There’s something about her that hits me like a soft wind. It doesn’t blow me off my feet, but it’s a constant presence, a perpetual awareness I feel in the marrow of my bones. She has slowly and surely slipped past my defenses one witty retort or innate rambling at a time.
She sits beside me now, her legs curled up beneath her. Her expression as she gazes at me is soft and tender. I could stare at her like this for hours, taking in every diminutive detail I’ve never noticed before. Like the darker streaks in her blonde hair. Or the way her perfect nose is slightly turned up at the tip. Or the pink flush on her cheeks. Or the way her lips part just slightly…
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare at you like such a creeper,” she says when our eyes clash.
Most girls would be embarrassed at being caught watching me sleep, but not Thea.
“It’s okay,” I grumble, sitting upright.
The television is off, and the room is dark. Farther down the hall, I can hear the steady snores of most of my brothers.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“Not too long. We stopped playing shortly after you fell asleep. And I was going to wake you, but you just looked so peaceful…” She absently runs her fingers over the blanket surrounding her. “Well, you needed your sleep. You’re always grumpy without it.”
I smirk and roll out my neck, trying to alleviate the stiffness there. “I’m grumpy with it.”
“So I just can’t win, can I?” Her eyes sparkle impishly, then dim, turning subdued. She focuses once more on the blanket. “Are you anxious about seeing your father again tomorrow?” She risks peeking up at me through her fringe of sooty lashes,gauging my reaction. “I have a feeling—based on your reaction to hearing his name—that you two don’t get along well.”
The part of me that pushed people away my entire life wants to snap at her to mind her own business.
But I’m done hiding. Done building up impenetrable walls.
“It’s hard,” I admit. “He was always tough on me. Never thought I was good enough.”
I glance away, unable to bear seeing the emotions in her eyes. I don’t want her to pity me. I would fucking die before I allowed that to happen.
“He knew from my birth that I was fated to join Ares’s team, and he was pissed. He didn’t understand why Ares chose me and not Hades, his boss. I feel like, because of that, he thought I wasn’t good enough. Like, if Hades didn’t pick me, there was obviously a reason.”
Fuck, I’m saying too much. These are words I’ve never spoken out loud—not to anyone, not even my brothers—but I can’t stop the verbal freight train now that it’s left the station.
“You don’t have to visit him if you don’t want to.” Thea leans towards me, her expression open and earnest. “We can find another way. We can…”
Her breath hitches, and she drops her gaze to her hand—which is held in mine now.
I rub my thumb over her knuckles absently, focusing on the sensation of her hand in mine and the current of electricity rippling between us.
“I thought you hated me,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly.
I swallow. “I’ve never hated you. Maybe, at first, I didn’t trust you, but can you blame me? You materialized out of thin air and started spewing crazy-ass shit. But even then, I didn’t hate you. How could I? You’re warm and vibrant and real…” I look away, my throat clogged. “I admit, when I first met you, I tried to pushyou away. I don’t want to say I was afraid, because I wasn’t, but?—”
“You totally were afraid.” Thea’s brows lift in surprise. “But why? Did you think I would hurt you or the team?”
Yes, but not in the way she seems to believe. Not physically.
We’ve all been alone for so long, only having each other, that the thought of someone infiltrating our group terrified me. But I’ve been fighting against myself for too damn long. Fighting the way I feel when she’s around. Fighting the way she makes me think of things I’ve never considered before.
“I’m done fighting,” I say.
Done being afraid.
Before I even realize what I’m doing, I lean forward and kiss her.
And it feels inherently right—the quiet storm between us finally stilling.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THEA
