Page 125 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

“Ugh. That nickname.”

The casualness of the conversation, considering everything happening between us, seemed to hum in the air. Cyn shifted on his feet. “Come on. I believe you may be right about washing up.”

I smirked and grabbed a bar of pressed soap from my bag. “After you, Your Highness.”

45

Hyacinth

The water of the lake came surprisingly cool, refreshing after the heat of walking all day. We eased into the waters, and words suddenly seemed lost between us. I dunked under the surface, a fish slipping by my leg as I lathered the soap in my hands. There was nothing like hours under the sun to leave you filthy.

Apollo studied me, his eyes the dull brown of the veil he wore. He skimmed over me slowly, appraising. I cleared my throat.

He eased forward and stuck his hand out. “Let me.”

A shiver ran down my spine, and I handed the soap over to him.

He lathered it between his palms, tossed the bar onto the bank, and swam so close to me that our skin grazed beneath the water. My heart fluttered, and he scrubbed over my head, massaging my scalp, teasing his hands down my ears, along my neck. His nose, cool and soft, brushed my cheek.

My mouth found his. Our lips parted. A hunger snatched its way into our touches, a greediness that drove our fingers forward exploring muscles, tasting skin, nerves zipping with electricity. Apollo leaned back after a minute, a smile I’d never seen before resting on his face. One side of his smile pulled up more than the other, his eyes filled with the reflection of the moon. He traced his thumb over my lip and then smirked. “You need to rinse.”

I laughed, pulling away from him, and plunged under the water.

“Why do you keep your hair short?” he said when I re-emerged.

It was about the tenth unexpected thing he’d said that night, and I shook my head. “Do you wish I didn’t?”

He swam closer to me. “No.” He traced his finger down my arm, slowly, like he touched something sacred. “I love you”—he darted his eyes up to me—“just as you are.”

A rumble of desire roiled through my chest, and we crashed into each other. Our touches came rough, possessive. Like we could absorb the other, snag some piece of their essence, and tuck it down into a dark portion of ourselves where it could flicker and warm us until we shone with it.

Apollo pressed us against soft grasses meandering by the bank. His mouth bruised mine and then traced down my neck, over my collarbone, along my bare chest.

“Apollo,” I breathed.

He froze, leaning up. “What is it?”

“Let me see you.”

He frowned, his eyebrows drawing together. “You mean…”

“Yes. Remove your veil.” His expression crumpled, and I reached up, snagging his jaw between my hands. “I love you, just as you are, too. All of you. Let me see.”

He sighed and then raised his hand. His features sharpened, the outline of his muscles darkening. A silver essence glowed against his skin and reflected in the water. His eyes sparkled golden, like lightning bugs shimmering against the dark.

Apollo clenched his teeth and dropped his face.

I snagged his chin again and lifted it. I waited until he opened his eyes, until they locked onto mine. Then I flipped him over, letting my hands and body guide me. But I didn’t kiss him. I didn’t lower my face or drop his eye contact. It was like making love to a star, his light enfolding both of us, his eyes holding so much sadness and hope it hurt. But I kept his gaze. Held it until his expression scrunched up with his release and he cried out against the chirping, croaking sounds of the world.

He shuddered, and I drew him to me until my lips traced his ear where I could whisper. “You’re beautiful, Apollo. Every part of you.”

He bowed into me, and I held him, the sweet smell of soap swirling with the brackishness of the water. The silver shimmer around him reflected on my skin, and I glowed along with him, like we were two young deities, bound to the other, wrapped into some small corner of the world as cattails rattled together, stars streaking the heavens, flashing in a glorious burst of light before they faded.

I tucked my chin into his shoulder and whispered truth into his hair.

You’re beautiful.

You’re good.