Page 35 of Axios

And I soared.

He came apart in my arms moments later, his whimpers and groans the only sound in the stables. Heat filled me right as he jolted and his stomach muscles quaked, and then he collapsed on my still trembling body, panting heavily.

Muskiness lingered in the air—the scent of our lovemaking and that of the livestock—and our sticky bodies clung together. He kissed my chest before nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.

I ran my fingers through his damp hair, feeling sleep beckon. My eyelids weighed, and I gave in to the drowsy haze, shutting my eyes and relaxing into him.

I finally believed in paradise.

It was right there with Eryx.

Chapter Nine

The next morning, I awoke to the sound of Eryx’s soft snores. He was still in the spot he’d fallen asleep—his left arm and leg wrapped around me and his face resting on my shoulder. The place where he’d penetrated me ached some, but it was bearable and acted as a reminder for what had occurred between us, a thing I could not quite put into words. Extraordinary, perhaps, but not even that explained the intensity of it.

We had remained entangled in each other’s arms the entire night. Never had I slept better.

Light streamed through the opening above us, hitting the other side of the stable and setting the pale shade of the hay alight with the sun’s rays. Noises stirred, both the animals amongst us and also voices seeping in from outside the walls.

Eryx’s steady puffs of air quieted as he shifted and opened his eyes. When his gaze focused on me, he half-smiled.

“It wasn’t a dream,” he said, his sleepy grin growing wider. “You’re here, and we’re together.”

Before I could rejoice in our rare moment of bliss, something dark clouded his eyes, and he jerked upward, scrounging around for his clothing.

“What is the matter, Ery?”

“Get clothed.” He grabbed his tunic and clumsily fastened it in his hurry. “We did not go back to the barracks last night.”

I stared at him, pondering why he was stating the obvious. Of course we hadn’t returned to them.

Then it struck me.

All youths were required to be in our assigned quarters each night. Any boy who veered from the stipulation would be punished, for obedience was of the upmost importance. Even married men couldn’t spend the whole night with their wives until age thirty.

Quickly, I followed his lead and snagged my clothes. Once we were dressed, we ran to the heavy, wooden doors and pushed it open, peeking outside.

“Should we attempt to sneak back unnoticed?” I asked, not sure if the plan would work, but it was worth a try.

It was still early in the morning, and the older men might not have checked our barracks yet.

Eryx cast a steely-eyed look around us before nudging me to follow him to the right.

Together, we darted behind the chicken coops and passed the hog pen, careful to avoid being seen. Although my nerves were a little on edge, I found exhilaration in how we were sneaking around. Once concealed by the next building, we waited for a group of women to pass before taking off again.

The grass was wet beneath my feet, as it always was in the early spring mornings, and as we ran, I hit a particularly slick spot and slammed into Eryx. As I fell to the ground, I took him with me, both of us hitting the earth and rolling partway down the hill.

When we stopped at last, I looked down at him, seeing the dirt upon his cheek and the grass in his golden hair, and I laughed.

“Ax,” he said, attempting a stoic expression but failing as his own giggles overtook him. “This is not getting us to our bunks.”

“No, but itisfun.” I didn’t move off him. Instead, I glided my fingers along his jaw, one that had lost the slight roundness of boyhood and had become sharp and strong. “We could run away and not return. Run to the city’s edge and just keep going.”

The words had begun as a lighthearted jest, but the more I talked… the more I wished them to come to pass. “Perhaps find a spot of land miles and miles away from here. Build a home and have a life. Just the two of us.”

Eryx watched me with a dipped brow. Questions swam in his green eyes, but he didn’t voice them.

And for a moment, something about his expression told me he wanted the same. That a part of him—buried beneath his sense of duty to Sparta and warrior mindset—yearned to leave this place and begin a new life away from bloodshed and war, a life where we would be free to be together without the very real possibility of death with the rising of the sun each morn.