Page 57 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows
“I’m not, so please don’t be. Being around you strengthens me.”
“Right back at you, babe.” Théo tightens his grip on the tote strap, tilting his head. His expression softens, and he brushes his fingers against mine, the briefest, smallest touch—but grounding yet again. And right there, on this Paris street corner, his hand travels to the back of my head, his fingers run through my curls, and soon his lips capture mine in the most reverent kiss we’ve ever shared. When we come up for air, he murmurs, “I love you, Zagreus, Prince of Hidden Shadows.”
I cradle his clean-shaven cheek. “I love you, too, Théodore Cassel, future certified pastry chef. With all my heart, body, and soul.” Loving this man and experiencing human sensations convince me I have a soul after all. I push the thought aside, so I exclaim, “Let’s go or we’re gonna be late to our own party!” I pull him towards our old stone apartment building and sprint up the flight of narrow wooden stairs that creak under our rushed footsteps.
We’re stopped in our tracks when we cross paths with our downstairs neighbors, locking their front door on the third floor. “Hey, Garcia,” we greet her in unison, then her younger husband.
“How was Greece?” I can’t help but ask the newlyweds, fresh from their honeymoon.
“It was great. Despite the season, we had stunning weather,” she says, checking if I’ve ever been there since she barely knows me.
My American neighbor’s name isn’t Garcia, but Emily Carter. The nickname stuck after Nino—her best friend—repeated it one too many times, arguing that the thirty-something resembles his favorite character fromCriminal Minds:Penelope Garcia. Of course, former grumpy Théo favors Aaron Hotchner while I root for Doctor Reid. I won’t argue the point when I meet the French Caribbean guy who sold his place to Théo a while ago. He moved to California to live with his American husband, Ashton, but they visit often; that’s how they got close with Théo. I can’t wait to discuss Greek mythology with said husband, who’s a die-hard fan.
“My whole family’s from Greece, but I’ve never been there.” Funny that I never even thought about visiting the country. From the look in her eyes, I can tell that she wants to inquire further but doesn’t want to pry and was about to head out anyway.
Sensing my sudden discomfort, my boyfriend swoops in to save the day. “I didn’t notice you guys were back. Not sure what your plans are for today, but you’re welcome to join us whenever you’re done. Noé and his new beau are coming over for lunch.”
Garcia turns to her husband. “Do you remember Théo’s friend? The hot firefighter from Normandy I was hoping to set up with Caleb now that he moved back here for work.” She shrugs. “¡Qué lástima!”
“Come on, you know as well as I do that your brother wouldn’t hook up, let alone date, anyone who doesn’t live in the same arrondissement as him. So, forget about Normandy!” I tease, having heard plenty about Caleb’s reputation. “But don’t worry, Garcia, you can still play matchmaker! Other guests will be here, too. I’m pretty sure the afternoon will be all about catching up.” I swivel my head to meet Zagreus’s eyes, asking for permission even though it’s technically my place.
He nods and suggests, “Tell you what—why don’t you two swing by later? Théo will introduce you to Marley and his friends. Marley’s Théo’s new best friend from Cordon Bleu. He recently moved to Paris. He’s American, hot, gay… and kinda nerdy.” My boyfriend chuckles at that. “What? It’s true!”
“Anyway, I bet Caleb would dig him,” he concludes, and we part, heading straight for our door.
Once our coats and boots are out of theway, our gazes drift from the entryway to one of my ancient paintings adorning the white walls of our living room.
Per usual, we exchange a smile, aware thatHidden Shadowssits to its left, tucked in a dimmer, less conspicuous corner. Per usual, our hearts somersault as we step into the small kitchen. Per usual, my broad frame complicates movement—but not that I mind.
Once theapéritifis laid out in the living room, the homemade Paris-Brest cools in the fridge, and the ratatouille simmers, Iglance at my man; his eyes light up, lips curving wider, a hint of pride in his gaze.
He takes my breath away; the air leaves me in a quiet rush as the lingering tightness in my shoulders dissolves. “You have no idea how much I love seeing you in your element. Happy. Beautiful. Peaceful.”
Théo glances at me with something unreadable in his gaze. “You know,” he starts, reaching my side in two strides. “That’s what I want us to be… until death do us part. Then, we’ll meet again for another round.” He plants a chaste kiss on my stubbled cheek. There’s no trace of sadness in his voice or on his face.
“Thank you, my love. I’ll do my best to grow old gracefully alongside you.”
He gives me a look, quirking a brow. “Oh? You sure about that? You’re pretty hot as you are.” He sighs. “I admit I won’t mind watching you age—artificially—while I wither naturally.” Again, he’s all matter-of fact, well-aware of how I can alter my appearance. “Of course, I’ll always be the hot one,” he jokes.
“You sure are, and always will be.”
Shaking his head, my boyfriend laughs, goes to the stove, and stirs the veggies once more before reducing the heat to low. “Almost done.” He pauses. “So, what happens next in this scenario?”
I squeeze his hand. “We live one day at a time. Hour by hour. Minute by minute, and enjoy the rest of our lives together. How’s that?”
A megawatt smile brightens his gorgeous face. “With that, I’d die a happy man. It really sounds…” He pecks my lips.
“Perfect.”
ONLY TIME
Epilogue
Zagreus
A lifetime or two later…
Paris vibrates with life as I sit outside at a small round table, the smell of roasted coffee thick in the air. It’s rather early, so not too crowded yet.
