Hades’s words had ignited a primal urge within Dionysus to protect Ariadne.
Unfortunately, that primal urge was directly linked to his madness, and it took everything within his power to quell the tremors shaking his spine, to shove down his anger, to stay rooted to the spot and not go after the God of the Dead and tear him limb from limb.
You would never win, he told himself. Even with frenzied strength, he was no match for one of the three most powerful Olympians.
“Gods, he is the worst,” Ariadne said.
It took him a few more breaths before his heart stopped racing, and then he met her gaze.
“He isn’t the worst, believe it or not,” said Dionysus. “But Theseus certainly is.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying he isn’t wrong about Theseus,” said Dionysus. “If Phaedra doesn’t go back to him, he will come for her. He’ll come for you.”
“We knew that going in,” she said. “Are you saying you regret it?”
“I’ll only regret it if anyone gets hurt,” he said.
He could tell she didn’t like his response by the way her lips flattened.
“Take me to her,” she said and paused. “Please.”
His eyes lowered to her bloodied clothes. “I think you might want to shower first.”
She looked down at herself as if she’d forgotten she’d just come from the labyrinth.
“I don’t have clothes,” she said.
“I’ll find you some.”
He thought she would leave then to go downstairs, but she hesitated.
“The baby,” she said. “Is he healthy?”
“Yes,” said Dionysus.
“And…who does he look like?”
“You mean other than an alien?”
She rolled her eyes. “I should have known better than to ask.” She turned and headed for the door.
“I think he has your nose,” Dionysus called after her. She paused, and when she turned to look at him, he added, “And your eyes.”
“You can’t know that,” she said. “He’s just a baby.”
“I would know your eyes anywhere,” he said.
She pressed her lips together, as if she were trying not to smile, and left his suite.
When he was alone, he blew out a frustrated breath.
Gods.
What the fuck was he thinking?
He should never have gone down this path with her. He didn’t know how he’d managed to come this far or how he’d gotten so involved in this battle between the Olympians and the demigods, but here he was, delivering babies and kidnapping wives. He might as well have painted a target on his back, because he’d just invited a fucking sociopath into his territory.
And it was all because of Ariadne.
Fucking feelings, he thought as he left his suite and headed to the basement.
As he stepped off the elevator, he found the maenads scattered around the living area. Some were knitting, some cleaning weapons, some reading. A group of them were gathered in front of one of several television screens watching the finale of Titans After Dark…or whatever it was called.
As he crossed the room, he caught a glimpse of Oceanus on screen, his face stricken with horror as he looked at Gaia, who wailed beside him. They were watching the world burn, ignited by Zeus’s lightning in the aftermath of the death of Typhon, who, in a previous episode, had laid siege to Mount Olympus.
Not that Dionysus was invested or anything. It just unnerved him. He felt like he was about to watch the same scene unfold around him in the mortal world.
Dionysus made his way down one of several darkened hallways that branched off the main room in search of Naia, who would likely have clothes for Ariadne.
The door to her room was ajar, but he knocked anyway, not wishing to intrude. She answered quickly, a book in her hand.
“You okay?” she asked, her eyes alight with amusement.
Clearly Lilaia had told her about what had transpired in the delivery room. He narrowed his eyes.
“How much do you know?” he asked.
“Oh, everything,” she said.
“And how many of the maenads know?”
“Oh, everyone,” she assured him.
Dionysus sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Great.”
“If it helps, I expected you to faint,” she said.
“It doesn’t,” Dionysus said dryly.
She snickered.
“I came to see if you have any clothes I could borrow,” he said.
“We’re not really the same size, Dionysus.”
“For Ariadne,” he said. “She’s out of the labyrinth.”
Naia’s amusement withered. “Is she okay?”
“I think so,” he said. “She yells at me like she is.”
Naia frowned. “Did you ask her if she was okay?”
“No,” he said. “I didn’t exactly have a chance.”
He decided not to tell her about how Hades had also yelled at them.
Naia pursed her lips but said nothing. She disappeared into her room and came back with a bundle of clothes.
“She’s not all right, Dionysus,” said Naia.
“Then I guess she’ll tell her sister,” he said.
