say—behind every great alpha is an even greater omega.” She shot Dad a look. “Isn’t that right, dear?”

“Right as always, my love.” Dad took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I am nothing without you.” She smirked in reply before she got up to grab the food from the kitchen.

Phobos, however, had heard something less than innocent in what I’d said to Cameron. He caught my eye, glaring at me as he draped his arm possessively across the back of Cameron’s chair. I shrugged, a perfect image of innocence—mindreading was not one of his abilities.

Cameron, for his part, was unaware of the way Phobos was trying to lay a claim on him. He seemed… different tonight, his eyes a little glazed, but maybe it was just the show my family was putting on. It was total chaos, as was usually the case when we all got together.

Harmonia and her husband, Cadmus, and their grown daughters—all six of them; Ino, Polydorus, Autonoe, Agave, Semele, and Illyrius—were like a constantly exploding bomb, all chatter and hen-pecking. I honestly wasn’t sure how Cadmus had survived their childhood, but they’d long since gone on to live their own lives. Thankfully, they’d left most of their kids and spouses at home tonight.Things could get really chaotic, not to mention volatile, around here if we didn’t draw a line somewhere.

They weren’t even the worst of it, though. My parents had zero sense of what was appropriate PDA outside of the bedroom. They fought hard—because duh, Ares was the god of war and violence—and they played even harder, my mother being Aphrodite, the goddess of love, pleasure, and procreation. They were a marriage of passion, and it showed.

Semele rounded the table and presented a bottle of wine to my father, the glass dark and the cork sealed with blood-red wax. “Dion sends his regards,” she said. “He was sad he couldn’t make it for your special occasion, but he was tied up at work with their latest stage production at the Performing Arts Centre. He asked me to bring this bottle of his finest vintage for you.”

“That was nice of him,” my dad said, smiling politely. He got along well enough with his great-grandson, although their personalities clashed horribly. Last year, after they’d both had too much to drink, they’d gotten into an argument over their top ten movies, which had nearly resulted in a fistfight. It didn’t help that Dion loved to goad the old man.

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