West of Want (Hearts of the Anemoi) (21 page)

“I will. I have to.” Zeph sighed. “You guys don’t have to stay for this.”

“We’ll stay,” Chrys said, plunking into an armchair and picking up the remote.

Owen stretched out on the couch. “We’ll stay. Just”—he grinned at Chrys—“go get us a snack.”

Zeph glared, but headed to the kitchen. Ella’s fridge and cabinets were alarmingly sparse. What did the woman eat? Bingo. He’d found what could only be called a stash. Candy. Cookies. Something called Nutella. He grabbed the Oreos for the guys. He looked wistfully at the bag of M&Ms. What he wouldn’t give to go back in time to yesterday afternoon when she made him pancakes full of the candies. The list of things he’d do differently was a mile long.

Back in the living room, Zeph chucked the package of cookies onto Owen’s chest. He caught them with a curse, then his face went all kid-in-a-candy-store.

“Aw, man, these are awesome.” He took three and passed the container to Chrys. Zeph shook his head and paced.

Light footsteps descended the stairs. Zeph froze. Waited. Behind him, he could feel the other gods trying to act normal, affect some casual nonchalance. He appreciated the effort, for Ella’s sake.

When she cleared where the staircase met the wall, she paused. “I’m done.”

Zeph could hardly breathe for the fresh, magnetic scent of her. Cheeks still pink from the warmth of the shower, hair damp over her shoulders, she looked lovely to him. “Okay. Should I…”

She glanced at Owen and Chrys, gave them a small smile that made Zeph’s heart hurt. “Yeah, let’s go back upstairs.”

Zeph followed her up and frowned when she led them into the office, not her bedroom. He had no context for her here. Even with the light on, the room felt formal, stiff. He didn’t know what to do with himself.

She sat on the far end of the futon. He followed her lead, choosing the middle—not as close as he wanted to be, but not as far as he could be.

Zeph dropped his head. “Ella?” When she didn’t answer, he turned toward her. Exhaustion and heartache painted her expression. He hated that he’d put those there. “Do you have marks on your neck?”

She gasped. Her hand tugged more hair over her shoulder. Though she normally tucked it behind her ears, he noticed she hadn’t. His stomach dropped.

“Can I get rid of those? Please?” he rasped, almost unable to talk for the rage and guilt bubbling up his throat.

“It’s fine,” she said, looking down.

“For the love of the gods, it is not even in the same realm as fine. The sheer number of ways I failed you…” He balled his fists and closed his eyes, reining himself in. No use scaring her by losing control. And he was hanging way out over the edge. “Please, Ella, I can’t begin to imagine—” He heaved a breath. “Please.”

It was a single nod, but it was all he needed.

He scooted right next to her, relieved to be closer. She smelled of vanilla and woman, that light, calming aura shimmering around her. “Can you pull your hair back?”

Her eyes flicked to his, then away. She pulled her hair into a ponytail and held it there.

Zeph ground his teeth to restrain the curses poised on the tip of his tongue. But mother of gods, his brother’s teeth had actually penetrated the top of her ear at one point, and otherwise left a semi-circular trail of angry bruises. As horrific, an enormous red-purple monster of a hickey dominated the tendon on the side of her neck.

Hand shaking, Zeph focused the healing energy over that round mark first. There would be more hell to pay with Aeolus for this, but it couldn’t be avoided. In this moment, undoing what he had caused was the only important thing in the world.

…

Ella’s eyes traced the weaving in the futon cover, humiliation rolling her stomach, heating her face, and making it impossible to look at Zephyros.

This was a mistake. She should never have—

“When I was young,” he began in a sad, quiet voice, “I had what you would understand as a wife. Her name was Chloris, and she was one of the goddesses of spring, of flowers, and of new growth.”

Jealousy flared in Ella’s belly, but then she’d been married before, hadn’t she? Though, not to a god.

“We weren’t together long, because of Eurus. I didn’t know it, but he loved her. His hatred for me, it started all these long millennia ago, because he believes I stole her from him. She didn’t love him, she didn’t even really notice him. But that didn’t matter to my brother. To get even, he told everyone in the Realm of the Gods that I’d kidnapped Chloris, held her hostage, and raped her until she acquiesced. He even lodged a formal complaint with our father, demanded an investigation.”

