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Chapter 10

Eros

F uck, fuck, fuck!

Eros gripped the edge of the sink so tightly he feared he would crack the porcelain. Glancing up, he observed himself in the mirror. It was the same face that had greeted him every morning for twenty thousand years—same blue-silvery eyes, same lips, same straight nose, not a single new wrinkle or line.

Yet there was a fundamental shift that was there, that only he could detect.

You didn’t say it, he told himself. It doesn’t count.

Who the fuck was he kidding. Psyche had wormed her way under his skin and into his heart from the moment she opened her mouth and spoke about dinosaurs.

Despite his title, God of Love and Desire, Eros had avoided emotional entanglements. He’d seen firsthand how even a goddess could be blinded by love. Not that he ever blamed Aphrodite for the abuse from his biological father. The real culprit was Cyncus, who had masked his true nature so well that even the goddess of love fell for it. Still, he had carefully guarded his own heart and soul for thousands of years. And now…

Fucking Council of Olympians.

If they hadn’t sent him here, he wouldn’t have met Psyche. And had he forgotten why he was here in the first place? He still had a mission—to restore his immortality. Had he forgotten who he truly was?

He was the god of love and desire, for fuck’s sake. Immortal. Unlimited power. Untouchable. This mortal shell of his body was but a temporary prison, and he would find his way back to his true existence.

Splashing cool water on his face did nothing to soothe him, but he dried himself off with the hand towel and wiped down the sweat from his body. Carefully, he padded out to the bedroom, breathing a sigh of relief that Psyche was already under the covers, back toward him, snoozing soundly. He crawled into bed next to her and lay down, attempting to sleep and quiet the thoughts in his head.

“Do we have everything?” Psyche asked as Eros shut the trunk of their rental.

“Yes, it’s all in there.”

“Good. Are you ready, passenger prince?”

He forced out a laugh. “Yeah, your prince is ready.” But Eros hardly felt like a prince, not with the thoughts swirling around in his head as he continued to act normal.

Truthfully, slipping on his charming mask came naturally. As usual, he charmed Psyche’s parents during breakfast and they fawned over him, just as the guests did last night. Thankfully, her awful sisters weren’t around this morning though they did show up just now, as they were packing up and bidding the Alpha and Jean goodbye.

Psyche gave her family a final wave as she put the car into gear, and they drove off. The rest of the trip was smooth, and Eros did his best to act normal, though he could tell Psyche was quieter than normal. Once they reached the campsite at around midnight, she simply did her evening routine and went to bed. The next day, when he woke up, she was gone.

He spent the day as he usually did, exploring the area surrounding the dig. However, not even the quiet calm of nature helped the tumultuous thoughts inside him. He could not face Psyche, not after what happened the night of the party. But he couldn’t pretend everything was alright, couldn’t touch her and kiss her and make love to her, not when that would only cause him to further stray from his goals.

His feet were like lead as he trudged back to the dig site, thinking of ways to delay the inevitable. Maybe I can go into town. He could tell Psyche there was something wrong with the car or?—

“Eros!”

Pausing, he looked behind him. “Marge,” he greeted. “Nice to see you. It’s been a while.”

The brunette flashed him a bright smile. “Not my fault, is it? You’ve been occupied.”

“I sure have.” He’d been spending all his time with Psyche, after all. “Where are you off to?”

“The bar.”

“The one in Healy?”

“Oh no,” she chuckled. “So, a couple of us were sitting around the other day, bored out of our minds and just itching to go to a bar, but too lazy to get ourselves to Healy. So, we were shooting the shit, right, and we all came up with this idea to just set up a bar ourselves, here in the camp. Pitch a tent, grab a couple of kegs, some bottles, and whatnot. Well, one thing led to another, and we actually got management to approve it, so we set up our own bar where we can socialize. We just call it The Bar.”

“That’s brilliant.”

“Isn’t it?” She laughed. “At first, it was just a couple of tables and chairs, but now it’s a whole thing! Like, one of my guys actually built a whole bar, and then when Johnson came up with the supply truck, he had a whole ass pinball machine in there!”

“Really? I’ve never played pinball.”

“Well…” She hooked a finger in a lock of hair and twirled it. “Do you want to check it out? I mean, if you’re not busy with Psyche…”

“Not at all. Lead the way.”

