Chapter 4
It turned out that Cronus might have been all good with the flying thing when he was outside an airplane, but when you strapped a centuries-old god into a metal flying bird, he suddenly developed a phobia.
“Your memories did not tell me it would be like this!” This was said at a dull roar, causing multiple faces to turn in our direction. “The only benefit of this death trap is that all of the steel is helping my wards, so we shouldn’t be attacked by my enemies. But still … this human-made beast does not feel safe. You’re a fragile human that will die if we hurtle from the sky.”
One might think he was concerned for my safety because he’d grown so fond of me, but the truth was, if I died, so did he. He was worried about his own super-fine ass.
The flight attendant leaned over; the seatbelt sign had just switched off and we were free to move about. “Sir, I assure you there is no safer way to travel.” Her smile was broad and overly friendly.
He lifted his head slowly, leveling a stare at her. She got her first glimpse of his blue and gold eyes and those ancient, hot-as-fuck Viking features, and her voice dropped into something more seductive. “Is there anything I can get you to help make this flight morecomfortable?”
Cronus didn’t look amused as he turned to me. “Prostitutes are plentiful in this time.”
We both glared at him, and the attendant huffed away, her straight blond hair flying over her shoulder as she stormed off.
“Stop calling women prostitutes,” I hissed. “Firstly, it’s not cool to slut shame. Secondly, you are reading it all wrong. Women have rights in this time … sort of. We do whatever the fuck we want and if that means sleeping with a hot guy, then so be it. This is not prostitution, it’s sexual freedom.”
“Uh huh,” he said, not at all sounding convinced. “I’ll reserve judgment on that.”
Shaking my head, I hit the button to lower the back of my seat. I needed about fifty more hours of sleep to function around this douchehat. “No one cares what you think anyway, dude,” I said with a yawn. “So keep your opinions to yourself.”
I closed my eyes, only to shoot them open again at a low, rumbling sound. Turning, I gulped at the sight of him. Face like it had been carved from stone, eye color swirling somewhat ominously, and a tic starting high in jaw as fury radiated from him. I swore he was actually throwing off heat—like a furnace.
Somewhere along the way, with meeting him in a drunken state, and finding myself on a plane to Greece, I’d forgotten that an actual scary-as-fuck god-Titan was attached to me. And while he couldn’t kill me, he could probably kill everyone else on this plane, and I shouldn’t antagonize him.
“Do you know who I am?” he said with soft menace. “My opinion is the only one that you should care about.”
“What I meant to say,” I started, swallowing roughly, “was that your opinion, while very important, is not relevant right now. Karen is here to serve us food and drinks and help us in an emergency. She’s someone we need. Let’s be nice to Karen.”
Something told meKarenwas going to spit in our food after the prostitute remark, but I’d deal with that later.
Some of the fire died from his face and I wondered how scary he was at full power. I leaned over and he seemed a little startled that I’d moved so close. “Why are your powers not at full strength?” I whispered, thankful the loud engines added an extra layer of obscurity to our conversation. “Is it because of me? Is my humanness bringing us down?”
Cronus’ stare was deadpan, and it was starting to hurt my feelings that he didn’t find me funny. I personally thought I was hilarious. And so did most of my Instagram followers.
With an annoyed huff, he answered, “It’s because I was stuck in the prison realm for so many years. It’s designed to drain the power of a god, which is the only way they could hold me. It will take some time to rejuvenate my energy.”
Huh, fancy that.
“Glad I’m not a burden.”
Cronus made a disparaging sound. “I never said that, human.”
I snorted. “Right, right, you’d kill me if you could, blah blah. Wake me when we get to Greece.”
His glare was back full force. “What is that? When you act like you’re joking but you’re not. You’re really being a bit—”
“It’s called sarcasm.” I cut him off before he could call me a bitch in public. Karen might be peeing in his apple juice later if she heard that one.
“I don’t like sarcasm,” he growled.
I frowned. “Bummer, big guy. That’s my first language. Night, night.”
Turning over, I gave the big oaf my back and tucked in for a long nap. Flying first class was totally worth it. We’d starve to death the second we landed, but completely worth it to be able to stretch out my legs with this down blanket.
#Humble #Blessed
In minutes I was fast asleep.