Ella gasped, and outrage for him stole her breath.

His hand cupped her neck. “We were young and impulsive. We essentially eloped. But I didn’t do those things, Ella. I promise.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest. “Oh, Zeph, I never would’ve thought you did, or that you ever could.”

He nodded. “The gods live and breathe on one another’s misfortune, and rumors spread about me and Chloris. We couldn’t go anywhere without murmurings we were meant to hear and blatantly disapproving looks we were meant to see. It wore on her. She cried all the time. Word finally made it to her father. He exploded. Beat me to a pulp, and I let him, because I hated that she’d been hurt. She finally left me, which gave credence to the rumors in some people’s minds.”

Zeph’s hand slid up to her ear, the warmth she recognized as his healing power spreading over her skin. She didn’t know what to say, so she just let him speak, let him purge some of the weight he’d been carrying. “I was alone for a long time after that.” His chuckle was without humor. “You can imagine that few were interested in me, given my reputation. Sometime later, I met another goddess of spring, Maia. We courted for a long time and planned to join our godhoods—what you would call marrying—but the week before the ceremony, she was found dead. Poisoned. No evidence could be found to identify the guilty.”

“Jesus, Zeph.” Ella’s sympathy was a heavy weight on her chest.

He shook his head. “Through all this, I had a close friend who believed me, supported me, and after Maia’s death, we became lovers. For a long time, we were together. Hyacinthus made me believe again, in love, in family, but then I learned that he had cheated on me—”

Ella gasped, and her stomach dropped through the floor. Her heart demanded empathy for the fact that he, too, had experienced the betrayal of unfaithfulness, but her brain, conditioned by Craig’s lies, reacted to the other thing he’d said—that this Hyacinthus person was a
he
.

Zeph’s eyes narrowed. “What are you thinking?” He caressed her cheek. “Your expression worries me.”

“I…um…nothing.”

“Please, Ella. Please tell me. I need your honesty as much as you’ve said you need mine.”

Well, when he put it that way… “Okay. So, uh, this Hyacinthus person, he was a…
he
?”

Zeph tilted his head. “Yes. Does that bother you?”

“Not for the reason you might think. I mean, I guess it’s a bit surprising, but I don’t have a moral objection or anything to homosexuality. It’s just, um, my husband, when he left me, he told me that he was gay. So it was better that we hadn’t been able to have children, because he wanted to leave. And I was…God, Zeph…I was so mad at him, not because he was gay, but because how could he not know it, you know? But then…then I found him in bed with my best friend—a woman, by the way—who was four months pregnant. He’d started sleeping with her before he broke up with me. When I confronted him, he said he thought thinking he was gay would be an easier let-down than knowing the truth.”

Zeph scowled, dark light flashing from his eyes. “Your husband was a coward and a fool, Ella, and you deserve so much better.” He scoffed. “Better than me, too. Last night proved that.”

“Zeph—”

“No, don’t. Though, I feel you should know that, where I’m from, becoming intimate with someone of the same sex is accepted, somewhat common even. We don’t distinguish or moralize the way humans do. But are you sure it’s something you could accept? Because Hy wasn’t the only man.”

Conflicting emotions stole Ella’s voice. Not because she had a problem with his sexuality, which was surprisingly intriguing, if she was honest, but because in answering him truthfully, she’d be giving him hope that they could be together. And given her wasted womb, they couldn’t. Not really. Finally, she murmured, “Your bisexuality is not a problem for me, Zeph. Honestly.” She chose her words carefully, aiming for honesty and neutrality, too. “So, I’m sorry, I interrupted. You said he’d cheated on you.”

He nodded and released a breath. “Yeah. Does the name Apollo mean anything to you?”

She shrugged. “Um, one of the gods who was supposed to have lived at Olympus?”

“Yes. One of the twelve Olympic gods. Zeus’s son. Very complicated, and very powerful. That’s who Hy was cheating with. In the end, guess who he picked?”

