Page 23

23

Icarus

I don’t have any strong sense of allegiance to Circe, but fuck if she doesn’t have a good point about the corruption in this city. She’s all but literally knocking at Olympus’s gates, and the people in power are all too busy stabbing each other in the back to do anything useful in response.

I might be doing a bit of stabbing myself, but it’s not like I’m one of the people supposed to be running this place. And I didn’t betray Poseidon, no matter what he obviously thinks.

Poseidon holds out his hand without looking at me. “My phone,” he repeats.

My skin heats with shame even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong . I pass the phone to him. “I wasn’t betraying you.”

“I didn’t ask.”

My shame gains new weight and intensity. He has no reason to trust me. And I have no reason to mourn the intimacy we shared in the bed only a few feet away. I could have waited to call Deo. I could have talked it through with Poseidon first. He knows I have blackmail that could help Olympus. I’m the one who told him about it. All I had to do was ask for the phone and I bet he would have given it to me, no questions asked. He probably even would have left the room and let me make my calls in privacy—or at least the illusion of it.

But I wasn’t thinking about any of that when I snagged his phone and slipped into the bathroom.

Something flutters beneath my sternum. I know better than to fight to make someone see me when they’ve already decided they know everything they need to. I know better. But I still find myself saying, “I told you I had blackmail on Circe’s generals. I couldn’t use it unless I contacted them. So that’s what I did.”

He keeps watching me, but there’s none of the warmth I’ve come to associate with him. I didn’t even realize how much I enjoyed it until it’s gone. I wait for him to condemn me or yell or tell me I’m worthless, but he simply waits.

This isn’t a tactic my father ever employed. He was a volcano constantly on the verge of eruption. He might have been able to charm and coax people outside our household, but he saved the worst of himself for me. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that it left scars, that I’m already tensing in preparation for Poseidon to cut me down to the bone.

As the silence stretches out, gaining a weight I swear I can feel against my skin, words spring from my lips, so quick I’m almost babbling. “It will take a little time for Deo to convince them to realize they don’t have other recourse and that the best option is to do what I want. They will all need to independently verify that I actually do have the blackmail I claim to. But they will do what I want and sail their asses back to Aeaea. Without them, it will be that much easier to sink Circe to the bottom of the bay like Zeus wants. It will be over.”

He sighs, a nearly soundless exhale. “Icarus.”

I hate how tired he sounds, how defeated. I want to fix it, but I’m at least partially to blame, which means I can’t fix it. This is the moment when I retreat and realign to come at this from a different way. Poseidon’s already proven that he won’t hurt me—and that he’ll stop anyone else from trying. I just have to be patient, to sit through this uncomfortable silence. There’s absolutely no reason for the panic pulsing higher and higher as if it might expel itself right from my throat.

And then it does.

“Get on your knees,” I snap. Desperation makes my voice hard. I can’t stand this new distance between us, distance I’m responsible for. I have no right to this man, but I’m a selfish asshole and I’m not going to let that stop me.

“Trident.” He speaks the word softly, but it rings through the room like a bell. Poseidon straightens slowly, towering over me. “If you want to apologize for stealing my phone and going behind my back to make those calls, then apologize. But you’re not going to use sex to override my anger at you. It’s not fair.”

I stumble back and sit on the edge of the bed. It feels like he just sucker punched me. “But I’m helping,” I say weakly.

“I understand that you’ve operated a particular way your entire life. I even understand why, having dealt with your father for the last few months.” He bends down and snags his shirt from the floor. “I don’t expect you to trust me.”

“Then—”

“But if I am not going to put expectations on you, your reactions, and your feelings, then you’re going to give me the same respect.” He pulls the shirt over his head and gets to work stepping into his boots and lacing them up. He’s so calm, and I can’t stop shaking. I’m not afraid of Poseidon…but I am afraid of him locking me out.

I don’t mean to hit my knees before him; I’m certainly not trying to reverse the failed order. It just sort of happens. I stare up at him, my heart beating so hard that it makes me dizzy. Or maybe that’s the panic continuing to spiral through me and outward. “I’m sorry. Poseidon, please. I’m so sorry. Don’t walk away from me.”

He slows and stops, his brows drawing together. He searches my face and I’m too upset to try to hide what I’m feeling from him. It’s strange to watch him process it because he is processing it. I knew Poseidon studied other people, but this is the first time I’ve seen him blatantly catalog someone’s features and expression and come to a particular conclusion.

He sinks slowly down to crouch in front of me and take my shoulders. “Icarus, breathe.”

“I am…breathing.” Sort of. My chest is too tight. I can’t think. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’ve been upset before but never like this. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” He massages my shoulders lightly, his amber eyes concerned. “I’m sorry, too. I’m not angry only at you, and it’s not even fully anger. I dislike curve balls and Zeus just threw a particularly violent one. I’m upset.” He kneads the tight muscles where my neck meets my shoulders. “Inhale through your nose. Hold it. One, two, three. Now exhale slowly. Again.” Over and over again, he talks me through the simple act of breathing. Something I’ve been doing since birth but suddenly forgot how to do.

I don’t know how long it takes before the rushing in my brain eases. It could be seconds. It could be hours. But eventually, the strength goes out of my body and I slump forward. Poseidon catches me easily, sweeping me into his arms and rising. “Keep breathing, Icarus.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I whisper. The pressure is still there in my chest, but at least it’s loosened enough that I can breathe.

