Page 46 of Becoming Monsterous

I come to Ellie's rooms early. The shower is running, and I smell it. Aleron's darkness. It hugs the curtains and reclines on the bed, draping over the heavy musk that Angus left behind. Ellie's cheeks are red as she comes to me, her hair smelling freshly of conditioner.

Amused, I wonder if this is what it's always going to be like. The three of us taking turns. I don't think I would mind that, but part of me will always wonder how I stack up. It's the flaw in my otherwise perfect interior.

"Let's go," I tell Ellie. "Time to research and brainstorm."

I don't mention the smell of sex on her, or the sound of Aleron showering in the next room. None of it matters.

She's with me now, and soon I'll make her forget all others.

"Are we headed to the research library?" She asks as I lead her out into the hall. "Am I... still allowed in?"

I flip my hand in the air. "Percy may want you gone, but he's not going to break our rules. Not just yet. We're at a stalemate—that means pretending that warisn'tabout to happen. At least on the surface."

"Sounds... exhausting. And frightening."

I chuckle at that. "Oh, it is. Now just imagine doing that for centuries."

She blanches at that. "I'd rather not."

Fair enough. "Don't worry, Ellie. I've got your back, one hundred percent. I won't let Percy or the other summoners fuck with you—if they even try, they'll have hell to pay."

I mean it, and this seems to soothe and reassure her. No one will fuck with my girl. Especially the Magistrate.

Of course, I can't fight him physically if he steps out of line. But I can certainly tell him to fuck off.

We head to the research library together. This time of day, in the middle of a conflict between the monster houses and the summoners, it's nearly empty.

"This way—the myths and legends about the gods are in these stacks." I take Ellie's elbow in my hand and draw her further into the library. "If there are any answers for us, they'll be here."

Ellie looks around at all the books in wonder. Walking down the open aisles, her delicate fingers trace book spines and stir up dust. She's so beautiful, so vulnerable and strong at the same time. It's impossible to take my eyes off her.

Drawing to the middle of the aisles, she stares in curiosity at a mirror propped up on a small, low marble pillar. "What's this?"

"A magic mirror." She draws close to it, pressing a fingertip to its surface. "It shows you your inner desires."

Ellie blushes scarlet. "Can—can you see that? What I'm seeing?"

I look into her face with amusement. "No, though I can guess."

We draw further on. I glance into the mirror once, and feel no shock or embarrassment about what I see. After all, it's exactly what I expected: an image of me bending Ellie over and thoroughly screwing her into oblivion.

"Tell me more about the history of the gods," Ellie says suddenly. "Why did they make mortals if they'd already made you?"

"I don't really know," I confess. "I suppose they were bored, but some things pre-date my time. While we're called theFirstChildren of the Gods, most of us were born after mortals were created. It's our parents who truly came first."

I wonder often why mortals were created. Looking at someone like Ellie, I can understand the appeal of humanity. But then the summoners force us to travel to Earth and do their bidding, and all I see is darkness.

Hatred. Shame. Guilt and fear. Humans are complex creatures who, underneath it all, are mostly selfish by design.

"I guess the gods had their reasons... maybe if I had more of Aphrodite's memories, I would know." Ellie finds a book about love potions and takes it off the shelf. "For now, maybe we should stick to researching about love. It seems easier to understand than deities."

I smile in amusement, because I'm not sure that I agree. But this is Ellie's problem to solve, so she gets to decide how to solve it.

We gather as many books about love as we can. I pick a few about Eros, Aphrodite's son, and the cupids, her devoted followers. Maybe some of them know the secrets to loving someone who hasn't earned it.

We gather our books together and bring them to one of the long tables in the middle of the vast library. Ellie sits primly and opens up a small journal. I pick a book of transcribed oral histories written during Roman times and summoned from the burning library of Alexandria. Its pages still smell of smoke.

Our knees brush up against each other beneath the thick oak of the long table. Putting my hand on her thigh, I draw it further and further up with every second, never taking my eyes off the page beneath me.

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