Seth lay on the bed. A blanket had fallen to his waist, as if he’d tossed and turned at some point. He wasn’t in a hospital gown. He was wearing the black thermal I’d last seen him in.
The door swung shut behind me as I walked to his side. A faint blue bruise covered one side of his forehead, just above the eyebrow. His hair was down, falling perfectly around his head while I knew mine was a tangled hot mess. There was a cut on his lower lip, another reddish bruise along his right cheek.
But he still was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
My chest rose and fell raggedly as I stared at him. He’d come for me. He’d fought for me, and had taken a brutal, vicious beating for me. And I’d heard him scream for me when Apollo’s blade had struck.
Emotion swirled in my chest, potent and consuming. I didn’t know what it meant, or maybe I did, but just didn’t want to give a name to it yet, and that was okay, because I was here, and so was he.
Even knowing I should probably let him rest, I still couldn’t stop myself. I reached out and touched his arm.
A shock passed from him to me, jolting through my body. Before I could pull back, his eyes flew open, bright and golden, and his other hand snaked out, wrapping around my wrist. The jolt came again, stronger as it zipped through my veins.
Then I saw them.
From where his hand was wrapped around mine, shapes begin to take form on his skin, forming patterns that my eyes tracked as they swirled and shifted up his arm and then to his neck, and onto the side of his face. They were tattoos that moved and constantly shifted, forming different designs.
Amazingly, my brain started to sort those glyphs out, reading them—understanding them, and well, that was odd, because I couldn’t read Greek, but I knew these symbols were definitely of Greek origin.
Strength.
Invincibility.
My gaze shifted as his chest rose and fell sharply. “I can see them,” I said, awed. “The marks of the Apollyon—I can see them.” Seth moved so quickly.
He shot up as he pulled me forward, tugging me off-balance. One arm went around my waist, and muscles in his arm tensed as he lifted me up. My legs went flying as he twisted me around.
Air rushed out of my lungs as I was suddenly on my back, in the bed. He was half on his side, half on me, and my heart pounded as I rose onto my elbows. Then he shifted, one hand curling around my chin, guiding my head back against the pillow.
“Seth—”
His mouth was on mine. There was nothing questioning or tentative about the way he kissed me. It was demanding. Fierce. My lips parted with a moan, and he took the kiss to the next level, slipping his tongue in, twisting it around mine. I tasted him on my tongue and every place his skin touched mine, I was hypersensitive. My skin tingled and my body burned to feel more of him, for there to be nothing between us.
It had been crazy intense between us before, but this…this was something different, stronger and intensely raw. One of my hands curled into his hair as the other slipped under the sleeve that had pushed up to his elbow. I could barely breathe around the kisses, around the way he drew me into him. I yanked on his hair, and the kisses turned deeper somehow, and I never wanted to stop.
And then he lifted his mouth enough that his forehead rested against mine, and his breath broke on my swollen lips. “Seth,” I whispered his name this time.
He moved onto his side and the hand at my chin dropped to the neckline of my gown. Without saying a word, he yanked it down, and cold air rushed over my chest.
It quickly became obvious that he was checking for the knife wound, but my body had a different, more sensual idea. A flush swept over my skin, and the tips of my breasts tightened.
I bit down on my lower lip as he ran a finger along the odd scar—along Apollo’s mark. My toes curled and my hips twitched. It was a difficult task to breathe as his finger moved beyond the scar and he dipped his head. The edges of his hair brushed over my breasts, creating a crazy rush of sensations.
Seth kissed the center of the mark, causing my heart to explode into a gooey mess. Then he lifted his head, pulling the top of the gown up, tucking it back in place almost reverently. “You’re a demigod,” he said hoarsely.
It was the first thing he said.
“Yeah,” I replied, my voice breathy. “Is that…um, okay with you?”
His gaze flicked up to mine, and he arched a brow. “Do I need to kiss you again?”
My lips twitched. “Maybe.”
He cupped my cheek, spreading his fingers out. “How are you feeling?”
“Okay. Better than before. What about you? I didn’t mean to do…well, whatever it is that I did, but when I saw you down, I thought I—”
“No. I’m fine.” He pressed a finger to my lips for a second, and then dragged it over my lower lip. A tense minute passed. “Did he hurt you in any way I can’t…I can’t see?”
My stomach tumbled and a shudder danced over my shoulders. I didn’t want to think of the time with Hyperion, of the things he’d said. “No.”