Ella didn’t need to ask. It was clear from the way his shoulders sagged and his eyes went downcast, he’d lost Hy not only as a lover, but as a friend. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“These stories, Ella, they go on and on. Every time I put myself out there again, put my heart on the line, I was betrayed or abandoned. I began to suspect Eurus was behind some of my bad luck, but at first I wrote that off as paranoia and scapegoating. But then someone I’d been with told me he broke off the relationship after Eurus had planted some concerns about me in his ear that he just couldn’t shake, just couldn’t risk. And my suspicions gained more and more credence in my mind. I can’t prove it, but everything in me tells me he murdered Maia, which is why what I did last night is so damn unforgiveable. Even I see that. I should’ve known. Because I’ve been through this with him in the past.”

Before he looked up, Ella fisted the dampness that spilled from one eye away. Apparently she didn’t get it all, though, because Zeph swiped a gentle thumb under her eye. “That you cry for me breaks my heart. I don’t deserve it.”

“Stop that, Zephyros. Stop it right now. You have been through hell. And you certainly didn’t deserve that. I’ve only been betrayed and left once, and I still struggle with trust. I question myself, my own judgment, the motives of the people around me. I get it.”

Zeph leaned in, and Ella nearly groaned as she breathed in his clean masculine scent. Part of her wanted to close the gap between, to taste that scent off his skin. “I know I failed you, and I will regret that for the rest of my life. But I have to ask—can you see your way to forgiving me? To trying again?”

Ella closed her eyes and shook her head, willing her emotions under control. If she fell apart now, she’d fall right into him, and then what her body wanted would take over with no regard for what her mind knew was right. She blew out a breath. Once. Twice.

“Just tell me,” he whispered. “Tell me what I have to do to win you back.”

“It’s not that easy. I wish it was. And, anyway, it’s not the only thing.”

“What do you mean?”

Despite the sweatshirt she wore, she shivered and wrapped her arms around herself. “Eurus said something—”

He groaned. “Ella, please do not listen to what he told you. Do not act on the lies he spreads. This is his M.O., over and over.”

She heaved a breath, expecting just that reaction after what he’d shared with her. And while she had no doubt that Eurus had twisted the truth and lied and manipulated in those other situations, here, it was the truth. Plain and simple. “I can’t have children, Zephyros.”

His brow furrowed. “I know that. We spoke of that. I don’t—”

“And you…you need an heir. Right? You need—”

Zeph flew off the couch, paced. “Damn it all to Hades, he’s doing it again.” He whirled to face her. “Don’t you see, Ella? He found your greatest fear, your greatest insecurity, and he played it, planted doubt within your mind. Don’t let him, Ella. Don’t let him pull us apart.”

Ella’s breathing hitched. Haltingly, she said, “You didn’t say he lied.”

“What?”

“He didn’t lie, did he? You need an heir. And if you’re with me, you could never have one. And then…what? I know nothing of your world, Zephyros. What would that mean for you?”

He shifted feet, clenched and unclenched his hands. After a long moment, he finally said, “It means nothing we’d have to worry about now.”

Ella narrowed her gaze at him. “That’s not the same as saying it would mean nothing.”

He held out his hands. “We would figure it out.”

“What if we couldn’t? Where would that leave you?”

Zeph came to her then, sank down onto his knees before her. Big hands rested gently on her shins. “It would leave me with you, Marcella Raines. You, who have opened my heart again to love, brought warmth and light into my existence once more, who have believed in me in ways I haven’t known in eons. I would be with you. And it would be enough. It would be everything.”

Ella gasped as a new obstacle reared up in her mind. “Until I got old and died.” Oh, God, why had she not thought of that sooner? Them, together, twenty years from now, thirty, forty—him appearing just as he did now, and her…She shook her head.

“Be well. It wouldn’t have to be like that. Owen’s wife is human, but shares his immortality. We have ways.”

“Oh,” she said dumbly, relief flooding and confusing her at the same time. And that was part of the problem. The intensity of his speech, the desire in his eyes—it was impossible to think when he was touching her, pleading with her, weaving a future with his words so wonderful she wanted nothing more than to believe.

“I love you, Ella. If you feel the same for me, that’s all I need to know. Everything else will fall in around that, just the way it should.”