Page 94 of A Veil of Gods and Kings

He bobbed his head. “All right. Let’s go see your play.”

32

Apollo

I followed Hyacinth into the booth. An empty stage with gleaming wood floors made up half the room in the lower section. Attendees already filed in, finding seats on curved benches.

Hyacinth eased into a chair, the gold threading of his robe glinting in the subdued light. I dropped beside him. “Are we alone tonight?”

“Yes. Emrin had other plans, and Temi has kept Pip busy.”

I leaned back farther in the seat. Someone lit candles on the stage, their flames flickering against the wood floor. “With what?”

“I don’t know. Horseback riding, I think.”

I sat back up. “She’s convinced Temi to ride horses?”

He shrugged. “It would seem so.”

“Interesting.” I hadn’t spent enough time with Temi lately. I needed to remedy that before we ran out of time. A massive chandelier dimmed. The humming of conversations around the room hushed, and two actors in bright costumes swept out on the stage. The box fell into shadows. Hyacinth’s skin glimmered like a silver shimmer of moonlight bathed him. “It’s dark in here,” I whispered.

Hyacinth kept his gaze on the actors who strode out, their voices echoing off the high ceilings. “It’s annoying for others to observe you the entire time you’re trying to take in a show.”

“I can’t imagine anyone would see you here at all.”

Hyacinth snapped his head to the side in agreement. The musicians played, their music flooding the air, draping us farther from the crowd seated in the lower part of the theater.

I slid my hand over Hyacinth’s knee. He froze, his breath catching. I trailed my fingers up along the tensed muscle of his thigh, tracing the curve of his leg before stilling. I leaned in and whispered, my lips grazing his ear, and he shivered. “Should I stop?”

He remained quiet for a heartbeat, his dark lashes batting his cheeks. He swallowed and then shook his head. A grin cut across my face, and I allowed my hands to wander farther. Hyacinth whimpered, his lips parting, his chin jutting up, the long line of his neck scarcely visible in the theater's darkness. That’s how he’d look in a moment of release, his head dropping back in some strange mixture of control and relenting. And I longed for it, to see his features embraced in the gold of lamplight, to see his skin bared for me, to run my fingers down the planes of his body.

I knew why I shouldn’t. But I wanted it anyway.

Hyacinth sucked in a breath, fine lines rippling over his forehead. I pulled my hand back down to his knee, and he groaned. “You bastard.”

“I bet I could make you call me more than that.”

His features tensed. “I bet you could,” he whispered.

I smirked and traced my fingers along his thigh again, flitting over his hips, drifting across his stomach. He clamped his teeth down, his face frozen towards the stage, but his eyes closed.

An hour passed, my hands never returning to me. I kept bringing him to the edge, watching his features transform, and then drawing back. His shoulders dropped with a breath, but he never pushed for more or asked me to stop.

When the performance ended, he stood, clearing his throat, and adjusted his robe. I guess all that fabric finally had a purpose. Hyacinth jutted his chin towards the doorway, and we swept out together. We ambled down the hallways of the palace in silence. Something brewed in Hyacinth’s eyes. His gaze drifted along the patterned rugs and gold gilded wall mouldings, but he seemed unaware of them.

We reached his bedroom door, and he stopped. He lifted his face, rolling his shoulders back, some decision clicking into place in his expression. He grabbed my hand. “Stay with me tonight?”

“Hyacinth, I… I probably shouldn’t…”

He chuckled. “You’re going to tease me like that at the performance and then tell me no?”

I froze. Somehow I knew in that moment that if we crossed that line, it would undo some part of me I’d swallowed down, locked up, shoved away. And standing there facing it terrified me. A tremble coursed over my muscles.

“Hey.” Hyacinth’s voice dropped, and he stepped in closer. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do anything. I shouldn’t have joked about that.”

His emotions shimmered across the hazel surface of his eyes. His lips parted, like they had in the theater, and something snapped within me. I had a few months left before my human life ceased forever. And the only thing I wished for in that moment—wanted it so desperately it swept through me like a hunger—was to be with Hyacinth. Never had a desire for anything swelled within me like that before. I didn’t want him to end up hurt. But we could keep this a secret. Zeus didn’t have to find out. I shook my head and pulled in even tighter to him, our bodies brushing. “No. I want to stay.”

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, his breath feathering my cheek.