by Lazu, Sotia
“Hey, big guy. Glad you called. I was thinking about you,” Circe said in Greek. Her voice almost deafened him, coming out in speaker mode.
He cursed under his breath and turned the speaker option off. Holding up a finger to Olivia, he took the phone to the bathroom. “I need your help,” he said to Circe, in the same language. “The unraveling has begun. I was wrecking my bedroom when I called you, and I couldn’t stop it.”
She huffed. “Have you found your soulmate yet?”
“Yes.” There was no doubt in his mind.
“Then you need to bond with her.”
“I’ve already made love to her.” Repeatedly.
“Not enough. She needs to give you her heart while you mate.” Circe sounded like she tasted something sour.
Hyperion frowned at the phone. “Not literally, I hope.”
She let out a throaty laugh. “No, gramps; it’s a figure of speech. She only has to pledge her love and mean it. And soon, or the balance will be lost for good.”
So he was on the right track. But— “What if she doesn’t? Is there another option?”
The silence on the other end of the line dragged so long, he thought she’d ended the call. “The only one I can think of is to turn you back to stone.”
Not an option, then. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
He left the phone by the sink and returned to his room, ready to get his woman to admit she was his, but Olivia very much had moved. In fact, she stood fully dressed by the coffee table, arms crossed and her face a mask of fury.
“Mr. Titanas—”
“It’s Hyperion.”
“Mr. Titanas,” she said more pointedly, “you hired me to be your PA, not your whore.”
“What are you—”
She raised her voice. “I’m not a warm body for you to fuck while you wait for other women to call.”
She thought he wanted Circe? This was preposterous. He only had eyes for Olivia. He chuckled. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m glad you think it’s funny, big guy. I’ll be staying with Christina until I find a place of my own—which you’ll pay for, as per our agreement—and I’ll be here every morning at eight, for work. But you touch me or mind-fuck me or whatever again, and you’ll be hearing from my lawyer.” Chin raised defiantly, she made her way toward the exit.
“Olivia, I—”
“No.” Her voice wavered. “You don’t get to say you love me or that you’re sorry, or anything to get me back into the sack.”
What sack? What was she talking about? He blocked her path. “I do love you. The phone call wasn’t what you think.”
She slapped his chest with her open palms. “So you didn’t leave me naked and dripping for you, to talk to another woman?” She pushed, but he didn’t budge.
“Yes, but—”
“Let me go, or I swear you’ll never see me again.”
He stood aside, and she ran to the elevator. He knew where to find her, and he’d explain everything once she cooled off. Letting her simmer a little might make her more open to accepting the truth—that they were meant to be together.
This was what logic dictated, but with his dick still hard, Hyperion wasn’t about logic. He was a tightly wound coil of raw hunger, ready to devour the world, to get to her.
The floor shook, and screams reached his ears. People in the neighboring rooms. The tremors weren’t localized.
Olivia. He had to keep her safe.
Chapter Seventeen
Olivia smashed her thumb on the -1 button, and then hugged herself.
He’d left her there, kneeling naked on his bed, wet and aching for him, so he could talk to whoever that woman on the phone was. Megale. Olivia knew enough Greek to recognize the word for big guy, and by the lilt in the woman’s voice, she didn’t mean Hyperion’s height.
Hot tears ran down Olivia’s cheeks, as the doors slid shut. She’d believed him, God damn it. When he’d said he was in love with her, she’d believed him. His eyes had been so honest, and that catch in his throat? Nice touch. Really sold it.
She wiped furiously at her eyes. Worst part? She was ready to say it back, when he left the room to whisper sweet nothings to his other mistress, while his cock was still drenched in Olivia’s juices. Yes, after only forty-eight hours, she was in love with the big oaf. It was hard to believe she could fall so fast, but her body was in tune to his every move, without him even touching her, and when he looked at her with those big, gorgeous eyes of his, her heart melted. His voice felt like a caress, soothing her and making her feel safe.
