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)
But now there’s a decision to make. The bed would be lovely beyond measure, but I can’t leave those two out in the main area right in front of the door. There’s no reason for anyone to know where we are, but there’s even less reason to make assumptions that end with one or all of us dead.
With a frustrated sigh, I yank the bedding back and go to collect the other women. It’s not until I’m tugging back the solar blanket from Hecate that I register the fact she’s naked. They both are. I’m the one who took off their clothing, but it was in a moment of panic and narrowed vision, intent on keeping them alive. Now they’re alive and warm, and I’m slipping my arms around Hecate in a way I’ve wanted to do for years.
My traitorous mind registers how soft her skin it, how the way her braids slide over my arm makes me shiver, how her small breasts are topped with perfect brown nipples. I try to shut it down, but I’m tired and scared and angry, and she’s so fucking beautiful, and we haven’t fixed anything or solved the Circe problem, and my heart fucking hurts. I lay Hecate down on the bed and she barely murmurs as she rolls over and flings her arm out. I want to see it as a true sign of her trust, but the reality is that she almost died today.
Circe is next, and no less torturous. Because I know how it feels to slide my mouth down the center of her chest, to part her deceptively muscular thighs and taste her at her core. I know the sound she makes when she comes and how her fingers feel digging into my hips as she rides my thigh. It kills me to lay her next to Hecate and pull the blankets over them both. And yet there’s something satisfying in it, too.
I take the time to fold the solar blankets and shove a chair under the doorknob, and then I lie down on the couch and close my eyes. Despite my racing thoughts, sleep takes me in its comforting embrace, tugging me gently down into the dark.
Only to be woken a short time later by the soft sound of footsteps. I jolt out of sleep, my hand going to the gun I set on the floor next to the couch. I wake up to find it pointed at Hecate’s surprised face.
She blinks. “I know you’re not happy with me, but shooting me feels a little dramatic.”
I jerk the gun to the side and then lower it. I’m shaking. I don’t know when that started, but I can’t seem to control it. “Don’t sneak up on me when I’m sleeping.”
“I was basically stomping my way over here so you’d hear me coming.” She shuffles her bare feet, not making a single sound. I belatedly realize she’s wrapped in a blanket, but not the one from the bed. She bites her bottom lip. “You’re out here to guard the door.”
“Yeah.” It takes effort to keep my gaze on her face, to not picture her body beneath the blanket, to not wonder if she’s as naked now as she was then.
“I…” She looks away and then back at me. “Can I sleep out here with you?”
“It’s your place.”
“Atalanta.” She ducks her head. “Please.”
My heartbeat picks up, racing in the base of my throat. “I’d like that.” I recline slowly and have to close my eyes as she stretches out next to me and tosses the blanket over us both. I’m not wearing near enough clothes to hide the fact that she’s still naked.
She tangles her legs with mine and nuzzles my throat, exhaling slowly. “Now I can sleep.”
This woman is a torment. I can’t live without her. I carefully wrap my arms around her and settle back into the couch. Before today, I would have said that a naked Hecate would be enough to wipe any concept of the possibility of sleep from my mind.
Instead, I’m out within seconds, her steady breathing lulling me into a sense of safety that I want more than anything in the world.
28
Hecate
I want to sleep for years. Decades. The kind of sleep that makes people build towers in your honor—or their horror of your fate. My body has never felt so heavy…but the delicious warmth of Atalanta draws me back. We shifted about while we slept, and now I’m sprawled on top of her, my face tucked against her throat. My hand rests lightly on her bandage, which probably needs to be changed after she carried Circe, wet with river water. Why didn’t I think of that? I should have said something. If she ends up hurt… Well, more hurt. I can’t pretend she’s been kept safe during this whole process.