Heph: Modern Descendants 3, page 18
I twisted back to the yard and saw a figure in white crossing the lawn. Squinting to take in the sight, I noticed dark hair blowing at her back and the fluttering of thin material around long legs.
Adara?
I pressed my hands on the bannister and stared off at the lithe body, gracefully floating over the grass, as if in a trance. She walked slowly, methodically, and I recalled our practices for the fire goddess ritual. Adara was an elegant dancer, but something about her movements concerned me. I glanced back at Heph, still sleeping, and although my insides warmed at the thought of curling up next to him again, I sensed a call to my sister.
Turning back, Adara crossed a greater distance and her hair blew wildly behind her. I ran from the room, exiting the back door of the inn, and raced over the sharp grass. My feet cut at the dry pricks under tender pads, but I moved forward, pulled toward Adara.
“Adara!” I yelled, reaching her moments before she crossed the edge of the property, and took the steps down to the beach. On a natural cliff, we were several feet up from the shoreline.
“Adara,” I called again, grabbing for her arm as she ignored me. Spinning her to face me, her tear streaked cheeks surprised me.
“Adara, honey, what’s wrong?” Softening my tone, I attempted to calm her, although I trembled with fear. Her eyes looked wild, skittish, and roving.
“I can’t take it anymore.” The tone of her voice was eerie and sad. “Everyone’s getting what they want, except me.”
Her eyes shifted to mine, but she looked right through me as she spoke.
“I’m being selfish. For once, I want something for me.”
“Adara,” I cooed. “You’re the least selfish person I know. You protected Eshne, and you saved Ashin. You’ve helped us all at Hestia’s.”
“I loved him, and he didn’t love me.”
My hands slipped from her arms. Heph.
“He loved you,” I choked. “But you didn’t love him.”
“I was too late. He came back too late. Too late.” Her voice faltered.
“Do you…do you want him back?” I didn’t know what I was offering, as if Heph were a thing instead of a being, but I’d give him up. If she needed him, I’d give him back.
“Everyone’s falling in love. My sister. You.” She paused, not answering me. “My sister’s getting married.” She said, the words in surprise, as if I didn’t know. “She’s having a baby.” Her voice lowered and she choked on the last word.
“A baby.” Her eyes drifted to her feet. “I’ll never have those things.”
“Yes, you will, Adara. The right man. The right place.”
“It can’t happen for me. I already tried, and I failed.”
Did she wish to try again? Did she want a second chance with Heph?
“Even Flame,” her head shot up, “Flame. Two boys. None for me.” Tears didn’t leave her eyes, but she choked on a sob. “Everyone is getting what they want except for me.”
“Do you want Heph? Do you want him back?”
“I saw you with him.”
I shook my head. She couldn’t have, but then I thought back to the open window and all the flames. A girl of fire would be attracted to such a display. I should have hung my head in embarrassment, but my eyes didn’t leave hers.
“I can’t apologize.” But the moment the words left my lips, I was sorry. Had I broken her heart? Did she feel I stole her man? She was my sister. I could never do that. I owed Adara everything.
“I’m sorry,” I added, lowering my lids to avoid the intensity of her gaze.
“You’re sorry?” Her voice rose slightly above the wind. “You’re sorry. For what? For sleeping with him? For flirting with him? For capturing his heart when it once wanted me?” Her voice irritated. “He wanted me first, Phyre. Me.” She slapped at her chest. I’d never seen her so intense, so angered. “I’m always second best, Phyre, but for once I was first.”
I didn’t know what she meant. Adara was the first born of her natural sisters.
“I wasn’t good enough, and he took another girl.”
My brow pinched. What was she talking about? Heph and me? Heph told me about his relationship. He would have given her everything but he wasn’t enough for her.
“I’ll never be good enough with these.” Adara raged on, raising her hands and staring at the palms before flipping them to the back. “All I’ll ever be able to do is hurt a man. Not love him.” She fisted her hands and raised them upward. “Why? Why couldn’t he love me?”
Tears streamed down my cheeks as the wind picked up around us. My heart broke at the desperation in my sister to want Heph’s love.
“I’m sorry, Adara. I’m sorry. I’ll give him up. I’ll give him back.”
Her eyes snapped to me, as if she forgot I stood there in her tirade.
“I don’t want to be second anymore, Phyre. But just know you’re second, too. You came after me. And I came after her. Do you think a man like that can commit? He made promises to more than one of us at a time. Are you certain he means what he says to you? He told me he loved me. Has he said that to you?”