Naia leveled a hard look at him. “You care about her?”
“Do you really have to ask?”
“Then make sure she’s okay,” she said, shoving the bundle into his chest.
“Fine, I’ll ask,” he said. “But you know what she’s going to say? Just take me to my sister.”
“The point is, Dionysus, that you cared enough to ask.”
He was still thinking about Naia’s words as he wandered down the hall to Ariadne’s room. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. He tried the handle, and it turned, but he hesitated to enter. Was this an invasion of privacy? She had to know he was coming to deliver her clothes, right?
The sheer amount of anxiety this gave him was absolutely absurd, yet he didn’t want to give Ariadne any more reason to be irritated with him.
He cracked the door.
“Ari,” he called into the room.
Again, there was no answer, and he assumed that meant she was still in the shower and it was safe to enter.
He slipped inside.
Her room was sparse, having only a small bed and desk. She hadn’t tried to make this a home, though Dionysus was not all that surprised. She hadn’t exactly come here willingly and had spent her early days trying to escape. She stayed now because she was in danger—because Theseus wanted her, though that did not seem to scare her as much as it should. She was willing to risk herself for others, even if they did not wish to be saved.
Her sister was a prime example. He wasn’t sure he’d ever tell her the truth of Phaedra’s rescue, which was that she had begged to stay.
“It will be worse for everyone if I leave,” she’d said.
“We will keep you safe,” Dionysus had said, but he knew what had convinced her to leave with them, and that was the promise of seeing Ariadne. It was a testament to the love they had for each other, but Dionysus knew Phaedra’s fear of Theseus was stronger. She would return to her husband. The only question was how much destruction Theseus would have to cause before she left.
And would her return even stop his chaos?
Dionysus approached Ariadne’s bed with the intention of leaving her clothes there, but as he did, he noticed a picture pinned to the wall. It was creased and stained, yet that did not dull the bright smiles of a young Ariadne and Phaedra staring back. It made him wonder what led them to where they were now, but he thought he could guess the answer. It was a predator named Theseus.
His eyes lowered to her bed, and as he set the clothes down, he noticed something sticking out from under it. He bent to pick it up and found it was a leather-bound journal.
“What are you doing?”
Dionysus whirled to find Ariadne in the doorway of her bathroom. She stood, wrapped in a white towel, her dark hair plastered to her head. He knew she’d asked him a question, but he couldn’t think beyond her and the water dripping off her body, which led to other thoughts like the fact that she was naked under that towel and how she’d felt against him and around him in the cave.
Fuck. He was aroused, and she wasn’t even naked.
Ariadne’s eyes fell to the journal in his hands. At first, she looked horrified, and then she looked pissed.
Say something, you idiot! he thought, but he couldn’t unstick his tongue from the top of his mouth.
She crossed to him and yanked the journal away, simultaneously dropping her towel.
Suddenly, she was naked, and Dionysus continued to be speechless, but he did manage to retrieve her towel—or at least he tried, but Ariadne moved at the same time. Their heads knocked together hard, and while Dionysus barely felt anything, the impact sent Ariadne to the ground. It did not help that she landed in what was probably the most erotic position ever—on her back with her legs splayed.
Fuck me, he thought.
She lifted herself up onto her elbows and rubbed her head.
“Gods, I hate you,” she whined.
Those words shook him, and he realized he was still holding her towel.
He shoved it out to her and then offered his hand, helping her to her feet. He held up the journal she’d dropped too. She took it and hugged it to her chest along with the towel.
“I didn’t read it,” he said quickly. “I just saw it on the floor and picked it up.” Though now he had to admit he was even more curious about what was inside. “I…uh…” he said, swallowing. “I brought you some clothes. They’re from Naia.”
Gods, he was embarrassing.
“Thank you,” she said.
They stared at each other, and then he lifted his hand, calling on his magic to heal the blossoming redness across her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed beneath his touch, and his fingers lingered, tracing along her cheekbone to the corner of her mouth.
He wanted to kiss her there, but instead, he dropped his hand.
She opened her eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked. He hoped she knew he was asking about more than just her head.
“I will be,” she said. “Once I see my sister.”
