Page 52 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows
“Jealous much?” he mocks.
But the look I give him—and the sudden stillness in my features—proves I’m not joking.
“Okay, okay,” he concedes. “Yeah, we text a lot, as you’ve noticed... as friends. We’re thick as thieves.” He chuckles, though there’s a flicker of unease in his voice. He continues, explaining how what began as a hookup evolved into a deep friendship, not love nor lust. “Even if we weren’t always miles apart, it wouldn’t work. We’re not compatible that way.”
He leans in, brushing a tender kiss along my jaw. “I wouldn’t share your bed if I had feelings for someone else. I might have been a fuckboy my whole life, but I don’t cheat. You’re my longest relationship, and yeah, I’m curious where it’s going… but planning the future?” His laugh is quieter, a little shaky. “That scares me shitless. Even so, I packed my stuff, so I’m free as a bird.”
“Good,” I declare. “Next, there’s one more thing we need to deal with.”
He juts his chin towards me, a silent invitation to go on.
“Remember when I said your soul needed saving—and that meant cleaning up your act? Well, here it is: you’re a thief, but this once I claim the right to decide it was for the right reason. However, you have to ditch every single penny you earned from Volkoff. He’s evil, and so is anything that came from him.”
“What?” In a heartbeat, he’s sitting up, glaring. He sucks in a breath, his gaze dropping to the sheets before finding mine again. “Easy for you to say.” His tone is measured, almost careful. “This isn’t just payday for me, Zagreus. It’s survival. Ensuring no one else ever has the power to pull the rug out from under me. You’ve got your endless magic and safety nets. I’ve only ever had myself.”
I roll onto my side, catching his wrist, unwilling to break our connection. He doesn’t resist, sliding back down until he’s level with me at last.
Yes!
“Come on, Théo, do I have to spell it out? I told you, if you keep the money, you could very well end up in Tartarus.”
“I remember,” he says, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth, “but I was a little more focused on seducing you at the time.”
“That worked,” I admit with a wry smile, “and I’m grateful. But this—” I gesture between us “—this is bigger than us fooling around. Tartarus isn’t a joke, Théo. Even Hades rarely ventures there. It’s a place of endless torment where souls are crushed beyond repair. And if you’re not sent there…” My voice wavers, a pang gripping my heart, but I push through. “Then it’s the Meadows—the place where souls wander in emptiness, lost and forgotten, without peace or purpose. Without even a memory of me.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my hand fastening around his arm before I can stop myself. “I can’t—” I force the words that follow. “I can’t lose you like that because I failed you and didn’t speak up. I’m not asking you to give up your freedom or rely on me. Babe, I’m asking you to, please, take one step towards a life you won’t regret when your soul moves on.”
Fuck, he didn’t want to think about our future, and I’m discussing the future of his soul!
I hold his eyes. “Please, give the money away. I know I sound like a selfish bastard—but I can’t bear the thought of losing you—not like that.”
Clearing his throat, he watches me, but the defiance I’m bracing for never arrives. Instead, he whispers, “I’ll think about it.”
It’s not the victory I wanted, but it’s a crack in the wall. Getting rid of what he stole would be huge; cutting off the rest of the dirty money will be even harder. No guarantee we’ll get there, but I’ll walk beside him every step.
I force a lighter note into my voice. “I’ve got your back, no matter what. We’ll find a better path for you… something that makes you feel alive without putting your soul on the line. You loved the café—why not culinary school? Anywhere in the world.”
That earns me a hint of a grin, thoughtful but guarded.
“What’s your next stop?”
“I’ve got an apartment in Paris. Rent it out when I’m touring, but I miss it. Was planning to spend my summer there with Noé. Haven’t seen him in forever.”
My stupid heart hammers in my aching chest.
He has plans with his French friend. Not a word about me.
Did I misread everything? Does what I confessed even matter?
Fuck.
There will always be another plan, another scheme, another thrilling step forward. That’s who he is—beyond his control.
But I’ve already lost him, haven’t I?
I hope my calm face hides the storm raging inside.
Chest heaving, he doesn’t break eye contact and scoots even closer, with one hand on my thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles. “What’s wrong?” His voice stammers. He worries his lower lip. “This isn’t goodbye, babe. I am not ready for this to end either.”
