Page 42 of Blood of Olympus

Curious, I approached the gigantic white wolf, eyeing the swirls and jagged bolts of lightning etched into the straps.

“May I?” I asked him.

Lykos’ aurelian irises skewered mine. His head dipped in acquiescence then lay down. The peak of his back still reached eye-level, and I was again thrown by the sheer size of him, but I was also able to inspect the handiwork much better from this height.

“Hephaestus?” I tossed the question behind me, knowing the wolf wouldn’t respond if I’d asked him directly. Bonded animals only speak directly to their companions, except in extreme circumstances.

Caelus stepped up beside me, shaking his head. “Arch, actually.”

“Oh.”

The ease with which he draped an arm around me still startled me sometimes.

Years had flown by without another’s touch because I’d been too terrified I’d accidentally murder them. And now that I could share casual intimacies like this with those I’d come to love, I was at risk of losing them all.

Kronos had started with Charon and he wouldn’t stop until I surrendered — or succumbed.

Caelus mistook my piercing dread for worry. “We will find a way to save him.”

I frowned. “Who?”

He eyed me quizzically. “Archimedes.”

“Oh,” I replied dumbly. Now I was worried about that too.

“We have to, Caelus... I can’t lose another friend.”

“You won’t,” he vowed.

That’s not a promise you can keep, Golden.

He didn’t reply for a long time. Not until I conjured that shadowy doorway to take us back to the palace. He wrapped his fingers around my own, startlingly warm against my icy skin.

I can try.

Once we were home and I had a moment alone while Caelus was showering, I allowed myself to take off that icy mask of indifference and feel.

Why is the voice of my dead best friend haunting me? Why is this grief so much worse than any other?

I was almost certain my mind was fractured beyond repair.

Velira’s large snout nuzzled my spine, her exhale hot and sulphurous against my back.

She didn’t fit inside the Palace of Hades anymore, so her head and outstretched neck did their best to comfort me from where she lay outside on the balcony, while I lay curled in on myself atop the bed. I hadn’t even bothered to pull back the covers, or get changed into something more comfortable.

My anxiety lay too thick, too cloying, upon my skin — like a layer of oil that could not be washed away no matter how much soap I used.

And that was exactly how Caelus found me twenty minutes later.

“Nightshade,” my storm-wielder lamented as he sank to his knees beside the oversized bed.

His worry poked through the haze clouding my mind, latched onto my heart, and caused the tears I’d been ignoring to finally overflow. I couldn’t stop them even if I’d wanted to.

Maybe it was better to feel it after all.

Caelus said nothing, just settled into the empty space beside me. His strong, warm arms encircled my tired body and pulled me onto his lap, humming a soft tune until eventually, I had no more tears left to cry.

I was an empty, exhausted shell, and I fell asleep to the soft sounds of his lullaby.