Page 25 of The Chosen Son

It was like my toes were hanging over the edge of a cliff, and I was staring down into a bottomless abyss. It wouldn’t take much to tip me over, and I just knew that if I let myself fall, I would raze the entire house to the ground around me.

I stumbled through a doorway and was grateful to find myself in a bathroom, all gleaming white porcelain and marble. Slamming thedoor behind me, I swore I felt the ground shift, and I collapsed against the counter, gripping the marble hard enough that my joints screamed in protest. Great, just what I needed now—the ability to control the very earth beneath my feet. It wouldn’t be a stretch, considering I already controlled fire and ice.

“No, no, no, no,” I chanted, clinging desperately to the fibers of my being, even as I felt myself unraveling, the weft and weave of my soul being shredded. Too hot, I wastoo hot!I wrenched off my jacket, throwing it to the ground.

Reaching for the tap, I cranked on the cold water and shoved my face under the faucet, sputtering and choking and drinking it down. I cupped my hands under the water and scooped it over the back of my neck, and I felt it soak into my collar. I stayed there, listening to the burble of water spiraling down the drain, until I felt the panic begin to ease. My breathing slowed, my heart regulated.

Blowing out a sigh, I straightened myself up, water dripping from my hair and down my face. I met my eyes in the mirror, and my heart sank. “Well, aren’t you a mess,” I muttered, reaching for the hand towel. I’d tried so hard to look nice tonight, but now, I looked more like a drowned rat. My hair was drenched, rivulets of water dripping down my cheeks and neck, soaking into my shirt and making it see-through.

I felt like I was coming off a three-day bender, but there was no sign of it in my reflection. I looked normal. Healthy, even. Like absolutely nothing was wrong. Besides being drenched, of course.

“What a crock of shit.”

I hated to imagine what everyone thought of me. Ares and Aphrodite were like Greek royalty, and I’d been so excited to meet them. Now, though, I wanted nothing more than to escape.

Maybe I could sneak out and no one wouldnotice…

I knew that wasn’t a realistic option, considering Phobos was my ride, so instead, I dried myself off as best I could, finger-combing my hair into place. “You’ve got this. You are a badass. You are charming, and everyone will love you. They didn’t notice anything was wrong,” I told myself in the firmest voice I could manage, still nowhere near steady enough to deny my doubt. I couldn’t even look at myself as I lied, so I turned and grabbed my jacket off the floor and opened the door.

Having prepared for the long walk through the maze of darkened hallways to retrace my steps, I found myself slamming into a hard chest. “Oof!”

Bouncing off his chest, his hands clamped down on my biceps in a vice-like grip. Deimos. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked bluntly in a level voice, his violet eyes hard as amethyst. I was struck suddenly in this moment just how different from his twin brother he was.

“W-What? Nothing is wrong. What are you talking about?” I sputtered like a fool. I knew exactly what he meant. I angled my gaze somewhere vaguely over his right shoulder and tried to tug free from his grasp, but his grip held firm.

He shoved his way into the room, forcing me to stumble back, but when I nearly tripped, he was there, with a hand sliding down and snagging around my waist. He pulled me flush to his body, closing the door behind him with an ominousclick.

I braced my hands on his chest, trying to push off, but he was an immovable figure, his muscles hard enough to be carved from stone. Gods, I hated myself for noticing that. “Let me go, Deimos,” I demanded weakly.

“Not until you answer my questions.” He quirked one eyebrow. “You’re soaking wet. Did you have a shower and forget to take off your clothes?”

I chuckled awkwardly. “Obviously not. I just got a little too warm at the dinner table, that’s all. And I misjudged how much water I had in my hands. Oops?”

His eyes narrowed, and when he frowned, my eyes were drawn to his full lips as they puckered. “Nope, I’m not buying it. You…” he began as he dipped his head down low enough that his lips brushed my ear, “…have a secret, and I want you to tell me what it is,” he finished in a ragged whisper. He lingered there for a moment, his breath ghosting over my sensitive skin, sending a chill racing down my spine. “Are you sick?”

I swallowed hard and found I couldn’t deny it—most importantly, I didn’t want to. “H-How did you know?” Phobos hadn’t even said anything about it, so how did this man I’d only met once notice?

He let go of my arm, inching his hand up over my shoulder, up my neck, until he was cupping my jaw in his warm palm. “I’ve been watching you, Cameron. In those moments when you think no one is watching and you let your guard down… I see you. And I’m telling you, there is something wrong. Isn’t there.” It wasn’t a question.

The emotions welled so close under the surface, it didn’t take much for him to stir them up. He waswatchingme? I wanted to be mad, but for some reason I chose not to think about, I kinda…likedthe thought that someone was there for me, even if that made him a creep or a stalker. It felt like he was my guardian angel.

My eyes burned with tears, and I bit down on my lip to keep it from quivering. I simply nodded.

“There, was that so hard to admit?” He dragged his thumb over my lip, drawing it out from between my teeth. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The question surprised me. The way he’d barged in here demanding answers, I’d expected him to keep going until he’d stripped me bare.

I thought about it for a moment, about what it would feel like to get this off my chest. To admit my weaknesses out loud. And I almost opened my mouth and spilled it all, but before I could, my body decided for me. I shook my head, and it set a tear free from my lashes, coursing down my cheek.

“My poor, sweet, breakable mortal,” he murmured, then leaned down and licked the tear from my skin, slowly, seductively. He was unhurried, the stroke of his tongue ending with a teasing flick and a satisfied hum in the back of his throat.

I should’ve pulled away, should’ve shoved him, slapped him, been outraged over the sheer nerve of him. And I could definitively say that I shouldnothave tangled my fingers in the silk of his shirt, creasing and wrinkling the fine fabric, though that was the precise thing I did.

“Deimos, I…” My protests jammed up in my throat, like they were trapped in a bottleneck, all trying to get out at once. When words failed me, I tried to squirm in his embrace, working to free myself, but that had an unexpected outcome, because now it wasn’t just hismusclesthat were hard. My jaw dropped as I felt his erection thicken—but even more surprising was when my cock twitched in reply. I tried to angle my hips away, but there was no way he would let me get away so easily. He moved until I was pinned between him and the counter, with nowhere to run.

It had been weeks since I’d even entertained the idea of anything sexual, months since I’d jerked off, and too long to count since the last time I got laid. It hadn’t been a priority when I felt so awful, but there was something about this dark god, something that felt like… balance.

And maybe it was just because the steroids had made me feel better, but suddenly it felt like my body was waking up from a coma, and it washungry.

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