Page 52 of The Chosen Son

“What? Why?” he asked, his throat working hard to swallow around the boulder I knew must’ve been lodged in there. I’d never seen someone resist this level of my dread since Achilles. Why did this sweet man have to be so damn brave?

“What do you meanwhy?” I asked bluntly. I gestured down at myself with the sweep of a hand. “Look at me. I’m the bad guy! I do what I want, take what I want. I hurt people, and I don’t even feelguilty about it! But you… you’re meant to be with the hero, not the villain.”

He shook his head hard enough to dislodge a tear, painting a line down his cheek. “You obviously don’t see yourself as I do. I see a man who helped me face my demons, even when there was nothing for him to gain. A man who helps a senior couple keep their business, not because he’ll turn a profit but because you genuinely like them. And you’re a man I… Ineed,” he pleaded, gripping my lapels in his fists, his eyes wild.

I nearly buckled under the weight of regret. “No, I’ve thought about how I can still help you siphon your power, even after—”

He slapped my chest hard enough to sting. “I don’t need you because of my illness, stupid! I need you because I love you!”

Everything stood still for one moment, and hope fluttered to life like a flickering match keeping the darkest night at bay, but I strengthened my resolve. “You don’t love me,” I insisted, shaking my head sadly. “You onlythinkyou do. It’s okay, I understand the confusion you must be feeling. I made you feel better and—"

“Stop it! Tell me you don’t love me too. Say it.” His eyes flashed dangerously, and if he’d had any power left in him, I had a feeling I would’ve been paying the price.

I opened my mouth to refute it, but the words wouldn’t form. “Ican’tlove you,” I told him instead, not the same thing but close enough.

I would never get another chance like this. Dammit, why the hell wouldn’t he just walk away?

Closing my eyes, I stepped closer to him, and when I opened them again, he looked so damn hopeful, and my heart squeezed painfully in my chest. “Don’t worry,” I whispered. “You won’t even miss me…” I brushed my fingertips across his temple, andhe gasped.

I forced myself to keep staring into his eyes; I wanted to see the moment he realized what I was about to do, so I could remember the betrayal when I thought about crawling back to him and begging for his forgiveness.

“Stop! Don’t—” he began, trying to pull away, but it was too late. I was already sifting through his memories to remove all but the worst parts of me. When I was through, he would go back to hating me… the way it was always meant to be.

In the end, it would be me who remembered what we could’ve had, who took the lion’s share of the grief. Three hundred years ago, after losing Gorgias, I’d sworn that I would do whatever necessary to get my revenge, and I told myself that it was worth it.

It had to be.

Chapter 21

Cameron

“I’m supposed to be…meeting Phobos?” I muttered, looking around. “No, that doesn’t make sense.”

I felt like I was forgetting something important. Why was I downtown? My entire brain felt like it was wrapped in a down quilt, warm and slightly fuzzy. And my feet hurt, as if I’d been walking for quite some time. I glanced down at my feet and saw that I was wearing dress shoes I didn’t remember buying. In fact, I didn’t recognize my pants or shirt either. Was I wearing a tie?

Nothing made any sense. Did I have amnesia? That was something that only happened in the movies, right? Or did I hit my head or something? I ran my fingers over my scalp, but I didn’t feel any bumps or bruises. Maybe it had something to do with my illness. I didn’t feel sick, though, just lost. In fact, I felt better than I had in a long time. Should I call Dr. Ellis?

When I pulled my phone out, I hesitated. My heart gave a lilting stutter. The lit screen showed a picture of Deimos, but… why the fuck would I have a picture of him on my phone?

A fleeting thought pinged inside me, like a drop of water falling into a well, spreading ripples across the surface.

Something about… Deimos…

With the squeak of hinges, a door opened in front of me, several people spilling out onto the sidewalk, laughing raucously and reeking of booze. I stumbled back out of their way, my heel catching on a crack in the sidewalk, nearly tipping over. I caught myself with a hand against the wall, the bricks scraping my palm. Hissing, I blinked down at the blood welling from the shallow cuts.

A memory of Deimos and skinned knees…

I felt like I was supposed to go see Phobos, but the thought of being around him made me anxious andfrustrated. He wasn’t what I needed. What Ineededwas to chase this loose thread, but it felt like if I pulled on it too hard, it might snap and I would lose it. Or even worse, like I was just barely holding myself together, and one tug could make me unravel entirely. So instead of going home, I pulled open the bar door and stepped inside, letting its warm light envelop me with a gentle caress.

The bar was surprisingly rustic for downtown Valleywood. Instead of the metal and glass and neon, it was all warm polished wood with a large wrought-iron chandelier as the centerpiece. The lightbulbs flickered like artificial candlelight, the atmosphere almost like I’d walked into a log cabin in the middle of the woods. There was even a bearskin rug in front of a stone fireplace.

It wasn’t crowded, just a handful of people who looked like they’d had too much to drink, but at least they were a happy bunch. I sidled up to the long, polished bar and slipped onto a stool, setting myforearms on the bar top. A young woman who looked barely old enough to drink herself appeared in front of me. “You’re new. First time to The Wolf’s Den?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“I-I dunno. Whatever you have on tap.” It probably wasn’t a very good idea for me to be drinking right now, but I needed time to think.

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