She snorted. Safe. She’d worried about his superhuman strength, but it hadn’t been his hands that broke her heart.
A sob wound around her lungs and slipped out of her lips. He’d left her, mid-sex. She’d been so humiliated, and yet she’d actually considered staying where she was and waiting for him to come back and finish what he’d started. Where was her self-respect?
Something jostled her. The floor trembled under her feet. She was dizzy. She hadn’t eaten since last night, and the vigorous workout had left her weak.
“Olivia.”
Was he speaking in her head? But she wasn’t hot for him now. Or rather, she was blazing hot, but with anger, not lust.
“Olivia, we need to get out of here.”
She spun on her heel and saw him standing there, still naked. “How did you—?”
He cut her off with an impatient wave of his hand. “I’ll explain later. Need to get you to safety first.” He held out both arms, like he meant to hug her.
Olivia took a step back. “No. I told you, you’re never touching me again.”
“You’re in danger, woman.”
The elevator shook, and she stumbled back but righted herself with a hand on the polished-wood wall. “Are you doing this?” she whispered.
Hyperion threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t mean to. I’m trying to stop, but we have to get you out of here.” When he looked at her again, there was nothing human in his eyes. They were pure liquid gold. He reached for her, and she batted away his hand.
“I’ll be fine if you leave.” She didn’t believe it, but her self-preservation instinct seemed more worried about his proximity than about being stuck in here during an earthquake.
The mirror on the wall behind him rattled and shattered in a million shards.
Seven years bad luck.
Snap.
And the countdown started now.
The car lurched, and then pivoted downward.
Olivia screamed, before logic kicked in. They’d be okay. Elevators had emergency brakes, for this kind of situation. It was compulsory.
Except, maybe they didn’t work in cases of Titan-induced shaking, because their descent never slowed.
Time seemed to creep to a halt, as Hyperion closed the distance between them and wrapped an arm around her waist. The tendons in his neck stood out, and the muscles in his jaws bulged with effort. Was he going to fly them up? Up to where?
“Chaos.” It took a moment for Olivia to realize this was an exclamation, and not a description of their situation. “I can’t blink us out of here,” he said through clenched teeth.
The lights in the cabin flickered, as it picked up speed.
God, he’d come to save her. The world rocked and rolled, and Hyperion cared about saving her. He did love her, and now they were going to die, and she hadn’t told him she loved him.
No. She was going to die, and he’d never know how she felt.
“Hyperion—”
She was silenced by his fist going through the wall beside her head. A loud screeching sound made her wince. Sparks came out of the hole he’d created.
He was using his hand as a brake, to slow their fall. The bit about being super strong hadn’t been an exaggeration.
Olivia threw her arms around his neck and clung to him. If this didn’t work, if she was going to die, she’d make the most of her final moments. “I love you,” she said.
The car stopped, and Hyperion let go of her to wedge open the doors with his free hand. They were suspended between floors. “Go,” he said.
She pressed her lips to his, and he responded with such ferocity, he destroyed any lingering doubt about his feelings.
“Go,” he repeated when he broke the kiss.
“What about you?”
“I’ll be okay. I’m immortal, remember?” He held the doors open while she climbed out.
Olivia turned to meet his gaze. The earthquake was over. They’d be okay.
His sad smile made her heart stutter. It wasn’t the look of a man who just had his feelings reciprocated. “Hyperion,” she cried out, as the doors slid shut between them. “No.”
A deafening sound rocked the bowels of the building.
The elevator had crashed.
She ran to the staircase and took it all the way down, two steps at a time. People scurried around, but other than plaster chaffing off the walls at points, she saw no damage.
Because the epicenter of the earthquake had been in the elevator. With her.
She made it to the bottom, and part of her didn’t want to look. What if she saw Hyperion’s body, broken and bloodied?
