“My brother is going to kill him if we can’t pull this off.”
Shock roots me in place. I play her words back through my head, but they don’t make any more sense now than they did a few seconds ago. “Impossible.”
“You’d be surprised. If Zeus wants someone dead, they’re not long for this world.”
The tone in her voice makes me think she’s not talking about this Zeus as much as the last one. Her father. The long shadow that poisoned so much of her childhood. The man who taught her that the only way to survive was to tread others underfoot. I don’t blame her for surviving; I’ll never blame her for that.
But sometimes, in the dark of the night, I wonder what it might have been like if her mother had lived. If her early years hadn’t been a training ground for what Zeus considered good leadership. If she hadn’t watched her father marry and then—allegedly—kill two more women.
“Stop that.”
I jolt. “Stop what?”
She gives me a knowing look. “You’re thinking dark thoughts about my father. He’s dead. He can’t hurt me anymore.”
If only that were true. I shake my head sharply. She’s right. This line of thinking isn’t helping anyone. I swallow hard. “Your brother can’t seriously mean to kill your husband.”
“I highly doubt he’ll do it personally.” She makes a face. “Then again, he’s acting out of character, so I can’t take anything for granted.”
The very idea of Zeus being off the rails is, frankly, terrifying. We survived under the last one because he was more invested in being a charming dictator than actively feared, though fear was an undercurrent to his reign. Perseus doesn’t have that charm. He’s not the kind of man who can tempt people to flock to his side and curry his favor.
If he goes this route, his only option will be to rule through fear.
“The Thirteen gave their word that Theseus would not be harmed as long as he went through with the marriage to you.”
“I know.” She drops her gaze. “This is the part where I say they likely won’t do it personally, so it’s a tiny loophole to giving their word, but… I know.”
Her resignation worries me as much as everything else we’re talking about. Eris is never resigned. She’s a fighter to her core, but there’s no way she could have anticipated this from her brother. “Tell me that your brother isn’t turning into your father.”
“He would never.” Her eyes flash. “All my father wanted was power over others. Perseus wants the same thing I do—for our city and our people to be safe.”
Maybe. Probably. But that doesn’t change the fact that Eris has already proven that she’ll trample individuals for the greater good. The Thirteen are supposed to be equal in power, but it’s not the truth. Hades. Poseidon. Zeus. They stand above the others as legacy titles. If one of them decides to truly abuse that power… I don’t know what would happen. “Eris,” I say quietly. “I know he’s your brother, but Zeus or not, he can’t go around murdering people.”
She doesn’t look happy. “I think you’ll find that he can do whatever he damn well pleases. Especially when he has the support of several key members of the Thirteen.” Eris shakes her head hard. “He’s not bluffing, Adonis. Whatever my feelings on his plan, the fact remains that we either have to take action or stand by while he makes me a widow.”
I drag my hands over my face. I knew having lunch with Eris would be difficult, but not even I could have anticipated the direction this conversation has gone. “I would think that would make you happy. Being a widow, I mean.”
“I would have thought so, too.” She leans her head back against her chair, leaving the long line of her throat exposed. There’s a faint mark there, one she’s almost successfully covered up with makeup. I can’t begin to tell if it’s from me or Theseus, but I recognize the heat that blooms in my chest in response. I’m not overly possessive by nature, but she was ours to take care of last night, and there’s something truly powerful about that.
“Eris…”
“I don’t want him dead.” The words burst out of her. She stares at the ceiling. “My life would be significantly simpler if I did. He’s a pain in the ass. He’s crude and violent and a threat to everything I hold dear.”
I wait, but she doesn’t immediately continue. Nothing she’s said is wrong. I feel the same way, which is why I know there’s more to it. “But?”
“But.” She exhales slowly. “I’m not one to care about a sob story, but he’s got quite the sob story. It doesn’t excuse what he’s done, but I understand it, and I resent that I understand it. He’s very bad at comfort, which is almost a comfort in and of itself, because he tries. With me, a woman he should hate.” She lifts her head and meets my gaze. “He also fucks like a dream.”
Yes, that about sums it up. Theseus is rough and downright vicious at times, but he’s not a one-note individual. “I don’t think you can turn him at all, let alone in three days,” I say quietly.
“Maybe. Probably.” She gives herself a shake. “But apparently I’m not quite the monster I thought, because I want to try. Pandora doesn’t like our odds, but she admits there’s a slim chance we could do it. Will you help me?”
Yes. Fool that I am, I want to try, too. No matter that he’s an enemy, or why he came here in the first place. I care about him and I want to help, and it’s enough for me to start to nod before I catch myself.
But I do catch myself.
Because Theseus isn’t the only barrier between us and a happy, peaceful future.
“What about you and me? If you manage to pull this off and we save him, where does that leave us?”
“Us.” She presses her lips together. “I’d like to ask you a question.”
I already know I won’t like it, not with her studying me so seriously, but I nod all the same. This is going to hurt, but so much of being with Eris hurts. I’m all but used to the experience. “Okay.”
She opens her mouth, pauses, and then seems to force the words out. “Do you think we worked on our own? Really worked?”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say that of course we worked. I love this woman, thorns and vicious ambition and all. I have for a very long time. I will continue loving her until my dying day, whether or not we’re together.
But the more I turn her words over, examining them from different angles, the more I wonder if there aren’t layers I’ve been intentionally ignoring for too many years. “What do you mean?”
“Far be it from me to pretend I know what a healthy relationship looks like, but I don’t think it’s two people crashing together and away again repeatedly over a decade.” She looks down at her hands, twisting her fingers in her lap. “I think neither of us were entirely honest with each other about what we wanted—what we needed.”
Blaming her for that would be so easy. She never cheated on me, but she also never waited long after our breakup fights to be photographed with others, and I know Eris well enough to know those photographs weren’t for publicity’s sake. She took those people home where the sheets were still warm in our bed.
But was I any different? My time with others hasn’t been as blatantly publicized, but I was hardly celibate during our breaks. If I’m going to be honest—and I can be nothing but honest right now—part of me was relieved for that freedom even as I missed her.
“What are you saying?”
She seems to force her hands apart. “I’m saying…” Another of those long exhales. “That neither of us is really built for monogamy, and maybe if we stop trying to cram ourselves into that box, we’ll be happier. Maybe if we try something new we can have some semblance of a steady, healthy relationship.” She shrugs. “It’s working out for my sister. Maybe it would work out for us, too.”