Page 18

Chapter eighteen

T he trip to Odelle’s apartment was quick, aided by the fact that it didn’t happen on horseback. Once they were there, Odelle fished the legs Antony had made her out of the back of her closet, finally able to look at them without reopening the wound to her pride Antony’s words had caused at Christmas. As she strapped them on, reveling in how they morphed perfectly to her form, she considered that her pride had wreaked a lot of havoc on her life recently. It caused her to jump to conclusions about a man who had never treated her with anything but kindness, and urged her not to call Nora for help when the Shadows closed in on the crown. One of those mistakes had been rectified, but the other still hung over Odelle’s head like the sword of Damocles.

From Odelle’s apartment, they headed to the Sanctuary. She texted Nora and Thad on the way to meet them there. When the entire group was gathered in a sunny courtyard, Odelle finally felt the last flickers of adrenaline fade from her bloodstream. Nobody was injured, although confused expressions adorned many faces.

“Did you encounter any Shadows out in the city while we were restoring the signal?” Antony asked.

It was Adam who spoke first, with a shake of his head. “That’s the odd thing, we couldn’t find any. I would have expected them to be hiding around every corner, instigating violence and fanning the panic into full on riots, but they were nowhere to be found. Maybe it was just a coincidence.”

“Definitely not,” Odelle cut in. “We encountered enough Shadows on our way to the antenna to make it clear that this was their doing.”

“And why didn’t they use the crown?” Adam asked. “It seems odd that they would go to so much trouble to get their claws on it, only to not use it in their next big play.”

“They would be using the crown to corrupt humans,” Antony pointed out. “We only saw Shadow creatures. If they were using a human for their plan, I would have expected the sabotage of the antenna to be more physical, but the Shadow just blocked the energy with its own power.”

“Maybe you restored the signal fast enough that the Shadow didn’t get to enact its entire plan,” Thad speculated.

The group fell silent, everybody’s brains churning and none producing answers. Odelle couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something obvious about the Shadow’s action, but her thoughts wouldn’t move slow enough for her to pin down what it was. Instead, her brain raced and she practically vibrated in her skin as her body coped with the dissipating stress of the fight. Rational thought was not going to be her strong suit in a state like this.

“Either way, you two were fantastic.” Nora broke the silence, gesturing to Odelle and Antony. “You got the signal back up incredibly fast, and Odelle, that message—you sounded so calm and professional. I think you’re going to get your wish of being a household name after that.”

Antony’s arm snaked around Odelle’s waist and pulled her to his side. She looked up at him to find him smiling with pride and couldn’t help her lips quirking up in her own victorious smile .

“Well.” Thad cleared his throat, shooting Antony and Odelle a mischievous look. “These two just miraculously escaped death and danger together, so I think we all know what happens next. We should give them some privacy and reconvene in the morning. Ezra is still out looking for any residual Shadows, but I doubt he’ll find anything.”

Thad had a point. As Odelle and Antony headed down the hall to his room, they brushed hands, and he shot her a sidelong glance. Odelle playfully bumped her hip against his, and he bumped back. A giggle escaped her and she walked faster until they were running pell-mell down the hall, burning off the energy trapped under their skin and laughing at the wonder of still being alive. She reached the door to Antony’s room first, but before she could open it, he caught her around the waist from behind, picking her clean up off her feet and whirling her around.

Odelle shrieked in delight even as Antony set her down again.

“I have another location in mind,” he murmured, breath tickling the shell of her ear.

He led her a few doors down to another courtyard, this one deserted apart from a white and blue tiled fountain in the middle. The gentle tinkle of water across the surface of the fountain and the golden evening light illuminating the space made it seem like they had entered the gardens on Mount Olympus.

“I want to see you in the sunlight,” Antony explained as he pulled Odelle into the circle of his arms. “I regret so much ever making you feel as if you were less than you are, even if it was unintentional. A brave, beautiful woman like you—you don’t belong hidden in a bedroom.”

Antony broke off to press a kiss to the side of her neck, the hollow of her throat, the dip of her collarbone.

“And what about a man like you?” Odelle asked, not caring that her voice came out breathy.

“What about a man like me?” Antony murmured against Odelle’s skin, searching for the zipper to her dress. Odelle was too busy working on his clothes to help.

“A smart and brave man like you needs some time in the sun too.” Indeed, the light of the setting sun made Antony’s skin seem incandescent, his hair shining like a new penny.

Antony paused for a second, and Odelle’s heart stuttered, fearing she had said something wrong. Then Antony spoke, voice quiet and reverent.

“I’ve always felt that I might be a coward—the member of the Eteria who shies away from a fight instead of running towards it. But you run towards every problem with just your wits and your determination to make things right. You make me feel like I could be brave.”

Odelle mourned for the man who held the power of the world in his fingertips and still found himself lacking, because he did not use that power for violence. Gently, she cupped his face in her hands, holding his gaze steadily.