The elevator doors on the basement level were folded outward, the metal bent in places by what could be two giant sets of knuckles, like someone huge and powerful and timeless had punched his way out.
Hyperion wasn’t here. He had to be okay.
Her breath came out in bursts, and her heart hammered in her chest as she took the stairs again, this time up. Her legs felt as sturdy as boiled spaghetti, but her heart soared. He’d be in the suite, and she’d run to him and tell him she was his until the end of her mortal life.
The lights were out on the top floor, but she made her way to the suite in the fading sunlight that made it through the window at the end of the corridor. The door stood ajar, and Olivia nudged her way in, searching the wall for the light switch. She found it and flicked it on, and a sole unbroken lamp came on. Pieces of the ceiling had landed on the furniture and smashed the coffee table. The flat-screen TV hung lopsided on the wall, and there was no vase or glass standing upright.
“Hyperion?” But she already knew he wasn’t here.
A new bout of terror squeezed her insides as she went to his room, to find more devastation. Broken glass crunched underfoot, but amid the chaos, she saw his cell phone.
Maybe he’d gone to save that other woman...
Olivia squashed the pang of jealousy that threatened to rip through her insides and scrolled to last calls. She’d only check if the woman had heard from him. It was concern for his wellbeing, really.
She chose the top incoming call—Circe—pressed Call, and the same female voice from before picked up on the first ring, with, “Ola kala?” Everything okay, in Greek.
“Do you know where Hyperion is?” Olivia tried to keep her voice calm.
“You’re her,” the woman said.
He’d talked to her about Olivia?
“Yes.” Olivia didn’t know what she agreed to. “There was an earthquake. He was in the elevator when it crashed. I can’t find him.” A shrill edge crept into her words. “Is he with you?”
“No.”
Then where was he?
His words from earlier came back to Olivia. My favorite place... Why hadn’t she let him say more about it, like where the hell it was? “There’s a secluded beach he used to love. Caves and volcanic rock.”
“Aspes,” the woman said. “I know the place. Stay where you are. I’m sending someone to get you.”
Why did this woman know Hyperion’s favorite place? A fresh wave of jealousy washed over Olivia, threatening to take her under. She resisted. “I can have a friend drive m—”
The line went dead. Awesome. Vangelis would take her there, if he wasn’t off with Hyperion. If Aspes was in Chania, he’d know the place. Or they could look it up on a map.
A spot of blinding white light twirled in the air before her, gathering mass with every turn. Limbs elongated from it, and then a tall, gorgeous man about her age smiled down at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “Ready?” he asked.
“For what?”
He clasped her wrist, and the room dissolved around her.
Chapter Eighteen
Even after all these centuries, Hyperion recognized the place.
The sea had altered the waterline, and pollution and tourists had corroded the mouth of the cave, but he still felt like he ruled the world when he stood where the waves broke. The sky and the water and the earth met here, where his toes dug into the sand and were covered by sea foam. Gold and purple pushed out the blue of the skies, cradling the rising sun as it blossomed in the horizon.
This was where he once sought solace and peace. It’d make a fitting spot for him to spend the rest of eternity, as a statue. Wasn’t that different from where Atlas had stood to support the sky, before the solar system was put into place to relieve him.
Hyperion had left his cell phone at the hotel—no clothes meant no pockets—but the witch could no doubt spot him, like she had at the restaurant. Her presence there hadn’t been a coincidence.
As a rule, he wasn’t the dramatic, self-sacrificing sort. He’d leave such grand gestures to Prometheus, thank you very much. No, Hyperion had always been of the live-and-let-live mentality. He wouldn’t cause harm on purpose, but he put himself first. And then a slip of a human girl had come into his life and turned it upside down.
When he went after her in the elevator, he’d been determined to come clean. He’d save her and admit he was the reason for the destruction, but only because of his unfulfilled destiny. He was going to ask her to bond with him and keep him sane.
