Page 35 of The Gods Forbid

“My decision to keep some of my feelings from others is not sacrificial.” It wasn’t. Just because I had personal issues asking for help didn’t mean I was willing to jump in front of an arrow for just anyone.

“And what would those feelings be?”

I was starting to understand Sebastian. He was comfortable with silence, and so it was moderately safe to assume that if he chose to speak, he had intended to say or ask whatever had left his disturbingly-full lips.

My inclination was to try to smile and give a non-committal answer. But if I expected him to open up to me, to be honest about his motivations and what led him to his actions, I needed to be honest too.

I breathed in, preparing myself for the small jolt of nerves that came with sharing something I normally kept to myself. My eyes stayed pinned to the horizon, my skin soaking up every bit of sunlight it could as I answered, “I was young when I took over.” I kept out the part about the last person who ran Prometheus and how he got a sick fascination watching people in pain. That was the only reason my parents even agreed to letting me step into the role so young. “People were doubtful. For a lot of years, I would try to do everything myself, proving that I was capable of doing it. It didn’t do me any favors stress wise.”

Even though I hadn’t intended to, I looked away from the horizon and turned to Sebastian. He was watching me intently, his eyes narrowed in focus. There was a distinct look people got in their eyes when they weren’t actually listening to you. A light glaze that made their eyes shine more.

Sebastian’s eyes were clear as day. Each color swimming in his pupils distinct from the other.

“I’ve been trying to get better,” I said quickly, realizing I’d let a few too many seconds pass in between sentences. And telling Sebastian I got distracted by his eyes was certainly not an appropriate explanation. “There are still some days where I get overwhelmed. I’m the worst with the people who have to stay in the old cells.” I shook my head, a chill running down my spine. “I just don’t understand how people can be so dedicated to cruelty.”

I’d seen so many people change. Or not even change, just understand that the choices they made in the past harmed themselves or others and embrace the resources we gave them to try to rebuild their lives in a way that fulfilled them.

The people who had no other priorities than watching people suffer were the ones that made my blood run cold.

“What do you mean trying to get better?” Sebastian asked. There was a touch of curiosity in his tone and it made my heart lurch with hope.

“I see a doctor once a week to talk things through.” The same doctor he’d be seeing tomorrow, but he was smart enough to infer that. “Part of that is talking about anything in the old cells that made me feel shaken up.”

“Like what?” Sebastian bit off, so harsh my back snapped straight under the force of his tone.

I felt my cheeks color with heat. My face had always been reactive. I’d never really minded it before, but something about Sebastian’s heavy observation made me want to try to hide it. “Um,” I began, then had to lightly clear my throat. “People get very angry. A lot of people call us every name under the sun. I don’t like to physically restrain people, but sometimes that’s necessary. One time someone—”

My words died in my throat when I registered Sebastian’s posture. His muscles were coiled up like a snake about to launch out of the grass and sink its fangs into prey.

“Go on, love. Finish.” I wasn’t sure that I should, given Sebastian looked two seconds away from popping the joint in his jaw out of place. Not to mention my body only seemed to register the tone he’d used and the words he’d said.

Trying to remind myself of the context before that image solidified, I answered him, “One time someone got ahold of my hair and tried to pull me in a cell with him. I was fine, but the worst part of it was his hands were still covered in blood. I was so busy, I couldn’t even wash it out until that night.”

Oh, no. No, answering him was probably the wrong idea.

If I wasn’t already scared of him, I would have been now. He was seething, his nostrils flaring and breaths heavy, enough that I wasn’t convinced he wasn’t about to start spewing fire.

“Sebastian—”

“He touched your hair.”

I blinked, trying to make sure I’d heard him correctly. “Well, yes. But it was—”

“He’s still there?”

I was trying to figure out the expression on Sebastian’s face, because the only thing that was registering was deep, unbridled rage. And that made no sense.

I swallowed thickly, the motion doing nothing to clear the tightness in my throat. “No. He died a few months ago.” He’d died in his sleep, going quietly down to the Underworld.

“Good,” Sebastian bit out.

I sucked in a breath that one might have described as a gasp. My mouth was opened to respond with something like I don’t wish death upon anyone, but Sebastian was standing and walking to the edge of the cliff before I had a chance to.

My feet were moving to follow him before I could figure out whether or not it was a good idea to stand next to a cliff’s edge with him.

You’re safe with him, a voice in the back of my head said, with such conviction I was forced to believe it. At least for now.

I wasn’t sure the swoop of my stomach whenever Sebastian pinned me with that multicolored gaze was going anywhere soon.