Electric Idol(Dark Olympus #2)(86)
She’s right. I know she’s right. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to pull this car over, shove my hand up her skirt, and make her come until she forgets there was even a possibility of a marriage to Zeus. It’s not rational, and it’s damn near unforgivable with our current situation. I need to be focused on the future, on dealing with my mother’s next attack, rather than what might have happened if Aphrodite’s jealousy and rage hadn’t gotten the best of her. I do not need to be picturing a wedding between my wife and Zeus. I sure as fuck don’t need to be thinking about the wedding night, either. He’ll be intent on securing his heir and a few spares. Zeus is one of three titles—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—who are passed from parent to eldest child.
The thought of Psyche’s belly gone round with pregnancy…
No, I can’t afford to think about any of that shit right now.
I make an effort to lighten my grip on the steering wheel. She’s mine, at least for the time being. I have to keep my promise to ensure she’s safe, which means focusing on the next few steps instead of what could have happened. “Where are we headed?”
“We have an interview.” She glances at her phone. “And then we’re going to speak with my mother.”
Demeter.
Another powerful, dangerous woman who’s only too happy to use her children as pawns in the Olympian power games. Yes, I have some things to say to Demeter. “Okay.”
“Eros.” Psyche reaches out almost hesitantly and touches my arm. “I need your head in the game. Are you with me?”
“Yes.” It’s even true. I’ve been compartmentalizing since I was a child. It’s nothing new. My end goal hasn’t changed, though now it’s expanded to ensure that Zeus never touches Psyche. I can’t tell her that, though. She’ll say that I’m being irrational, that it’s a moot point because our marriage has ensured he never will.
I don’t care. I have no right to this jealousy, especially when Psyche is mine in every way that counts, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to brand my presence on her very skin. The more time I spend with her, the harder it is to control my baser urges. I feel like I have a monster inside me, rattling the cage of my control. Eventually it will break out, and then there will be a price to pay.
“Eros.” She’s quiet for several blocks before she takes what sounds like a fortifying breath. “It doesn’t matter what I would have done if my mother reached her goals. It didn’t happen. I married you, not Zeus. I am your wife, not his. I’m committed to seeing this through, so please stop thinking whatever is going through your head right now. We need Zeus’s support, and these circumstances have already ensured that it’s going to be nearly impossible to pull that off.”
I’m committed to seeing this through.
I know she’s talking about what is essentially our con. Marriage for as long as it takes to keep her and her family safe from my mother. She’s not talking about forever.
But just for a moment, I really wish she were.
I’m not a dreamer by nature. I like facts and reality rather than the fantastic version of what could be. The fact is that Psyche only said yes at that altar because I forced her to. She didn’t choose me; she never would have chosen me if given her freedom.
It doesn’t matter. I won’t let it matter. I’ve already decided to keep her, and now all that’s left is paving that path forward between us. I want Psyche in my bed forever. I want the possibility of years spinning out between us, of new schemes and games and playing the public of Olympus to our whims.
I want…children.
The thought staggers me. It’s not something I’ve put much consideration into. My father isn’t around—Aphrodite doesn’t allow for any competition, even in parenting—and my mother is hardly a perfect specimen of what good child-rearing looks like. Up until this point, I’ve always taken for granted that our line would end with me.
Not any longer.
I cover Psyche’s hand with mine and give her a little squeeze. “My head is where it should be. We’ll see this through.”
And after?
After, I’ll convince her that forever could be ours.
28
Psyche
The interview is a nice distraction. It’s so normal in the midst of a situation that’s anything but. Eros manages to pull himself together enough to be charming, but I know him well enough now to recognize that he’s a little off. It’s a disconcerting realization, both that what happened with Zeus was enough to throw him off his game and that I can see the signs.
As agreed, Clio keeps to the subjects we outlined when I set this up. It’s mostly softball questions about how we met and the wedding itself. A fair exchange for being the first to break with an interview. Most of the time, Olympus cares less about the real story than about whatever spin they want to put on things, but Clio isn’t too bad for a reporter. I’ve known her since before she got her most recent promotion, and we’ve helped each other out countless times over the years.
She’s a curvy Black woman with an impeccable style. Today she’s wearing loose pleated gray trousers and a sleeveless cream blouse that does wonders for her silhouette. If I’m not mistaken, I recognize Juliette’s work. It seems she took my advice to try the designer out. Good.