And when her lifespan was over...
Hyperion squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his knuckles to his temples. He’d tried so hard not to think about that, but mortals came with expiration dates, and when Olivia’s was up... Well, he didn’t mind unraveling then, the universe be damned.
He loved her, and she belonged with him until her dying breath.
That was what he’d meant to tell her.
And then she said she loved him, and he swore his heart would jump out of his chest. Until he caught a glimpse into her thoughts. She wasn’t thinking of love and happiness. Her mind was filled with images of her body crushed to death and buried under what remained of the wrecked elevator. She’d kissed him, yes, but her lips tasted of fear and regret. She was afraid. Of him. His actions had scared away his true soulmate and sealed his fate. Olivia wouldn’t be with him willingly. She’d seen the havoc he could wreak, and it terrified her.
This time he’d saved her, but he was the one who brought the danger to her to begin with, and there was no guarantee it would never happen again. Which was why he had to make this choice for them both.
He called Circe’s visage to mind and focused his mental power on it. “Witch,” he bellowed in his mind. “I need you. Show yourself.”
He expected a light show, but instead, the second time he summoned her, her head broke the surface of the sea. He crossed his arms and planted his feet in the sand, at shoulder width.
With every wave that swept over the shore, she came closer, as if she glided along the surf. When the water came up to her waist, she scrunched her nose and averted her face. “There is something you should know,” she said.
“What? What other piece of existence-altering news have you for me?” Hyperion boomed. He turned on the glow too, as a reminder that she might be a witch, but he was a god before gods existed.
Still not looking at him, she said, “I’m kind of your granddaughter, and I really don’t wanna see you like that.”
“My granddaugh—?” Hyperion covered his cock with both hands. “How?”
She peeked through her fingers, and then faced him again. “I’m Helios’ daughter, which makes you my grandpa.” She made a little gesture with her fingers, and a loincloth was secured in place under his palm
s.
“I... don’t know what to do with this information,” he said. He hadn’t heard from his children since his imprisonment, and with the old gods gone, he certainly didn’t expect to find out he had more family. “Should we hug?”
Circe laughed. “Maybe later. First, tell me why you called me here.” She came out of the water and stood before him, studying him with her brow furrowed.
“I am out of time,” he said.
“Not yet. You still have a couple hours.”
“I don’t want to draw this out. There is no hope. Olivia is afraid of me. Love cannot blossom in fear.” Especially not within an hour or two.
Circe rolled her eyes. “Olivia is in love with you.”
“She said she loved me, but I read the fear in her mind.” Hyperion’s heart constricted at the memory.
A flash of light to his right made him turn. Eros had popped in. Beside him, Olivia swayed with her arms spread out. “You could have warned me,” she said, righting herself.
“What is she doing here?” Hyperion funneled his worry into wrath. He’d fled from her so as not to hurt her anymore, and Eros delivered her to him like a lamb to the slaughter.
“She is looking for you, you... Titan.” Olivia planted her palms on her hips and glared. “I was worried, and you were here. With her.”
Hyperion followed her gaze to Circe, who held her hands up. “Hey, I literally just arrived,” Circe said.
“I don’t care.” Olivia’s eyes threw daggers at him. “He was with me, and he left me to come be with you.”
Hyperion rubbed a palm down his face. His body buzzed with raw, barely contained energy. If they didn’t do this soon, he’d sink the whole island. “I can’t be with you,” he told Olivia. “I almost killed you today, because I couldn’t control myself. I won’t be the reason you perish.”
“You saved me today,” she said.
“Olivia, this isn’t up for debate. We cannot be together.” To Eros, he said, “Get her out of here.”
She stomped her foot, which might have had more of an effect if it were on hard soil, and not warm, golden sand. “No. You can’t do this to me. This... hot-and-cold thing is driving me nuts. You can’t say you love me one minute, and run away the next. This isn’t how things are done in a relationship.”
