Page 107 of The Delta’s Rogue (Crescent Lake #4)

Olympus. The city of the gods.

It used to be my home but hasn’t been that in a long time. Not since I lost Asteria. I’ve not visited for longer than a meal since then, and I haven’t returned at all since I gave birth to Haven in the mortal realm.

The city sprawls in every direction. There are buildings and homes of every shape and size, all crafted from the glowing white clouds surrounding the realm. But none are as massive or imposing as the building in the center of it all.

Zeus’s palace.

It rises from the center of the city, jutting high into the heavens. Floor upon floor of rooms, every inch furnished with the finest trappings and outfitted with the latest cutting-edge technological developments from the mortal realm.

Zeus may have punished Prometheus for giving the mortals fire, kick-starting their love for and pursuit of knowledge and the next greatest thing. But Zeus enjoys the comforts the humans’ advanced technologies provide too much to stick to his supposed moral high ground.

It’s all too gaudy, too ostentatious, for my tastes. I prefer my tranquil, simplistic home in the moon realm to the bustling, noisy Olympus and the complexities of navigating its residents and their politics.

That’s why I stay away. That’s why I gave up my home in the city and my designated room in the palace. So I’d have no reason to return unless absolutely necessary .

I didn’t even return to ask Zeus’s permission to give Haven a gift.

I don’t know why I told her I did. I made that choice—to give her a gift—on my own.

I suppose it felt like more of a grand gesture: “Look what I did! I went to the king of the gods himself and begged him to make an exception for you.”

And then I made it worse. In addition to the gift she chose instead of immortality, I gave her another gift, and then I avoided her for four years.

By the time I realized my mistake, by the time I understood that what my daughter wanted more than anything was for me to choose her, it was too late.

I’d told my lie, and taking it back would do nothing.

I can’t take back the lie, I can’t take back the years of avoidance, and I can’t take back the aura she never wanted. But I can be there for her now. I can be the mother I should have been to her from the start—loving, present, protective.

Selfless.

I know one day’s worth of selflessness does not make up for twenty-five years of selfishness. But I am trying, and that’s all I can do.

Sighing, I turn away from the window. The guest room given to me today is small—much smaller than the suite I used to occupy. It’s all one room, with only a privacy screen separating the bathing area from the bedroom and sitting area.

The sitting area isn’t truly a separate space either.

It’s just a velvet chaise, set a few paces away from the foot of the massive bed and equal paces back from a small fireplace.

The large balcony and the expertly placed windows provide extra light and create the illusion of more space, but the room itself is small. Comfortable and sumptuous, but small.

The luxurious padded carpet caresses my bare feet as I cross to the chaise.

I pour myself a glass of ambrosia from the pitcher on the tiny table beside it.

The sweet liquid coats my tongue and soothes my throat on the way down.

It warms me from the inside out and grants me a boost of confidence for what I need to do next.

Head to dinner. Find Zeus. Get him alone, and—

“Selene.”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear . I think that’s the expression mortals use.

Zeus leans with one forearm pushing the curtain against the archway—curse him for not installing actual doors on any of these bedrooms—a haughty, self-satisfied smile resting on his lips.

His sky-blue eyes twinkle, and a dark golden curl falls across his forehead.

His raised arm lifts his V-neck T-shirt’s hem and offers a glimpse of those chiseled muscles mortal artists love to paint.

The short sleeves grip his biceps, looking like the seams might pop if he flexes any harder.

The only trait of Zeus’s the mortals get right in their depictions of him is the muscular body. The rest could not be further from accurate.

I might find him attractive, if I didn’t know how much of an asshole he is. If I didn’t know he’s the reason so many of my female warriors have suffered for so long. Him, and his pettiness, and some perceived slight against him.

He drags his bottom lip through his teeth and skates his eyes down my body, taking in the light blue dress I wear. The almost sheer fabric is the color of a cloudless sky on the sunniest day—the same color as his eyes.

His favorite color. On my body.

And he’s noticed it.

