Ivy’s asleep. I know it when I step through the door, and not just because of the lights.
I close the door behind me and cross the room with careful footsteps.
Alone in the bed, curled under the covers, she’s small and delicate. If she could see herself, I know she’d wish she didn’t look so vulnerable, pulling the blankets tight over her shoulders. She is though and she always has been.
I saw it in her eyes in the mirror—how much she wants to take from me, how much she wants to ask of me, how she searches my face for any hint of her memories and finds nothing.
It must feel like a betrayal, her body responding to mine so intensely. My desire for her is undeniable. She is my homeand my heaven, and all I wish is for her to remember my name. Remember how much I love her and how much she loved me.
I felt her shake out small orgasms and high peaks all over me. I think they’d have gone on forever if I gave her more pleasure. Her body lifted toward mine every time I touched her skin. Ivy arched back for me, reaching, trying to get more contact.
The memories of only a single moment are enough to fill the deepest pits of despair in my heart. The places left empty and cold when they tore her from me.
I don’t care what threads have been cut, new threads can be stronger. They will be. I know it.
And I can never deny her. I can only show her as much of the truth as I have.
The fireplace in the corner of the room cracks and cackles with the flames licking along the never-ending fire. It’s as if a confirmation of my thoughts.
I hope that part of her feels it. Part of her must remember how it was before, because she’s burned into my soul. How could I not be part of hers?
Carefully, and with a small creak of the mattress, I sit on the edge of the bed and watch her breathe. Her face is soft and relaxed in sleep. The last time I saw her like this was before I left—before the war, before I killed and was killed myself.
That was centuries ago. All those years weigh on my mind, crawling by like an eternity, each one lasting a thousand years. Every hour I spent apart from her stretched out until I thought I’d snap from the weight.
I fought for the wrong side and paid the consequences. But I was a warrior they wanted to keep, a weapon they wanted to wield. I’m grateful I do not burn in the pits of fire along with the Titans, but my hell was one and the same without her.
But now she’s here, and those centuries seem like a moment.
I crave to touch her so badly, to prove to myself she is real, that my palms ache, but I settle for placing my hand close to hers on the bed.
Now that she’s in the underworld and in my bed, though, there’s another problem.
Hecate comes for the army of the dead at the last sliver of light from the waning moon this evening. I must fight and lead her armies.
Tonight, fear weighs heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe. My mouth is dry from thinking about leaving Ivy. It’s the kind of fear I haven’t felt so intensely since Ivy and I were separated, but now it’s as if it never left me.
I fear they will take her from me again. My gaze lingers on her necklace. She assured me she will be safe. Hades and Aphrodite both. And yet…
If the gods know of one emotion it is the joy they receive from testing mortals.
There are sounds in the distance, almost too quiet to hear through the thick walls of the tower and the glass meant to shelter the interior from those noises. I hear the barking in the distance anyway. One glance out the window, and I can see the torches lighting the way. The army is gathering.
With a slow exhale and a gathering of strength, I turn my attention back to Ivy, resting peacefully and without a worry of the judgment that will be brought down in the mortal realm tonight.
I let myself stay on the bed for a few more minutes, closer to her warmth.
I close my eyes and listen to Ivy breathing. What is she dreaming about? Does she dream about me?
I would give anything to lie down beside her and join her in those dreams.
But I cannot do that. Not tonight.
As I move through the preparations, the fear in my chest grows. I clench my teeth against it. A small voice inside me begs to stay with her.
Ishouldstay with her. I’ve brought her here, and walking away again might keep us apart for centuries more.
I stand in front of the fireplace and watch the flames in the grate, my emotions already battling inside me. Should I wake her? Should I put my hand on her shoulder and coax her into consciousness just so I can hear her voice? So I can tell her I will not be back tonight, not until the new moon has blackened the sky.