Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“And then?”
“And then we take it day by day.” Another kiss, this one deep and searching. When I finally break it, I’m breathing hard. “We have so many days, Hecate. Weeks, months, years.”
She smiles against my lips. “Well, shit, it’s hard to be morose with you kissing me like that. Do it again.”
I do. Again and again, tugging her back from the dark place she’s gone, anchoring her in the here and now with my body and my touch. I don’t know what the future holds, and I might be bored out of my damn mind with all the paperwork forming a new government generates, but I’m content. Once we reunite with Circe and start the next chapter, I’ll be happy.
It’s more than I could have ever dreamed. More than I even dared hope for.
33
Hecate
Leaving Olympus for the last time feels a little like leaving part of my heart behind me…and like setting down a massive burden I’ve been carrying for far too long. I have the utmost confidence the new delegates will represent the people’s interests. The future is wide open with possibilities and hope.
Their story is no longer mine. I’ve done what I set out to do all those years ago. The Thirteen are gone, scattered to the world with their loved ones. The legacy families followed, just like we’d hoped.
Atalanta slips her hand into mine as our ship cuts through the waves, following the shoreline south. There’s a plane waiting to take us to Circe. I’m still not entirely sure what she’s been up to over the last few months. We talked regularly, but all I know is that she’s come alive in the last week or so, her grief over Olympus changing into excitement.
She’s got a new plan. I can’t wait to hear it.
Fourteen hours of tedious travel later, we’re standing in front of a charming brick house on a quiet street in a normal city. It’s so…mundane. I check my phone for the third time, but the address matches the golden numbers running vertically down the front porch beam. “This is it?”
“Huh.” Atalanta crosses her arms over her chest. “I didn’t think this was Circe’s vibe. She’s like you—surrounds herself with nice shit.”
“Atalanta, this is a nice house.”
She shoots me a look. “Yes, it is. Nice and cozy and just needs a white picket fence to finish the pretty picture. It’s also normal, and that woman is not normal.” She straightens a little. “Maybe it has a sex dungeon.”
The image of Atalanta in a sex dungeon is almost enough to distract me from the very real need to walk up and knock. Oh well. I can do this. I didn’t participate in the downfall of an entire city-state just to be too cowardly to ring my no-longer-ex-girlfriend’s doorbell.
Even as I try to talk myself into taking that first step, the door opens and Circe leans against the frame, looking good enough to eat in a pair of leggings and a loose tank top under a silly apron. “Are you coming in? The neighbors are going to start to gossip if you stand outside for too long.”
“Can’t have that,” Atalanta murmurs. She touches the small of my back, nudging me into motion.
Inside is just as charming as the outside. It looks like a grandma lives here, and smells absolutely divine with some kind of cookies. It’s very normal and I don’t know what to think. We follow Circe into the kitchen, where she pulls a sheet of cookies out of the oven. They’re perfect.
I blink. “I didn’t know you could bake.”
“It’s been months, love. After I picked up the pieces for my surviving people, I needed a hobby.” She makes a face at the cookies. “I despise being bad at things, but I despise quitting even more.”
“So, naturally, you had to conquer the cookies,” Atalanta murmurs. She laughs. “Gods, I think I actually missed you.”
Circe’s irritation at the cookies melts away, leaving her vulnerable and hopeful. “I missed you, too.” She turns those intoxicating green eyes on me. “Both of you.”
“It’s been really hard not seeing you.” I manage a smile. I’m happy. Truly. It’s just the blank future spreading out before me that is intimidating. “I guess our new lives start now.”
Circe is still watching me closely. “This is what we’d always talked about. A cozy house in a nice neighborhood.” She chuckles. “It took me some time to win over the neighbors, but the cookies help. Ralph next door and I trade off shoveling the sidewalk when it snows. He’s a grumpy old asshole, but he’s got good stories.”
She’s right. This is exactly what we talked about—what we dreamed about—when we were young. That dream is why I bought and remodeled the house in the upper city, a tribute to a future burned as a sacrifice on the altar of the mission.