Page 60 of Touch of Death
“Is there any truth to what Death said?” I interrupt.
“You will have to be a bit more specific than that, mortal.”
“Are you trying to turn Death and me against one another?”
“I did not realize that was an optio—”
“Then it is also not true that you want me … you simply wished to get a rise out of Death, right?”
He frowns.
“No, I was being honest about that. I cannot and will not deny my desire for you, but I seem hardly to blame for Death’s reaction. How was I to know he would have such a visceral reaction to me asking about his feelings for you?”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitates, but I can see in the way his smile fades that he understands the meaning behind my question. I wait as he works out how to best to explain himself, not that I have much of an option.
Without Death, I am stuck here in this palace, if not this room.
“Because Death cares deeply for you,” Eros finally says. “More than I have ever seen him care for anyone or anything.”
“Then you aren’t simply trying to hurt me to get at him?”
“Of course not. I do not wish you harm.”
I narrow my eyes on him, hardly believing a word coming out of his mouth. If Death doesn’t trust him, I doubt I should either. I’m not interested in being told pretty lies simply to have another man, however beautiful he may be, try to bed me.
His expression grows serious, as though debating whether or not to elaborate on what he’s said. Eros steps toward me, reaching out a hand to gently tuck a strand of hair away from my face. He doesn’t even seem to mind that I flinch away from him at his touch.
Catching my chin, he forces me to look up at him.
“I meant every word I said,” Eros says, his voice low and velvety. “I will not harm you, but I will not pretend that I do not crave you in every way, and more than I have desired anyone before.”
“How can you say that?” I ask. “You’ve barely known me a day.”
“When you have lived as long as I have, a day is more than enough to know exactly what you want when you see it.” I can’t help but snort at his casual use of the term, and he seems to sense the irony of it. “Despite what you may think, I can see, just not in the same way you can. In fact, I daresay I can see more than most.”
The heat of his touch spreads through me, his voice melting over me in a way it hadn’t since the first day we were here. There’s no pretense to his tone, no arrogance, none of what I’ve come to know him as. There is only deep sincerity, yet I force myself not to give in, not to feed it. Perhaps this is just another one of his tricks.
Besides, I’ve obviously been wrong before; why should I trust what I’m feeling now?
“What do you mean by that?” I ask, drawing on what remaining courage I have as I search Eros’ face.
He blinks, seemingly taken aback by my question. I don’t let my gaze drop as I wait. It matters little how long it takes. There’s no chance of me getting sleep until I’ve come to understand this mess I’ve ended up in the middle of.
“It means that I have seen the true beauty of your soul without ever having lain eyes on you. It means you have captured me unlike any other I have ever known. I would know your soul amidst a thousand others, forsaking them to get to you.”
My frown deepens as I wait for some laugh or teasing smirk to pull at his lips. I get neither, as his expression and tone remain serious.
In a way, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by a confession like this from him. After all, as he said earlier, he is the God of Lust. Of course, he would tell me sweet nothings.
He wants to bed me. That’s his nature.
Perhaps I’ve been too harsh in my judgment of him. If Death truly has no feelings for me, why shouldn’t I enjoy Eros’ attention?
It may not be love, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t find some pleasure in it. If nothing else, perhaps doing so would finally help give me some clarity. Perhaps it will be what I need to let go of Death and these fantasies I’ve allowed to consume my heart and mind.
To go back to the life that I knew before I ever met him.
