Page 171 of Blood of Olympus

His response was to place one hand on either side of my face. I knew they were his because his warm, honey-laced voice flooded immediately into my mind as he tried to fix me.

Titan powers were never meant to be fought by those of Olympians. After the Primordials, they are the original gods — their powers far exceed ours. Perhaps not yours, since none have ever boasted two powers before you… I’m sorry, my queen. I am unable to do anything else.

I reefed my face out of his grip, twisting back into the solace of Caelus’ arms lest I let them see how truly devastated I was by those words. I felt Caelus nod, then heard the door shut and knew that we were alone.

For the first time in I couldn’t even remember how long, we were finally alone.

“Did he tell you?” I mumbled against Caelus’ shirt.

“He did.”

“And what if I can never see again? What if I remain this broken, useless thing⁠—”

“You are not broken, Nightshade.” He pulled back to cup my cheeks and I closed my eyes so that he didn’t have to look at the disgusting blank stare of a blind woman. “You never were. And you are not useless, either.” He pressed a kiss to each eyelid, oblivious to the fact that melancholy was rising steadily in my throat — harder and harder to swallow past that burning lump.

“That sounds like an innuendo.” I forced out a laugh, a feeble attempt at convincing myself that everything was perfectly fine.

It doesn’t have to be perfectly fine. Not right now, he answered through our soul-bond.

“Did I say that out loud?”

No, but you thought it loud enough.

“And with the weird half conversations and talk of innuendos happening, I’ll take my leave,” Aphrodite said, startling the ever-loving fuck out of me. I hadn’t realised she was still there. “I wonder what Arch is up to now that he’s awake,” she mused on her way out, the door snicking shut behind her.

“Arch is awake?” I asked.

“He came to last night.”

“I bet he did.” I grinned, coy amusement thrumming beneath my breastbone.

He made a sound halfway between a laugh and a groan. “Only you could crack jokes right now.”

“Hyperion stole my sight, not my magnificent sense of humour.”

He snorted, sounding more and more like me every day. My lip tipped up at the corner, my heart infinitely lighter. Aph and Arch finding each other was one good thing to come out of this war — if both could make it to the after.

We have to win. We have to give them, us, and everyone else a chance at life after war. At peace — no matter the cost.

You speak like you’ve already decided that you’re the cost. I won’t allow that to happen, Nightshade, he growled. His arms coiled around me, hoisting me into the air, my legs automatically hooking around his waist. When he sat on the edge of the bed, I was straddling him, and judging by the sizable bulge in his breeches, he wasn’t averse to that.

Caelus cleared his throat, every muscle I could feel was tense as he fought the wave of desire that came crashing over him. “You haven’t eaten in two days. You must be starving.”

“Oh, I’m starving — but not for food.” My grin morphed into a smirk as he groaned, that bulge twitching beneath me. “If you keep doing that, we’re going to have to skip right over the entree to devour the main course.”

“Nightshade.” He fell back against the mattress as I dragged a finger down the lines of his chest. “Nyssa, stop.”

I froze.

“We shouldn’t… we can’t… your eyes…”

“Oh.”

I get it. They must be hideous…

I slid off him, intending to scoot farther up the bed and wrestle my emotions back into that well-worn box within me; intending to don that ice cold mask of impassivity.

Instead, I was flipped onto my back — the weight of a god upon me, the weight of his gaze pressing into every inch of my face, so heavy I could feel it.