The large tent pitched at the main campsite just behind the mess hall was a new addition. It appeared to be a normal canvas tent, but once they stepped inside, it was as if he’d been transported elsewhere. Lanterns and fairy lights had been strung all around, providing a cozy atmosphere. Music blasted from a portable speaker and tables and chairs had been set up inside to provide spaces where people could sit and socialize. However, almost everyone was at the bar at the far end, chatting and laughing like they were in any watering hole in any city in the world. And just as Marge had said, there was, indeed, a pinball machine just off to the side.

“Wow, this is amazing.”

“Right? It’s so nice to just come here after work and have a happy hour. C’mon!” She grabbed his hand. “Let’s get a drink.” Dragging him to the bar area, she called out, “Look who’s here, guys!”

A loud cheer rang from the small crowd, and someone handed Eros a drink in a glass. Whiskey. The drink went straight to his belly and to his head, and his muscles relaxed.

“Good?” Marge asked.

“Yes.” He downed the rest. “Exactly what I needed. More!” Another cheer went up, and someone quickly refilled his glass.

Yes, this was exactly what he needed. Drink and cheer, something to remind him of what he was missing out on being stuck here. When he had his godly powers, he could go to any party on earth—one moment he was sitting in the VIP section of Las Vegas’s most exclusive nightclub, and the next, he was rubbing shoulders with celebrities and socialites at a movie premiere after-party in London before ending his day watching the sunrise on the beaches of Ibiza.

That’s what his life should be all about as God of Love and Desire: glitz, glamor, and gorgeous women.

He was already a few glasses deep when Marge returned from making the rounds. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Sure enough, here was a gorgeous woman—tall, willowy, and curvy in all the right places.

Yet why couldn’t he muster anything more than a passing admiration of her looks? He couldn’t imagine her in his bed. No, there was only one woman he wanted to kiss and touch.

“Are you having a good time?” she asked, leaning forward and allowing him a better view of her generous cleavage.

“I am. Thanks for bringing me here.”

“My pleasure. I mean, I would have brought you here sooner, but you were always with Psy?—”

“I’ve never played pinball,” he interrupted.

A dark eyebrow went up. “Never?”

“Nope. Care to show me?”

A slow smile curved her lips. “Of course.”

The sensual sway of her hips as she led the way to the pinball machine was an unmistakable invitation. He’d bedded many women like her over the millennia, and, once he got his immortality back, would continue to do so. If he found a way to break free of this godsdamned punishment.

Not if , he told himself. When. Despite the alcohol buzzing in his system and wrapping his head in a fuzzy cloud, it was so clear to him now. He had to get the fuck off the Upperworld.

“So, it’s really quite simple,” Marge began as she stood in front of the machine and placed her hands on the red buttons on the sides. Her breasts threatened to pop out of the low-cut shirt as she leaned down. “All you have to do is hit the balls with the paddles like this…”

He remained frozen to the spot, watching her as she explained the game, her breasts jiggling enticingly as she moved and thrust her hips forward.

I should be enjoying this. Women had done more to seduce him.

Yet, he couldn’t imagine himself with her. No, his thoughts were filled with a certain petite, brown-haired, curvy shifter female who spoke of lake sediment records and echinoderms.

“Wait, I think I got it.” He finished the remaining whiskey in his glass and motioned for her to move aside. Placing his hands on the buttons, he said, “Is this how it’s done?”

“Yes. But I think I should give you a more hands-on tutorial.”

Soft, plush curves pressed up against his back as she placed her hands over his. “Is this okay?”

No! “Yeah, it’s okay.”

“Good.” Her breath was warm as she moved her mouth close to his shoulder. “I wouldn’t want your girlfriend to get mad.”

His stomach twisted into a knot, but he ignored it. Turning around, he faced her and put a hand on her shoulder. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Eros?”

The blood in his veins turned arctic at the sound of the familiar tone. “Psyche.” He wanted to push Marge away, but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate. “What are you doing here?

“I was waiting for you to take me to dinner. When you didn’t come, I checked social media, and I saw you in the background of Amber’s livestream. What’s going on here?”

Marge shuffled backward. “Hey, Psyche,” she greeted nonchalantly. “Glad you found our little place.”

Despite all the time he’d spent with Psyche, her face remained hard to read. Had she been any other woman, by now, she would have thrown a fit or, worse, launched herself at them in a burst of fury. But, no, she just stood there, nose wrinkling as she assessed the situation.

“We should talk, Eros,” she said after a long bout of silence.

“Alright. I’ll see you later, Marge.”

His heart drummed in his chest as he followed Psyche outside into the cool night. She kept going, not stopping until the blaring music could no longer be heard. “What was that?”

