Page 84 of The Gods Forbid

“In the shower,” she said, her voice still scratchy and hoarse. Okay, that was an invitation. Fuck. Fuck.

I stood, turning and telling myself to get it the fuck together. There was no room for any sort of physical reaction on my part right now.

Her shower was huge, with a bench on one end and more knobs than any normal person probably had. I was going to have bad, bad thoughts about that shower.

Once I had her shampoo and conditioner in hand, along with a body wash that smelled sweet enough to chase away the acidic stench of food, I walked back to the tub.

Persy was shaking. That wouldn’t do.

I knelt back down, intending to ask her what was wrong, but my hand had a mind of its own. Before I could stop it, my left hand reached up to cradle the back of her head.

The shaking stopped.

Oh, absolutely the fuck not. If she thought I was the one who could steady her that was so, so dangerous. I wasn’t even—

My brain kicked in a second too late, my thoughts getting a little ahead of me.

It was my power, obviously. Some combination of the sun’s warmth and the power of healing that made her stop shaking.

I was just a hopeful asshole.

Pushing through the little flicker of disappointment curling in my chest, I pumped some shampoo into my hands. “Is it okay if I—”

“Please.”

There were suds working into her scalp a second later. I blacked out. As in completely lost myself from the moment my hands touched her head until the moment warm water was rinsing conditioner out of her hair.

There was life back in Persy’s face, though. Thank the Fates.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked as I worked a rag over her shoulders to carefully get the stain of something red out of her skin.

Persy nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not an appropriate answer to what I asked,” I said. There would be no apologies from her for this.

Persy smiled, a real one, that made me feel like the sun had just broken through one of the windows. “I’m really trying not to be embarrassed about this.”

“Don’t,” I said, my tone bordering on too harsh, but there was no world in which I would accept that this was a bad thing to do. Yes, she was naked but the bath had filled up and there was soap bubbling on the surface.

I was showing more skin, my chest and arms fully exposed.

“Thank you,” she said softly, and I was pretty sure my heart broke.

“What happened?” I asked. She knew I wasn’t asking about the logistics. I was asking about her.

She sighed deeply, her shoulders dropping an inch as she hugged her knees tighter to her chest. “I think it just caught me off guard. Normally, I can prepare myself to deal with people like him, but I was…”

“You were what?” I prodded, smoothing the washcloth down her back, the smell of her soap embedding itself in my memory. I’d recognized the scent, but now it was assaulting me.

“I was having a really good day,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She’d spent every second since waking with me. I couldn’t allow myself to read into that in the slightest.

“I hope he is going to rot in that cell for the rest of his life.” If I didn’t kill him myself for hurting her, that was the next best thing. Actually, that didn’t sound like a bad plan. Maybe if I killed him, I’d have to stay—

“He is,” Persy said, her voice sad, like she hated that was the outcome. “This wasn’t a mistake. This is who he is.”

I hummed in response, my skin growing slightly uncomfortable. Particularly the skin that housed those horrible tattoos.