“Panic attack.” He sits on the bed, his back to the headboard, and arranges me on his lap. “It happens.”

“Not to you.”

He huffs out a pained laugh. “Yes, it does. Not exactly like that. I tend to shut down.”

Shut down.

Just like he did earlier.

There’s a proper response to this, but I’m too fucked up to figure it out. “Oh,” is all I can manage. “Did I mention that I’m sorry?”

“Yeah.” He rests his cheek against the top of my head, his steady breathing soothing me even more effectively than his careful coaching had earlier. I don’t think he’ll keep going, preferring to retreat behind that wall of silence that I shouldn’t have pressed him to break, but he eventually says, “I don’t know what to do. Zeus’s plan isn’t a bad one, for all that it’s reckless enough to break the Thirteen. Hera is still determined to bargain with Circe, but I don’t see how Olympus comes out on top of that. It’s more likely that the people who will pay the price will be the ones who least deserve to.”

I allow myself to sink into him, to relax little by little. “Circe won’t bargain. I don’t know what she told Hera, but she won’t accept anything less than the ultimate destruction of Olympus.” I know her story as well as anyone, so I don’t exactly blame her for hating the city that let her be hurt even before it believed she died and moved on as if nothing had changed. The city that watched impassively as the same thing happened to her predecessor and the woman who held the Hera title after her. Three Heras, all rumored to be dead by the last Zeus’s hand, and no one did a single damn thing to try to stop it. If I were her, I’d want to burn this place, too.

I certainly have similar thoughts about Aeaea when I go to a particularly vengeful place.

I don’t hold any great love for this city. It’s been kind and cruel to me in turn, and it shares equal responsibility as Minos in abusing my sister. I shouldn’t care one way or another what happens to the people here. I’m not like Ariadne, too good for this world, determined to minimize casualties in every way she could manage. I’m the selfish sibling, the indolent one looking for his next pleasure to numb the pain of never being good enough. If anything, a full-out battle should give me the opportunity to slip my captor and escape to keep my promise to Ariadne.

And yet…

If the city falls, Poseidon will fall with it. He doesn’t have a navy, but he’s not one to lead from the back. He’ll fight even though he’s not a warrior, and he’ll die in service of a war he doesn’t even believe in to protect the innocents he feels responsible for. All while the rest of the Thirteen argue and politic. I’ve only known him a short time. The thought of him dying shouldn’t bother me—but it does. Deeply.

Which means there’s only one play.

“Zeus is right. At least partially.” I speak without raising my head, feeling my way through the reasoning. “If I can convince Circe’s generals to abandon her, Athena and her people should be able to sneak aboard and assassinate her and whoever else of value is on her ship without too much risk.” I almost tell him to just sink the ship after that and be done with it, but a little voice in the back of my head warns of unnecessary death. It sounds a lot like Ariadne.

I clear my throat. “But before you sink it, you should allow the crew to surrender. Aeaea is different from Olympus in a lot of ways—but it’s the same, too. When our people decided not to turn the island into a tourist destination, it started the long death of our industry. I still don’t think it was the wrong call, but if people don’t leave after secondary school, then there are only so many routes available to them—especially if they don’t have a family business to step into. The navy is the main route.”

Poseidon strokes a hand down my back. “I can’t risk our people by—”

“I’m not asking you to risk anything. If you’re already on the ships, you can evacuate them and send them to the nearest port that isn’t Olympus. Without Circe in the mix, they won’t be in a rush to fight.” I’m asking for extra steps, extra effort, and it’s not like I know any of those people, but it still feels…right. And not just because Ariadne would want it.

He keeps rubbing my back while he ponders it. It’s tempting to push him for an answer, but I stay silent and let him work through it. Ultimately, I can only argue. I can’t actually make the decisions that will change anything for anyone.

Finally, he says, “It’s not a bad suggestion, and lessening casualties means it’s less likely we’ll be dealing with another revenge-fueled invasion in a decade or two. I can’t promise anything, but I’ll see what I can do.” His lips brush my temple. “Thank you for suggesting it.”

I tense instinctively, ready to keep arguing, but then the meaning of his words wash over me. He’s agreeing with me. Not making promises, but then Poseidon isn’t the type of man to promise anything he can’t actually fulfill. The success of this plan depends deeply on Zeus’s support, which I suspect won’t be easy to get.

But Poseidon listened. He…found value in my input. I reach out and tentatively grip his big bicep. “Poseidon?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you still angry with me?”

He huffs out a laugh and what little tension was left in his body dissipates. “No, I guess I’m not.”

Thank the gods. I shift, earning a muted groan from him. “We still have another hour or so until sunrise.”

“That’s true.”

I smile a little at how deep and gravelly his voice goes. The world still feels slightly unsteady around me, but the man holding me is a rock in the midst of a storm. I don’t know how to tell him how sorry I am for hurting him, how much I appreciate the fact that he actually listens to me without rejecting my suggestions out of turn. I’ve never had to say anything like that before. Historically, I’m usually fighting for my life just to avoid being the biggest disappointment.

I know how to show him, though. I’m very good at it. “I can kiss you?” The sentence flickers a little, becoming one that I don’t dare speak aloud: Can I keep you?

I know better than to ask. The answer is always the same.

No.

Never.

Why would you ever consider that I’d want to be kept by a fuckup like you?

For the first time in my life, I want something different. Something…more. Too bad the person inspiring that feeling is the same one who will kick my ass to the curb the moment this conflict with Circe is over.