Thalia’s feet had subconsciously led her back out of her chambers, floating down the hall until she stood outside of his closed wooden door. She knocked lightly, wondering if he would even be awake. They’d parted merely half an hour ago, yet Dimitris had all but dozed off standing up as he’d tied their letter to the Nexian hawk.
Light padding sounded from inside the room before the lock clicked and the door creaked open. Standing in the frame witha loose short-sleeved shirt and sleeping trousers, Dimitris rubbed at his eyes. He cocked his head to the side, letting his gaze drop to her feet and back up as if he was confused why she would be here. Reaching into the pocket of her cloak Thalia had forgotten to shed, she pulled out the jewelry box. It was now or never. She was finally ready to let someone in—let them see the fragments of her soul she tried to keep patched together.
“I—I saw it,” Thalia mumbled, barely able to get out the words as she stared up at Dimitris, holding the pin cupped in her hands. “What you had engraved.”
As quickly as she had finished saying the words, Dimitris’s expression changed from a sleep-induced stupor to narrowed and breathless. His hand went to her face, calloused palm caressing the side of her cheek. “I am glad you did.”
“Do you…do you mean it? What it says?” Her eyes met his gray orbs and her heartbeat stopped. The pools of silver resembled a tempest in the sea, a reckoning before the skies would open up and the sun would shine once more.
“You might not believe me, but I always have. From the moment I sat across from you at my father’s table in Nexos it was as if something in me snapped—like I knew you would ruin me, consume me, haunt me—and I had never wanted anything more.” He moved a step closer to her, his chest grazing against her body as he tilted her chin up toward him. “Stay with me,” Dimitris demanded—nay, begged. That pleading in his gaze was entirely apparent and Thalia was weak at the knees. “You do not need to say you feel the same—I do not expect that—but just stay the night withme.”
Dimitris let her go and walked back into the room toward his bed. Following him in, Thalia couldn’t help but let her mind wander to a world in which she did say it back—one where they shared hopes and dreams and tragedies.
“Just sleep…tonight I just need sleep.” Thalia paused, wondering if she had made the right decision—if letting herself be consumed by this man would be her downfall.
“I won’t lay a single hand on you,gatáki.” He smiled sheepishly, patting on the open spot next to him in the plush bed.
Slipping up to the side of the bed, Thalia leaned down. She was too far gone to turn back now. “I didn’t say you couldn’t touch me,fengaráki, only that it could not go further. Not tonight.”
Something strange seemed to flicker in his gaze as Dimitris met his eyes with hers—a relief of sorts, like the weight of the war to come was lifted and at this moment it was only the two of them here in the room, and that maybe this was all they would need to be happy. That he was happy to lay here with her beside him. A man deprived of her pure-hearted affection until now.
Or perhaps he was merely deprived of sleep.
“As long as you stay in my arms, sleep is all I need.” He turned onto his side and Thalia tucked herself into the sheets, letting her body form in line with his.
Her breathing finally slowed, mirroring Dimitris’s deep inhales as he nuzzled his nose against her neck, the light tickle of his breath lulling her eyes closed. In no world had she imagined she would take comfort wrapped in the embrace of the younger Prince of Nexos, but, gods, if it wasn’t where she belonged.
Chapter Twenty
Dimitris
Amix of lavender and pine had lulled him to sleep, calming every piece of his body as Thalia’s warmth tingled along his skin. But now, a blood curdling scream ripped through the air as Dimitris shot up in the bed. Beside him, Thalia writhed in the sheets, sweat pooling around her. He reached over, wrapping his arms around her, trying to shake her awake, but nothing worked. That scream just kept releasing from her throat over and over again as her milky sheened eyes shook at an ungodsly speed. This was not the first time Dimitris saw the seer bent and spiraling, unable to speak or hear, but it was certainly the worst of them. Glancing around the room, Dimitris searched for the small vial of potionthat Cal concocted, the one that was supposed to set her into a dreamless sleep until her body healed from one of her visions.
Gods dammit, he thought. They were in his room, not her own, meaning the vial was nowhere near them. Could he leave her to run down the hall and fetch the potion? Could he carry her there without injuring her? Would she wake on her own without it? He could not risk her convulsing in his arms, the fear of snapping a bone made his stomach turn. Shoving pillows along her side so Thalia did not roll off the bed, Dimitris raced to the door just in time to notice a heavy scratching on the thick wood. Flinging the door open, he peered down and his heart unclenched at the sight of Mykonos, the small vial he needed clutched between her teeth.
“You are a brilliant, brilliant littledaimon,” he exclaimed, reaching down and grabbing the vial while simultaneously scratching the top of Mykonos’s head. She let out a resoundingmeowin response. He would need to give her a proper thank you later, maybe an extra helping of fish at dinner.
Without a moment to spare, Dimitris raced back over to the bed, forcing Thalia’s lips open to pour the foul liquid down her throat. It would work in time, chilling her until she felt like nothing but ice beneath his palms. He would hold her until she was awake—until the pain faded. It wouldn’t be the first time Dimitris stayed with the seer as she healed—it wouldn’t be the last either. He only wished there was a way he could take away the pain from the beginning, that she didn’t need to suffer through this alone.
There was.
No. He cursed himself. It was too risky. To even think the thought was against everything he was taught by the pack. Not tomention the wrath Alexander would unleash on him if Dimitris even tried to enact thedesmós.
The tapping of the creature racing up to the bed pulled him back to the reality at hand. Mykonos launched herself onto the bed and curled up by the seer’s feet, paws hooked on top like she was hugging Thalia.
It had taken him some time to become accustomed to the creature, but he was glad that he had. The furry little thing had quite the personality, prowling through the halls searching for mice most of the time, and the other times she spent fiercely defending her human. At this moment, Dimitris could not be more grateful for the latter. Mykonos must have sensed Thalia’s pain and known where to go. It was strange, from all he’d learned about a seer’spsychí,the creature should feeleverythingThalia did. And yet, this time Mykonos seemed unaffected by the torment Thalia felt. Perhaps it was some will of the Fates, so that the seer had something to ground her to this realm, or perhaps there were other things Dimitris had yet to learn about thedaimons.
“It’ll all be alright now,” Dimitris whispered, repeating the phrase over and over again as he stroked Thalia’s hair. He bent down and brushed one soft kiss between her brows, eliciting a small twitch in one of Mykonos’s eyes. The creature did not hiss, nor did she pounce at him like she had many times before—thedaimonmerely remained steadfast in her hold of her human’s feet, though Dimitris thought it looked like she was smiling a bit as she took in his movements.
“So, you have finally learned I mean no harm to her,” Dimitris said to Mykonos as he nodded toward Thalia.
Once more, Mykonos did not move, but this time she let out a small sigh, blinking once back at him.
“You know, Mykonos, you could always put in a good word for me. She seems to listen to you more than any person.” He was talking to a cat—this was something new—but it was a much needed distraction as Dimitris waited for Thalia to wake once more, unsure of how long that would be. Last time she was this bad was on theAphroditeafter they’d learned Hades had risen. That time it took the entire night before her eyes fluttered open once more.
Mykonos narrowed her yellow eyes, letting out a chirrup, and Dimitris couldn’t tell if that was in response to his first statement or the second.
“I will take that as a yes, then.” He reached down and scratched under the cat’s chin and thedaimonreplied with a resounding purr, leaning into his touch.