“A bar?”

“I know what a bar is.” She rubbed at her arms. “I mean, you and Marge.”

“What about us?”

She flinched. “Could you please give me the courtesy of being straightforward? Surely, you owe me that much.”

His throat turned scratchy and dry as his chest tightened. “She was just showing me how the pinball machine worked and?—”

“Do you want to sleep with her?”

He chuckled. “Do I want to sleep with her?”

She huffed. “Alright, if you don’t want to answer that, then just answer this: what are we, Eros? What am I to you? Just a warm body to sleep with while you wait for the gods to forgive you and give you back your immortality?”

Blood roared in his ears. What was he supposed to say to that? “You’re…you’re…” He cleared his throat. “You’re a friend, Psyche.”

“And what else? Because friends don’t have sex and share intimate details and meet each other’s family. What am I to you?”

“Psyche, it’s not that, I—” He cursed to himself. Why was he fighting her? She was correct, after all. He still craved that immortality, wanted it still, and couldn’t let go of the thought. Besides, in a few decades, she’d be dust and dead, and he would go on living through the rest of eternity.

Without her.

“It’s fine.” A cold mask slipped onto her face. “I understand, really. You never promised me anything, and it was my mistake to think this was more than it was.” She took two deep breaths. “Please tell the Alpha that while I appreciate his help, I would like to be left alone now. Your assistance is no longer needed.”

“Psych—”

She turned on her heel and trudged off, and he could only watch her as she disappeared down the trail and into the night.

It was better this way. She was not part of the plan. Allowing himself to get entangled with her only distracted him. No, he needed to get back to Olympus, to the life he was meant to have.

Grumbling to himself, he headed back to the tent. I need a drink. The party had turned raucous in his short absence, the music louder, and someone was doing a headstand on top of a keg of beer. He strode over to the bar where, once again, someone gave him a drink—a shot this time, which he downed in one gulp. He slammed the shot glass onto the bar.

Fuck.

The dull ache in his chest grew into a deep, stabbing pain. As he closed his eyes, all he could see was Psyche, beautiful Psyche, standing there as he did nothing to assure her that she meant more to him than anything—even his immortality—in the entire world.

I have to make this right.

Hopefully, it wasn’t too late. It had only been what—a few minutes? He would explain to her that he’d been confused and scared. That he didn’t want to sleep with Marge or anyone else, and if she was angry at him for hurting her, then he would spend whatever was left of his life here on earth asking for her forgiveness.

Razorblades slashed at his throat as he dashed toward the exit. He ignored all the calls from the others, his mind laser-focused toward one destination—the cabin he shared with Psyche. A sigh of relief escaped his mouth as he saw the light was still on through the window.

“Psyche!” he called as he threw the door open. “Psyche, I was wrong. Please forgive me.”

Eerie silence filled the cabin, the air still and heavy. His gut instinct told him something was very wrong. “Psyche?” His gaze landed on the bed, where Psyche lay prone, still wearing her usual work attire, dirt-covered work boots and all. “Psyche?” He walked to her, his gut screaming at him. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was even, yet there was something about the stillness that just was not right.

“Hello, Eros, God of Love and Desire.” The voice came from over by the sliding door that led to the outside. It was open and a figure in the shadows stood just outside.

“Who the hell are you?” Eros exclaimed as the figure stepped into the light to reveal itself. “Bob?

The site manager flashed him a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, it’s me.”

“What are you doing here?” Alarm bells rang in his head, so he watched his words carefully. “Did you just—” He called me Eros, God of Love and Desire. “What the fuck is going on?”

Bob laughed. “Let’s not play games anymore, Lord Eros. Yes, I know exactly who you are. I’ve known who you were since I was born.”

Eros glanced over at Psyche again. She appeared asleep, but .“Psyche!” She didn’t stir, and he knew something was definitely amiss. “Psyche, wake up!” He only managed to take one step toward her when he heard the distinctive click of a cocking gun. “You did this, didn’t you? What did you do to her?”

“Just a little sleeping spell—Stop!” He tsked when Eros attempted to go to Psyche’s side again. “Don’t move a muscle, my lord.” Bob stepped aside, and another man entered, pistol in hand, and pointed straight at him. “Or my bodyguard will shoot you between the eyes. It’ll be quick and painless, now that you’ve lost your immortality.”

How the fuck did this middle-aged manager know who he was and that he had lost his immortality? He was sorely tempted to tackle him and take a chance, but then there was a chance a stray bullet could hit Psyche.

