Page 30 of Aïdes the Unseen
She arched.
I stilled.
“More,” she whispered.
And I gave her everything.
Later, her head rested against my chest, and my arm curved around her bare waist like instinct. The fire was almost out. Still, neither of us slept.
Outside the chamber, soft paws padded across polished stone. A low whine. Then asnort.
She lifted her head.
“What is that?”
“Kerebos,” I said.
Sure enough, the pup, a mass of too-large paws, oversized fangs, and fur like midnight silk, trotted in. Only one head for now, still growing, but the promise of three burned in his eyes.
He looked up at her and gave a pleased littlehuff.
Then promptly laid down by the bed like he’d always been there.
She laughed, warm and real and open.
“You never told me you had a dog.”
I let my hand trace her spine. “He’s more than that. He guards the gates. He knows who belongs.”
She glanced down at the curled form beside the bed. “He seems to think I do.”
“He’s not wrong.”
They came,of course.
On the third day.
First, Hermes.
He didn’t knock. Heappeared,a ripple of winged impatience and shifting silver.
I was already at the gates.
Kerebos snarled before I spoke.
“She isn’t yours to retrieve.”
Hermes narrowed his eyes. “Zeus will not let this stand.”
“She crossed freely.”
“She’sDemeter’sdaughter.”
“She isherself.That is the name she answers to now.”
He hesitated. Then, smiling, clever, dangerous, he said, “You’re in love with her.”
I didn’t deny it. I didn’thaveto. I simply said, “Tell your king that she isnot gone.She is not aprize.She isbecoming.And if they cannot bear it, they can rot.”
