Page 43 of Sweet Obsession

As the silence stretches out, gaining a weight I swear I can feel against my skin, words spring from my lips, so quick I’m almost babbling. “It will take a little time for Deo to convince them to realize they don’t have other recourse and that the best option is to do what I want. They will all need to independently verify that I actuallydohave the blackmail I claim to. But theywilldo what I want and sail their asses back to Aeaea. Without them, it will be that much easier to sink Circe to the bottom of the bay like Zeuswants. It will be over.”

He sighs, a nearly soundless exhale. “Icarus.”

I hate how tired he sounds, how defeated. I want to fix it, but I’m at least partially to blame, which means Ican’tfix it. This is the moment when I retreat and realign to come at this from a different way. Poseidon’s already proven that he won’t hurt me—and that he’ll stop anyone else from trying. I just have to be patient, to sit through this uncomfortable silence. There’s absolutely no reason for the panic pulsing higher and higher as if it might expel itself right from my throat.

And then it does.

“Get on your knees,” I snap. Desperation makes my voice hard. I can’t stand this new distance between us, distance I’m responsible for. I have no right to this man, but I’m a selfish asshole and I’m not going to let that stop me.

“Trident.” He speaks the word softly, but it rings through the room like a bell. Poseidon straightens slowly, towering over me. “If you want to apologize for stealing my phone and going behind my back to make those calls, then apologize. But you’re not going to use sex to override my anger at you. It’s not fair.”

I stumble back and sit on the edge of the bed. It feels like he just sucker punched me. “But I’m helping,” I say weakly.

“I understand that you’ve operated a particular way your entire life. I even understand why, having dealt with your father for the last few months.” He bends down and snags his shirt from the floor. “I don’t expect you to trust me.”

“Then—”

“But if I am not going to put expectations on you, your reactions,and your feelings, then you’re going to give me the same respect.” He pulls the shirt over his head and gets to work stepping into his boots and lacing them up. He’s so calm, and I can’t stop shaking. I’m not afraid of Poseidon…but Iamafraid of him locking me out.

I don’t mean to hit my knees before him; I’m certainly not trying to reverse the failed order. It just sort of happens. I stare up at him, my heart beating so hard that it makes me dizzy. Or maybe that’s the panic continuing to spiral through me and outward. “I’m sorry. Poseidon, please. I’m so sorry. Don’t walk away from me.”

He slows and stops, his brows drawing together. He searches my face and I’m too upset to try to hide what I’m feeling from him. It’s strange to watch him process it because heisprocessing it. I knew Poseidon studied other people, but this is the first time I’ve seen him blatantly catalog someone’s features and expression and come to a particular conclusion.

He sinks slowly down to crouch in front of me and take my shoulders. “Icarus, breathe.”

“I am…breathing.” Sort of. My chest is too tight. I can’t think. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve been upset before but never like this. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He massages my shoulders lightly, his amber eyes concerned. “I’m sorry, too. I’m not angry only at you, and it’s not even fully anger. I dislike curve balls and Zeus just threw a particularly violent one. I’m upset.” He kneads the tight muscles where my neck meets my shoulders. “Inhale through your nose. Hold it. One, two, three. Now exhale slowly. Again.” Over and over again, he talks me through the simple act of breathing. Something I’ve been doing since birth but suddenly forgot how to do.

I don’t know how long it takes before the rushing in my brain eases. It could be seconds. It could be hours. But eventually, the strength goes out of my body and I slump forward. Poseidon catches me easily, sweeping me into his arms and rising. “Keep breathing, Icarus.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whisper. The pressure is still there in my chest, but at least it’s loosened enough that Icanbreathe.

“Panic attack.” He sits on the bed, his back to the headboard, and arranges me on his lap. “It happens.”

“Not to you.”

He huffs out a pained laugh. “Yes, it does. Not exactly like that. I tend to shut down.”

Shut down.

Just like he did earlier.

There’s a proper response to this, but I’m too fucked up to figure it out. “Oh,” is all I can manage. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the top of my head, his steady breathing soothing me even more effectively than his careful coaching had earlier. I don’t think he’ll keep going, preferring to retreat behind that wall of silence that I shouldn’t have pressed him to break, but he eventually says, “I don’t know what to do. Zeus’s plan isn’t a bad one, for all that it’s reckless enough to break the Thirteen. Hera is still determined to bargain with Circe, but I don’t see how Olympus comes out on top of that. It’s more likely that the people who will pay the price will be the ones who least deserve to.”

I allow myself to sink into him, to relax little by little. “Circewon’t bargain. I don’t know what she told Hera, but she won’t accept anything less than the ultimate destruction of Olympus.” I know her story as well as anyone, so I don’t exactly blame her for hating the city that let her be hurt even before it believed she died and moved on as if nothing had changed. The city that watched impassively as the same thing happened to her predecessorandthe woman who held the Hera title after her. Three Heras, all rumored to be dead by the last Zeus’s hand, and no one did a single damn thing to try to stop it. If I were her, I’d want to burn this place, too.

I certainly have similar thoughts about Aeaea when I go to a particularly vengeful place.

I don’t hold any great love for this city. It’s been kind and cruel to me in turn, and it shares equal responsibility as Minos in abusing my sister. I shouldn’t care one way or another what happens to the people here. I’m not like Ariadne, too good for this world, determined to minimize casualties in every way she could manage. I’m the selfish sibling, the indolent one looking for his next pleasure to numb the pain of never being good enough. If anything, a full-out battle should give me the opportunity to slip my captor and escape to keep my promise to Ariadne.

And yet…

If the city falls, Poseidon will fall with it. He doesn’t have a navy, but he’s not one to lead from the back. He’ll fight even though he’s not a warrior, and he’ll die in service of a war he doesn’t even believe in to protect the innocents he feels responsible for. All while the rest of the Thirteen argue and politic. I’ve only known him a short time. The thought of him dying shouldn’t bother me—but it does. Deeply.

Which means there’s only one play.

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