Page 54 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows
Gawking, I shake my head, and my mind runs a mile a second. “Can you promise me something?”
His brow shoots up at the apparent change of conversation, but he says, “If it’s in my power, I’ll do anything for you.”
“Then, here it is: If you’re still mine when age or fate brings me down, will you show me your true self and speed my soul’s journey back to your home?”
His face falls when he mouths, “Okay,” then pulls me into a tight hug.
The thought of us being apart shreds my insides, even though we met just a few months ago. I’m sure he’d agree to disagree, saying it’s been an eternity, but I want more of Théo and Zagreus. That is why I came back without resisting.
As crazy as it sounded at first, I belong by his side, now and forever. And tonight, I owe him a party to celebrate our reunion.
Our summer has been an odd mix of peaceful and hectic—in particular August—and my mood improved… that is, until recently.
After two weeks with me and Noé, along with Nathan and his eclectic group of friends in Cape Cod, Zagreus flew back here, back to his work as an elevator operator, and back to Layla and Sheena’s company. Between protecting the world’s balance, meeting a human who happened to be his soulmate, and reclaiming his painting, he aimed to catch up with Layla, hislong-time friend, who he didn’t get to share enough moments with. The married owners of the Renversé Hotel welcomed him with open arms, although he had to pay a couple of visits to his father to fulfill his divine duties.
Kissing my forehead, his lips then quirk into a smile. Something softer spreads across his expression, unreadable yet familiar. The undercurrent between us never quite fades; it ripples in intensity, present for both of us, since our Monaco escapade. It grew even stronger when we reached the busy French Riviera, where we stayed in July, while managing to steer clear of the impressive number of tourists.
“Do you miss it?” I ask, my voice low. “The Mediterranean, the small cafés, the days we lost ourselves in the sun, naked, hidden in the secluded coves of Cassis?”
Zagreus hums, thoughtful. “Back then, I was ready to collapse from aesthetic overload, but I miss the light there. How it turned everything golden. I miss the turquoise water, and some of the food… If I’m honest,” he shifts, leaning in, “watching you so at ease, free of burdens, warmed my heart. Then, Provincetown happened.”
He’s right. Cape Cod was a different beast: as crowded as the South of France, but far more boisterous and people-y since we were amongst friends who—thankfully—clicked with us. Too bad he left before we did.
“Those two weeks were eye-opening, and I don’t mean only the unique atmosphere or seeing Nathan again. There, I caught a glimpse of a new you after reuniting with Noé.” We had a blast together after our prolonged absence. And, in the sea of people, Noé managed to run into a guy from his hometown in France, hooked up with him throughout, and ended up calling him“boyfriend material” which eased my guilt about the hours I gave to my own boyfriend. “You were happy. Your whole face relaxed, and the crease between your brows vanished. You looked… at peace.”
I swallow, startled by the sincerity in his voice. He speaks as if he’s memorizing moments, as if he’s seeing through me—like no one else ever has. My gaze falls, and my fingers trail down his wrist, tracing the veins there.
“I was happy,” I admit. His thumb caresses the exact spot he mentioned; had the crease reappeared at the prospect of dancing?
Either way, I revel in his touch, and suck in a breath as my dick takes notice of the sweet gesture. I blush. He parts his mouth, but I cut in, breath uneven. “I’ve never been this happy.”
He studies me, then smirks after breaking the contact. “Even though you’re being forced into a classic Regency ensemble to attend a masquerade ball as my date?”
I groan, covering my face. “Don’t remind me—that’s the source of my sour mood. If it were up to me, I’d?—”
“Let’s not go there again,” the teasing Greek god interrupts. “You’ve been very open about your opinion.” His grin betrays him. I twist so we’re facing each other. His knee presses against mine, and there’s something electric in the space between us. “But for one night, indulge me…please,” he murmurs, then catches my lips in a slow, lingering kiss. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a muted understanding between us, the taste of familiarity, and something deeper.
When we part, his thumb brushes my cheek, his touch reverent. “Let’s get ready!” He’s about to stand up.
“Not so fast.” I snatch his wrist so that he plops back onto the couch. In a swift move, I position his strong body beneath mine, his mouth close to my dick.
My tongue swirls around the tip. He mimics my every move, no doubt tasting my salty scent as I revel in his. Within seconds, I take him as deep as I can into my eager mouth, even though I can’t compete with his deep-throating skills. Hands are everywhere, skin set ablaze as we set a maddening pace.
Breath hitching. Cheeks hollowed. Head bobbing. We’re reduced to grunts, moans, and whimpers… until we can’t fight our earth-shattering orgasms.
The world holds its breath for a heartbeat, then we convulse as our release floods each other’s mouths, and my sated body folds onto his.
Panting, aching, and sweating, I declare, “Well, I’m ready! Or maybe after a shower…”
***
The early September air smells of ocean brine, clinging to the folds of my rented coat as we step into the hotel lobby, hand in hand.
His confidence in me is infuriating, invigorating, and intoxicating in equal measure. I lean in and deposit a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, savoring his cologne after our sexy, shared shower, and I promised him I’d behave tonight.
He shivers under my touch. “Eternityby Calvin Klein was my fragrance of choice last time I was on Earth,” he murmurs into my ear. “Little did I know that I’d find my own eternity during my next visit, thanks to you.”
The ballroom glows with revamped chandeliers that have LEDs embedded in every single crystal bead. The air is thick with the scent of polished wood, champagne, and something floral—jasmine, maybe, drifting from the elaborate arrangements by the entrance. The outer rim of the ballroom is punctuated with round tables with dark tablecloths.
