Page 42 of Desired By Eros

He sat up slowly, his wings stretching around them, cocooning them both in a soft, protective embrace. He pulled her close, murmuring soothing words as he held her. “It’s okay. I’m okay,” he whispered, his voice steady, though there was still a hint of pain in it.

The sensation of being wrapped in his wings, feeling his warmth and strength, helped her regain some sense of control. She focused on her breathing, on the rise and fall of his chest, until the tears slowed and her body stopped trembling.

It wasn’t until she felt herself calm that Eros spoke again. “Are you naked because you shifted, or…are you telling me something else?”

Psyche groaned, burying her face against his chest in embarrassment. “You can’t be joking about that right now, Eros,” she muttered, her voice muffled.

He chuckled softly, rubbing her back in soothing circles. “I’m sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

She sniffled and looked up at him, still feeling everything that had happened, but also oddly comforted by his presence. “Don’t joke about that right now,” she said, her voice quieter but with a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Okay, I won’t,” Eros nodded, the teasing fading as he gave her a serious look. “You’re safe now.”

He winced as he tucked his wings away, and took a deep breath before saying, “Hold on.” He quickly pulled his ripped shirt off and gently draped it over her, the fabric falling to her mid-thigh, practically a dress on her petite frame.

“There you go,” he said, adjusting the shirt around her. “Let’s get you back to your place.”

Psyche frowned, her eyes scanning him carefully. “What? You’re hurt,” she said, her mind working quickly. “You’re going to have bruising, maybe a cracked rib from being hurled against the wall…concussion symptoms…dizziness…You should really be resting.”

“Come on, I’m fine.” Eros let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by her analysis. “Get your stuff and let’s go.”

She got her things and didn’t argue as he stepped forward, extending his arms to pick her up. Warmth spread through her chest as he effortlessly cradled her against him. He stepped outside and lifted them both off the ground, soaring into the sky.

The wind rushed past, and she allowed herself to relax. It was hard not to feel better with him so close, his heartbeat steady beneath her cheek. They flew swiftly, and before long, they were at her place.

Eros set her down gently by the couch but didn’t let go right away. He looked at her, a hint of concern in his gaze. “Get cleaned up. I’ll be fine here,” he said, though his voice betrayed a small trace of exhaustion.

Psyche narrowed her eyes, walking toward the bathroom. “Don’t fall asleep,” she warned.

“Okay,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“No,” she insisted. “Promise me. I need you awake.”

“Okay, I promise,” he said, giving her a mischievous smile. “Now go.”

She made her way to the bathroom to clean up, taking a quick shower before starting the tub to fill with hot water. When she returned to the living room, she saw Eros sitting on the couch with his eyes closed.

“You promised not to sleep!” she exclaimed.

Eros opened his eyes slowly, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Psyche rolled her eyes but was happy to see him smirk at her. “Fine, whatever,” she said, crossing her arms. “I drew you a bath, so you can soak. You’re not going anywhere until you do.”

“That’s a good idea,” he said. He walked past her, and she couldn’t resist pulling him into a tight hug.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” she murmured, burying her face in his chest.

Eros’s arms wrapped around her, his voice soft. “Me too.”

Chapter 8

Eros

Water lapped against Eros’s skin as he leaned back against the tub. His muscles ached, a dull soreness settling deep in his shoulders. That was a relief—especially considering how easily he could have been killed. Mortality had a way of making everything feel more fragile and more uncertain. The bear attack had been a brutal reminder of that.

A slow exhale left him as he sank deeper into the bath, letting the heat work through the tension in his body. His thoughts drifted back to earlier—before the bear, before everything had spiraled. Psyche had been acting…off. The way she spoke to him, the way her expression shifted—like there was something she wasn’t saying. The feeling had been elusive then, just out of reach, but now, as he replayed the moment in his mind, it nagged at him.

And then, before he could figure it out, the bear had come crashing through the trees, and everything had gone to hell. Hehad blacked out before he could do anything. If Psyche hadn’t been there?—

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