Page 106 of For the Love of the Gods

“Are you okay?” Rose asked after I let out a satisfied groan.

I shook my head tersely. “No.”

Rose nodded and didn’t push it, just looked at me with genuine care in her eyes for another second and then started eating.

“Thank you,” I said again. “For taking whatever Raiden gave you.”

Rose looked down at her lap and I brushed her hair back off her shoulder. “You heard that, huh?”

“Sure did.” I squeezed her shoulder lightly. “Why?”

Rose gave me a soft, beautiful smile. “It seemed like work would be a reminder of your authority. And how you got it.”

She articulated something I never could. And the guilt flared a little. Along with something deeper, stronger. Something that made me drop another kiss down on her mouth in silent gratitude.

“You said you make soup on the day your mother died,” I dared to ask when we were almost finished eating. “What about your father?”

Rose flinched. A restrained one that she caught at the last second. But I felt it on her shoulder.

She breathed in, dragging a long inhale through her nose. “Nothing.”

The word was harsh and final and made me think back to Odell’s description of her father’sparticulartraining methods. A punch of anger hit me in the stomach on instinct.

It was a raw sort of honesty, to voluntarily open the door to her father. I didn’t press but I asked. “And your brother?”

Maybe not saying his name would make it easier, not as terrifying. She’d almost told me at dinner earlier in the week. I could see it in her eyes, in the way she steadied herself with deep breaths. But pushing her wouldn’t help.

Rose’s eyebrows scrunched up in the center, her eyes softening under her lashes as she considered my question.

Pain. She looked in pain. The anger flashed again, so I smoothed a hand down her back.

“Tell me.” A hoarse whisper. “Even if it's awful. Tell me.”

Rose breathed in, her cheeks painting a pretty pink. My own breath stilled, my hand curling over her ribs possessively, tucking her into the safety of this conversation.

She opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then started again. Looking directly into my eyes, she said, “I make his favorite sandwich and go down to the Lethe. There’s a large cypress tree there.”

I knew the one. Pine always used to say that was his favorite place in the Underworld. Rose loved her brother, that much was clear. And now dread filled my chest at what the real explanation was.

But Rose seemed like she wanted to talk about it, so I moved forward, treading as carefully as I could. “Pine loved that tree.”

“So much,” she said through a laugh. “Whenever I couldn’t find him at the house I knew he was there.”

I stayed silent for a moment, then she spoke again. “He’s um…I buried him there.”

My chest constricted with grief. “That’s where he should rest.”

Rose nodded, like she needed to hear that. Needed to hear that she did something right and that sent a knife straight into my heart. The pain in her eyes twisted it in even more.

“You buried him?” I asked.

The pain shining in her eyes as she said, "No one else would," made me want to burn the world down.

“But you did,” I said, brushing my knuckles over her cheek. “You made sure he was at peace.”

Rose shrugged, one of her perfect shoulders lifting up. She even doubted that. She considered me for a moment and I almost broke under the trust in her gaze. “You have had a rough day. You should go to sleep.”

She was right. Somehow, Iknewthat she would tell me what happened if I asked. That was enough for today. I was drained, exhausted. And today had done nothing but solidify that all I needed was her.

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