Time to change tactics.

“Alright, looks like you’re ready to give your villain speech,” he said in the driest tone he could muster. “So, can you be done with it? This is getting boring.”

“Villian?” Bob cried, waving his hands maniacally. “You think I’m the villain? When it was your mother and her lover who deprived me of what is rightfully mine?”

“Just what the fuck are you talking about, Bob?”

“You really don’t know? You gods truly are selfish.” He whipped his shirt off and turned around. “See that?”

“What do you—” His mouth snapped shut as he saw what Bob was referring to. It was faint, but it was there. Two long lines like scar tissue ran vertically on his upper back. “This is where my wings are supposed to be.”

“Wings?

“I’m a geryon. Or at least I’m supposed to be, until your mother trapped Cyncus’s magic and locked it away.”

That name made his blood boil, and the edges of his vision turned red. “He deserved that and more. Do you know what he did to me? To my mother? She had no choice. It was the only way to get us away from that bastard because of the blood spell he cast on me. The only other way she could get me away from that monster was to kill every single one of his family members, which my mother would never do. Maybe she should have. Then you wouldn’t be standing here now.”

Bob’s eyes blazed with fury. “Didn’t you think of what would happen to all of us—your family, by the way—when you trapped his magic and left him powerless? How it would affect all of us?”

He remained silent.

“No, you didn’t,” he sneered. “All those millennia ago, when Aphrodite trapped Cyncus’s magic in the pyxis, he not only lost his powers but so did all the geryons in his bloodline. Dozens of them—men, women, elderly, children—all suddenly lost their magic and the ability to hide their wings. With their powers lost, the other geryons revolted and took the throne, then cast them out. They had to live in the lowlands with the other creatures, and of course, they had nothing and barely survived. Their descendants, too, had no magic, and over the centuries, as we mated with other creatures and humans, we lost our wings too.” He shrugged his shoulders. “We lost everything because of you.”

“How do you know all this?”

“As the branches of our bloodline splintered and separated, they eventually forgot who they truly were. But, my branch of the family retained the knowledge through generations. The information was passed to me, from my father, and his father before him, and so on, so that one day, we may find a way to get our magic back.” His eyes narrowed into slits. “Over the centuries, my family amassed wealth with only one goal in mind: revenge.”

Eros swallowed hard. “H-how did you find me?”

“We’ve been tracking you over the centuries, taking note of when you appeared on earth. And last year, when the whole Winged fiasco came to light, my instinct knew you had something to do with it. And so, I had my people keep a close watch on the situation. They found a photo of you and the CEO vacationing together in Santorini, and we were able to match your face to the various paintings and photos we have of you over the last couple of years.”

Eros groaned to himself. He had asked Winged’s social media manager to delete that photo, but it seemed he didn’t do it fast enough.

Bob continued. “Then another photo of you popped up, this time, in the background of a photo of one of the students here. This was my chance, so I bribed my way in here. Though Rebecca, the old site manager, was only too happy to step aside after I offered her a year’s worth of her pitiful salary to let me take her place.”

“Can we cut the crap and you tell me what you want?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? I want the pyxis.”

“I don’t know where it is.”

“Your mother and Hephaestus do, so I suggest you ask them or else.” He gestured toward Psyche. “Don’t even think of trying to wake her up yourself. Only I can break the spell.”

“So, she’s just sleeping?” He had feared the worst.

“Yes, she’s just sleeping, and she’ll keep on sleeping. You’ll watch her wither away and die as her body is unable to receive nutrients and begins to consume itself. It’s a slow and horrible death; one she’ll feel to the very end.” He laughed. “You could also show her mercy and end it quickly for her.”

“You motherfucker!” Eros’s hands balled into tight fists. “I swear to all the gods and goddesses of Olympus, Valhalla, Aaru, Takamagahara, and the rest of the universe, I will hunt you down, rip your heart out, feed it to the hydra, and make you watch.”

Bob scoffed. “Whatever.” He took something from his pocket and placed it on the table. “Contact me when you have it. Don’t even think of trying to send anyone after me because you won’t be able to find me.” He turned to his bodyguard. “Are we ready?”

The man touched his ear and then nodded. “The chopper’s ready and waiting, sir.”

“Thank you. You better start looking, Eros. I heard the body can only go without water for about three days.”

Eros could only watch as Bob and his bodyguard marched out of the cabin through the sliding back door. Once he was gone, he dashed over to the bed. “Psyche.” He sank down at the edge of the bed and took her hand.