“Choosing peace is its own type of bravery, especially in a world where we are pushed to fight. You might not be a Warrior, but you have to forgive yourself for the things you aren’t in order to fully celebrate who you are.”

Antony blinked with overbright eyes, and then responded by pressing his lips to hers. It said all it needed to say, and Odelle looped her arms around his neck, clutching him closer. Antony backed them up to the edge of the fountain, sitting down on the edge and pulling Odelle into his lap. She went willingly, and she straddled him as they finished their earlier task of divesting each other of clothing.

This time when they joined, Odelle watched Antony—the way he threw his head back at the sensation of her sliding against him and the way the color spread down his neck to his chest. His fingers dug into her hips, moving her above him, and she reveled in the feeling. This time, when she lost herself in the pleasure, it was with Antony’s name on her lips.

Odelle let her forehead rest on Antony’s shoulder as she caught her breath, taking in his scent. It somehow reminded her of a quiet Sunday afternoon in summer, even in the dead of winter. Eventually, the sun dipped below the horizon, turning the purples and golds of the courtyard to cool gray.

The couple untangled themselves and helped each other to their feet, gathering up their discarded clothes. Antony made no move to dress, and Odelle looked at him curiously.

“Nobody else lives in my hallway,” he explained with a shrug. “And even if they did, we’re not a society that’s very shy about nudity.”

Curious, Odelle followed his example and traipsed down the hallway wearing nothing but her legs. It felt odd, but natural. Maybe it had something to do with the number of nude statues throughout the Sanctuary. Still, she found it endearing that Antony could be so comfortable with public nudity and still blush every time she kissed him in front of anybody. It was another one of his charming dualities. Strength and serenity, confidence and shyness, all rolled into one.

Odelle complained with no real displeasure as they entered Antony’s room, “It’s a shame you mostly wear peplos and chitons , because it will deprive me of the pleasure of stealing your clothes to wear home in the morning. I mean, I could steal one of those gorgeous dresses in your closet, but they don’t seem very cozy, and I assume they don’t smell like you.”

Antony froze as he stepped into the room.

“When did you see the dresses?” He asked .

The blood drained from Odelle’s face.

“Oh, when you were unconscious. I visited and got bored and decided to…look around,” Odelle explained lamely.

“That’s embarrassing,” Antony looked at his feet and wiggled his toes.

“What? That you like to wear dresses?” Odelle asked, confused. “I can work with that.”

“No. Well I guess yes, if you count a peplos as a dress? But no, not those dresses.”

Odelle cocked her head to one side. “Then what?”

Antony blinked. “You have to know—I made those dresses for you.”

“Oh,” Odelle answered dumbly, not sure what else to say. Antony seemed to mistake her crestfallen response for displeasure, barreling on.

“I know it must seem odd. We weren’t even together yet, but I work through my feelings by making things. After Christmas, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I thought making you a dress might be cathartic, but then one thing led to another and well…I made several.”

“Can I try one on?” Odelle blurted out, unable to help herself.

It was Antony’s turn to look crestfallen, as if he hadn’t expected her to be excited to have her very own dream wardrobe.

“Oh, of course. Do you know which one?”

“The white and gold one,” Odelle answered without hesitation, no question in her mind.

Antony went to the wardrobe and drew it out, even more breathtaking than before. He brought it over to Odelle and helped her into it.

“So you don’t mind?”

“How could I mind something this beautiful?” Odelle asked as the fabric slipped over her head, whispering over her skin as light as air, feeling like she was wearing nothing. “I was coping by trying to dislike you and prove that I could pull my weight, so I’m not one to judge.”

“To each their own,” Antony commented as he aligned the golden feathers and beading properly on Odelle’s shoulders. Then he turned her to face the full-length mirror in the corner, extending the train out behind her.

Odelle could have keeled over and died from how beautiful she felt. Antony must have crept into her home and stolen her measurements with how well it fit, skimming flawlessly over every curve, making even the ones Odelle would rather hide look lovely.

“You’re missing one thing,” Antony commented. Odelle couldn’t imagine what could possibly improve the ensemble until Antony picked up the replica crown from his bedside table. When he set it on her head, nestling the fragile looking bronze leaves into her hair, she sighed. He let his arms fall, trailing his fingers featherlight over her arms as he went, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Odelle’s gaze caught Antony’s in the reflection, and she shivered. Despite the dress, she felt naked.

“Don’t let the goddesses catch sight of you. You’d start another full-on Trojan war.” Antony sounded reverent.

Odelle chuckled.

“I’ll be fighting in this gown, because I never want to take it off.”

Antony pressed a kiss to the back of Odelle’s neck. When she shivered, he did it again, looping his arms around her waist from behind. It didn’t take long for her to realize that she did want to take the dress off after all. The gown found its way to the bedroom floor, but the crown stayed on.