I tilt my head back to look at him. “And what message is that?”
“That you’re mine,” he replies without hesitation and kisses me deeply.
I should object, but he’s right, and we both know it. I’m his.
Orpheus breaks the kiss, and I rest my forehead briefly against his chest, feeling the steady strength there. The way he’s still watching the room even while holding me.
I feel claimed. Safe.
When I start to believe we might make it through without incident, a hand grabs my arm hard.
I’m yanked backward into the shadows of the club violently.
My heart slams into my ribs.
I know that scent.
Talos smiles at me from the dark, eyes bright with something cruel and familiar.
“Miss me?” he murmurs. “I told you I’d find you.”
Before I can scream, the world explodes.
“You don’t get to touch what’s mine.” Orpheus is there in an instant, fury incarnate, slamming into Talos with bone-shaking force.
They crash through a table, glass and liquor spraying like rain.
The club erupts into chaos.
Talos laughs as he fights, metal flashing in his hands, divine fire sparking where their blows connect. “She’ll never be yours.”
Orpheus’s voice is a growl pulled from the depths of hell itself.
They collide again, power cracking the air between them.
Two half-gods locked in combat.
I realize, with cold certainty, that Valentine’s Day has just become a battlefield.
Chapter
Twelve
Orpheus
The first thing I realize is that Talos is not mortal.
I know it the second my fist connects with his jaw, and the impact doesn’t cave bone the way it should. Instead, the air cracks. Power snaps back at me like I’ve punched something that punches back.
We collide again, bodies slamming into the center of the dance floor, sending patrons screaming in every direction. Tables shatter. Glass rains down. Music cuts out mid-beat.
Good.
Clear the field.
Talos grins through blood that isn’t quite blood, eyes bright with molten heat. Divine fire crawls under his skin, lighting his veins.
“Still playing king,” he taunts. “Still pretending you rule alone.”