It was the answer he had expected, but he understood.
“I’ll let you get dressed,” he said.
When he stepped outside her room, he ran his hands over his braids, hooking them behind his neck.
“You are a fucking idiot,” he muttered to himself and proceeded to pace until she emerged a few minutes later. “Ready?” he asked.
He knew the answer, but he felt like he needed to ask before teleporting.
She nodded, taking a breath. She seemed nervous, and he wondered why. From what he could tell, she and Phaedra had a good relationship, though it was possible Theseus had poisoned the connection between them.
“I’m ready,” she said.
He offered his hand. He didn’t need to touch her to teleport, but he thought it might be comforting. She didn’t hesitate, and when his fingers closed around hers, they vanished, appearing in the living room of his home.
When they arrived, she immediately released his hand.
“Where is she?”
“In your room,” he said and then corrected himself. “Well, not your room, exactly. The guest room.”
He had never seen her eyes so bright or her excitement so high, and truthfully, it made him sad. It was the first time he realized what all this had really done to her.
She started toward the door but paused.
“Thank you, Dionysus,” she said. “You don’t know how much this means to me.”
He hoped it meant the world, because that was exactly what it would cost.
She did not wait for a reaction. She turned and raced to the door, knocking quietly.
There was a pause, and then it opened, at first only a crack and then wider, and there was Phaedra, ghostly pale, illuminated from behind by a warm amber light.
“Ariadne,” she whispered.
Ariadne nodded, her mouth quivering, but it was Phaedra who burst into tears first, and then she threw her arms around Ariadne’s neck and sobbed.
Dionysus left the sisters then. It felt intrusive to linger.
He headed down the hall to his room and showered. When he was done, he climbed into bed. For a while, he just lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. His mind felt so full of words and emotions, he could not even begin to process what had taken place over the last twenty-four hours. He just hoped that when Theseus came, he was powerful enough to protect his people.
It was late when Dionysus woke to Ariadne entering his room. He didn’t remember falling asleep and wasn’t sure how long he’d been out. He rose onto his elbow.
“Ari?” he asked, feeling groggy and a little disoriented. He spoke as he yawned. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He might be half-asleep, but he thought that was strange. “What exactly did you mean to do?”
She stared at him from the end of the bed, and then it dipped with her weight, and he watched in disbelief as she crawled to him.
Suddenly, he was very much awake.
“Ari,” he said.
“Dionysus,” she replied, her voice a heady whisper.
“What are you doing?” he asked as she guided him to his back with a hand on his chest.
“What does it look like?” she asked as she straddled his already-hard cock.
This has to be a fucking dream, he thought.
He let his hands rest on her thighs.
“I think you should explain it,” he said. “In detail.”
Her eyes glittered in the darkness, and she rolled her hips against him lightly, as if testing how he felt against her.
He let out an audible breath.
“I wanted to thank you again,” she said. “For rescuing my sister.”
He raised a brow. “By having sex with me?” he asked.
“Are you saying you don’t want to?” she asked, planting her hands against his chest, grinding harder against him.
Fuck, she was making this difficult. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. He didn’t want the feelings that would inevitably come with it.
His fingers pressed into her thighs.
“I’m saying I don’t want you to fuck me because you feel obligated,” he said.
“I don’t feel obligated,” she said.
She bent and pressed a kiss to his chest and then another.
“Ari.”
But at the sound of her name, she ran her tongue over his nipple, then her teeth, and he decided he didn’t really care why she’d come to his bed, only that she was here and touching him.
She kissed down his stomach, tugging the blankets away until her mouth hovered over his cock.
This is really happening, he thought as she met his gaze.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, except he was really hoping she would.
She didn’t say anything, just took him into her hand and licked him from root to tip. He thought he was going to die, except he couldn’t, because then he would miss this whole thing, and he really didn’t want to miss this.
He was also really glad she couldn’t hear his thoughts, because that would be embarrassing.
“Fuck yes, Ari,” he hissed as her warm and wet mouth closed over his cock, her tongue swirling in dizzying circles.
He reached for her hair, raking it to the side so he could see her better, watching as her head bobbed and her mouth stroked. When she released him, it was with an audible pop and a delicious groan.