Good. I can work with that.

“Zeus,” I gasp.

He saunters through the archway, and the curtain rustles closed behind him. “You didn’t tell me you were coming back.”

“I wasn’t aware that I had to.”

He scans the room, taking in all the minor details of the space that seems to diminish in size with his massive form inside it. “I could have arranged for a nicer room for you if I’d known.”

“This room is fine.”

“One closer to mine,” he adds.

Ah. There it is. The truth. The detail I was counting on. That his attraction to and desire for me is as compelling as it was when he offered to father Haven.

I almost gag at that thought, so I pour myself another glass of ambrosia, placing my back to him to avoid his searing, searching gaze.

He, however, is undeterred. In his eyes, I’m a conquest. A battle he has yet to win. Our coupling is an inevitability.

He’s not wrong. It is happening. But not for the reasons he thinks it is.

He stalks closer to me. The hairs on my neck prickle with awareness. Each breath he takes brings his broad chest into contact with my bare back, and with each exhale, he steals the warmth from that contact back into himself .

It’s not a pleasant warmth, not like the gentle caress of a lover. No, it’s a searing brand I instantly want to scrub from my skin.

I don’t.

I don’t flinch. Instead, I subtly lean back into him. Not enough to lean my full weight on him, but enough so his chest constantly touches me instead of leaving an inch of space with his departing breaths.

I take no pleasure from our closeness.

He does, though. His fingers dance in the ends of my hair, brushing all of it over one shoulder. “It’s been a long time, Selene.”

I pretend my drink is the most interesting thing in the room. “Not that long.”

“Twenty-six years is a long time.”

“For a mortal, perhaps.”

He plucks the drink from my hand and takes a sip. “And for a god starved of your presence.”

Pretty words. As pretty as the god who speaks them. And equally shallow.

His mouth dips to my ear as he places the glass back on the table. “Come back, for good. Olympus is brighter with you in it.”

“We should go to the banquet hall for dinner.” I say the words, but I don’t move an inch.

He chuckles. “No one will care if I’m not there.”

“Hera might—”

“Hera gave up her right to care when she left me for Poseidon.”

He drops the information casually, like it doesn’t affect him in the slightest, but under his indifference is a hint of enmity.

“She left you?”

“She did.”

That is news. No matter how often or how far Zeus strayed, Hera stayed at his side. For her to leave now, after all this time…

He takes advantage of my stunned silence and spins me to face him.

“Your main excuse is no longer a concern.” His demeanor switches back to that of a paramour, as if we’re two secret lovers meeting within a hedge maze.

“What else is holding you back, Selene? Why won’t you give in to this undeniable chemistry between us? ”

Massive hands roam my body—up my hips and into the dip of my waist, then around to the small of my back. I hate every second of it. A shiver of disgust shakes me, and my hands brace myself against his broad chest.

I lower my eyelids to hide the true sentiment fueling the tiny shiver. “I’m only here for the night. I return to the moon tomorrow.”

“I can visit you there.”

“You know that’s not allowed.”

“It is if you invite me.”

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I repeat weakly. My words deny him, but I do nothing to convince him any part of me agrees with what I’m saying.

“Such a flimsy argument, especially when I can sense how much you want this. I can hear your heart racing and feel your skin warming under my touch.”

If only he knew the racing heart is because I dread what I must do. If only he knew my skin is heated because of the anger I keep shoving aside so I don’t ruin everything.

I pretend to consider his words, that I’m engaged in some inner debate. I trail my fingers along the V-neck of his shirt, teasing his collarbone, as I give him a resigned sigh. “It can only be one night, Zeus. This one night, and that’s it.”

“One night?”

I strip my dress off and drop it to the floor as my answer. He rakes his gaze over me, and a groan vibrates in his chest.

My throat tightens, and even though I want to push him away, I don’t.

His touch switches from gentle to fierce and controlling as he tugs me flush against him, hovering his lips over mine. “Then I guess I have one night to convince you to make it more.”