Page 30 of Sweet Obsession

They open their mouth, seem to think better of whatever they were about to say, and nod shortly. “Consider it done.” Orion hurries out of the room, closing the door softly behind them.

I lean forward and brace my elbows on my knees. Part of me can’t believe I’m doing this, attempting this, trustinghim. I finally say, “That blackmail information you have must be particularly damning if Circe’s generals would consider leaving her at this moment.”

“Oh, it is.” Icarus smiles slowly. “I just need a way to contact them.”

Surely you don’t trust this man after a couple days in his presence and one outstanding orgasm? Surely you’re not that much of a fool.

The voice might be my uncle’s, but it strikes right to the very heart of me. I was never particularly good at Olympian games, and that’s even truer since becoming Poseidon. In those first few years,I was outmanipulated by the rest of the Thirteen and those around them over and over again—until I stopped playing the game entirely. That’s the only way I could if not win, then at least minimize losing. “They’re not going to turn on her based on your say-so.”

His smile dims. “No, they won’t. Which is why I have plenty of evidence to support my information.”

Betting the entirety of Olympus on Icarus’s word is a terrible idea. I can’t do it. “I’ll think about it.”

His smile vanishes completely, and my chest aches at being the cause of it. It’s on the tip of my tongue to take my words back and tell him that Idotrust him, that I’ll get him a computer and whatever else he needs, but he speaks before I have a chance to walk back my words. “Sure, Poseidon. Whatever you need.”

17

Icarus

There’s no reason for Poseidon’s lack of trust to sting. He’s shown every evidence of being a smart man, and a smart man would never trust someone like me. Someone who was, until a few days ago, an enemy to him and his people.

But itdoessting.

As I follow him through the day, witnessing the way he interacts with his people, that awful feeling in my chest only grows. He shows every evidence of being a good person. He knows every single one of his people’s names. As we make the rounds, checking on the stations they’ve set up to keep watch on Circe’s people, he pauses to ask them about family members and friends, about spouses and children, to inquire on the health of sick people in their lives. So many little details, all stored in that impressive brain of his.

And they love him for it. It’s there in the way their eyes warm when they catch sight of him, the way their spines straighten as if they want to ensure they make him proud. It’s certainly there in the way their distrust for me blossoms when they catch sight of me at his back.

I didn’t know you could be a leader like this.

There’s plenty of shame inside me as I marvel at that realization.The rest of the Thirteen rule by an ever-shifting combination of fear and ambition and even lust. Hermes wasn’t wrong. It’s fucked. The leaders back on Aeaea mostly just rule by instilling fear. Fear and power, the combination that sends the masses to their knees.

But not Poseidon. Again, I wonder at how he came to take this title. I highly doubt he had anything to do with the death of his uncle and cousins, but even in my short time here in Olympus, I’ve heard about what kind of man his uncle was. He fit right in with the Thirteen, using his position to abuse and terrify those under his command—and even those who weren’t. To have him gone, replaced by this man?

Honestly, I’m surprised no one has slipped a knife between his ribs. It seems like offering the possibility of a different way of ruling is something the rest of the Thirteen would want to discourage. Permanently.

It’s what my father would’ve done. It’s what hehaddone, more than a few times over the years. Oh, he kept quiet about it. He had his reputation to protect, after all. He might have chosen to rule by fear, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be disliked. It’s a strange conundrum, but he danced at the knife’s edge with legendary skill.

Now the only place he’s dancing is his grave. My thoughts slow. Did he even get a grave? I have no idea. It didn’t occur to me to ask.

“Poseidon?”

He steps away from the pair of people he’s been speaking to in low voices and crosses to me, his expression concerned. “Is everything okay?”

It’s a testament to my conflicted feelings that I don’t laugh in his face. Nothing’s okay. It hasn’t been okay for a very long time.I’m not certain it’ll ever be okay again. But this is Poseidon. He’s not trying to be irreverent or sarcastic; he genuinely wants to know. Gods, he truly is too good.

It’s almost enough to make me second-guess my plan to seduce him until he’s emotionally compromised and chooses to keep me safe, to stand between me and any threat that will inevitably come. Almost. But my self-preservation is too strong. I thought I didn’t care if I lived or died, but apparently the drive to live is too strong. I always was a coward.

I swallow hard and fight against the instinctive desire to shy away from whatever answer I’m about to receive. “What happened to my father’s body?”

He frowns. “He’s in the morgue. There hasn’t been time to figure out a proper burial process, and Theseus wants nothing to do with the entire situation, but it didn’t feel right to ask you when things were still…” He motions vaguely.

“When I was still captive?”

“Yes, that.” He shifts closer and lowers his voice. “Obviously, sending him back to Aeaea isn’t an option currently, but if that’s something you want to do, we’ll see about preserving him until we can make it happen. If Olympus is—”

“I don’t care,” I cut in. Strangely, it’s even the truth. “He was a monster, and not even a redeemable one. The only reason he died is because he tried to kill me, and my sister defended me. So no, I won’t be carting him back to Aeaea, regardless of whatever his wishes might have been. Toss him in the dumpster for all I care.”

He frowns. “You don’t mean that.”

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