Then she met his gaze and smiled, licking the come that had beaded at the tip of his cock. He wasn’t sure what was more arousing, the feel of her mouth or the fact that she was having fun doing this.
“Fucking tease,” he said, inhaling between his teeth as she ran her tongue lightly over the pulsing veins of his shaft, all the way to his balls, which she lavished with her tongue.
When she started to move back to his dick, he sat up and she followed. Their mouths collided, and Dionysus gripped her ass, pulling her forward so her knees were on either side of him and his cock rested between her thighs. His hands dipped beneath her shirt, smoothing up her sides to her breasts. He squeezed them and teased them. All the while, she rocked against him.
His head felt so hot he thought it was going to explode.
They parted long enough for Ariadne to pull her shirt over her head, and then Dionysus buried his face between her breasts and took each of them into his mouth, tasting her sweet skin. He liked the way she arched against him, the way she pulled his hair.
“I want you inside me,” she said as she kissed him.
He said nothing because he couldn’t. His mind was blank, filled to the brim with nothing but sensation and need.
He wanted inside her too.
She shifted away, pulling off her shorts before rising onto her knees and straddling his lap. He pulled her closer, and he ran the tip of his cock through her wet heat, pushing deeper when he knew he was in the right spot. Then Ariadne slid down, and her legs locked around his waist. Every part of them was aligned, including their eyes. It was intimate in a different way, beyond just being inside her.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he said.
A small smile curved her lips, and she leaned forward, her mouth moving over his as she teased. “And you didn’t want me.”
“I always want you,” he said. “Even when you don’t want me.”
Then he kissed her hard, and Ariadne pressed against him, hugging him tighter. He was so deep inside her, his balls rested against her ass, and he could feel her clit scrape against the hair on his lower stomach.
She used him for her pleasure, and he grew harder inside her. There was a primal part of him that could not help moving, aching to thrust into her.
Finally he lay back, bringing her with him, and rolled. He did not think she could get any more beautiful, but she stared up at him with hooded eyes and a swath of dark hair fanning out over her head, touching and squeezing her full and swollen breasts as he drove into her.
His body felt like it was on fire as he watched her writhe beneath him, and he knew she was close when she reached between them and rubbed her clit. Soon after, she dug in her heels and lifted her hips, and he felt her whole body tighten around him.
He bore down when he felt it, grinding into her as she gripped him tight, and then his orgasm hit, shuddering through him so violently, his arms and legs went numb.
Light-headed, he lowered his body, and though he could barely breathe, he kissed her deeply.
This time wasn’t like the last when he hadn’t known how to handle her after sex. Then, he’d doubted she wanted anything more from him once they had finished, but this time, he gave it no thought. He did what he felt guided to do and was pleased when she kissed him back.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
He frowned. He couldn’t tell what she was thanking him for, but if it was the sex, he wished she wouldn’t. He rolled onto his back and then sat up.
“If you want to freshen up, you can use my bathroom,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said again.
The words made him grind his teeth. He wasn’t sure why they put him on edge so much, but each time she said them, he felt like they were strangers.
She rose from bed and went into the bathroom. The light blinded him for a brief moment until she shut the door. While she cleaned up, he gathered her clothes, expecting that she would want to dress and leave quickly, but when she returned, she lingered at the end of the bed.
“Can I stay? Just…for a little while.”
Her question sent a thrill through him, though he thought it was odd that she was so bold when it came to sex, but in this, she seemed shy.
“Of course,” he said.
He pulled the blankets down for her as she crawled into bed next to him. He held her close, one arm beneath her head, the other wrapped around her waist. Their bare bodies felt seamless and warm. It was murder on his cock, which was already hard against her ass, but he refused to give in to his desire until she was ready.
They were quiet, and soon, Dionysus’s eyes grew heavy, but before he succumbed to sleep, he needed to ask her one question.
“Did you see Theseus?” he asked. “In the labyrinth?”
It took her a moment to answer, but when she did, he could tell her voice was thick with tears.
“I didn’t see him, no,” she said. “Just the horror he was capable of.”