Her words slapped me and my cheeks stung. No, actually, he hadn’t said those words to me, but I didn’t wish to tell that to Adara. I wanted to believe Heph and I had said those words through our intense connection, as he entered me and filled me, he showed me that he loved me. He trusted me.
Adara turned away from me at that moment, and all I could do was stare after her before I ran for my room, my heart clenching in my chest, the fire extinguished in me.
Tears filled my eyes once again before I fell asleep. It had been nearly three months, but I couldn’t stop crying myself to sleep each night. My thoughts were so out of whack, and I couldn’t recover from all that happened in California. I returned with Seraphine and Ember to tell Hestia of Adara’s attempt to kill herself, thinking she would race to her aid, but in her typical, calm fashion, she listened to the explanation of who saved Adara, and who remained with her. She trusted Idon’s son, Triton, and she believed Heph did what he thought best. She smiled slowly, patting my hand as she explained that Adara could take care of herself.
“The healing process is longer for some of us. Adara’s been responsible for her sisters for a long time. Now it’s time for her to take time for herself.” Unconcerned, Hestia dismissed our panic, allowing Adara and Ashin to remain behind. My heart dropped. Anger followed me for days. I lit flaming arrows and flung them into targets, piercing them with my upset, damning bull’s eyes and circles, centers and home. And then I got sick.
A rarity among us was to have the flu, but chills wracked my body. My breasts hung heavy and my back ached. I was so tired that all I could do was work and sleep. Our smaller household felt strangely empty without our additional sisters. Seraphine grew less sarcastic and Ember took over as second mother-hen in charge. She forced me to eat when I didn’t feel like it and sleep when I needed it more. My heart hurt the most, but she couldn’t do anything about that.
+ + +
As I crossed back through the woods one day, I heard the roar of a vehicle, ripping up the forest. Rocks scattered, clamoring down like a rain storm, pattering as gravel spun from the earth. I couldn’t race the intruder, but I slipped through the thick brush, following the sound. My instincts taught me to listen; a protective measure when one grew up on the run. A snap of branches. The crush of smaller twigs. Another spiral of dirt. There was only one way to Hestia’s Home: the arched branch over the two-tire drive led directly here, unless someone randomly four-wheeled it through the woods. Even then, the protection around the property prevented intruders. One would have to recognize the curve of the tree that marked the entrance to get this far by car. Temple’s stable was the opposite entrance, but as our northern guardian, no one passed his inspection.
I trekked around thick trees and under budding foliage. Spring arrived, although winter still lingered. My jacket hung open and dangled off my shoulder as I’d spent the afternoon practicing archery. My quiver hung loosely over the other shoulder, reminding me of Heph, as it was his gift. I held each arrow lovingly in my hand before I flung the shaft angrily at the target. Angry at myself for leaving. Angry at Heph for not following. Angry at Adara for wanting him.
In the shadow of the trees, the air chilled me, but my heart raced as I paced toward the disturbing noise of a revving engine tearing through trees. The vehicle drew closer, and I cut right, a huntress on the search for big game predators. A thin space ahead marked where the drive led, filling in slowly with new, spring foliage but still sparse from the last vehicle driving this trail. Thoughts of Heph skipped into my head and then jumped out, as I forced them to do daily.
I reached the two-tire path and kept myself covered by heavy growth around me until the last second. A curve in the bend ahead led directly for me. Stepping on the trail, I straddled the divots in the dirt. I stood with arrow raised, the fletching level with my eye, the string pulled taut and ready to fire. The roaring beast spun on its back tires, rounding the curl in the forest, crashing through the thinner brush and firing its heated breath at me. Screeching to a new gear, the brakes slammed, but I remained frozen, rooted to the earth. The beast slid forward with the abrupt halt, tearing up the ground beneath the tires. The grill of the car headed straight for my knees, and I screamed.
“Hephaestus!”
heph
My Camaro sputtered and twisted through the thin brush before stilling at the sight of her in the path. Slamming on the brakes, the car propelled forward in the soft dirt. Her mouth opened to scream, but her body remained stationary, her arrow aimed at the windshield. When the car stopped, her body pressed against the grill of the car. I pushed open the door with enough force that it bounced back at me.
“Phyre!” I yelled, rounding the vehicle. She shifted her aim, pointing the arrow at my chest, and we glared at one another, my heart racing at the thought that I might have hit her.
“What are you doing in the road?” I shouted.
“What are you doing here?” She bit back.
Firing questions at one another wasn’t going to lower the sudden tension between us. Thicker than the tree-covering canopy, the air around us filled like pressing fog. I walked toward her, hands raised in surrender, but she refused to lower her weapon. Her narrow-eyed-aim followed my motions. I rounded the front of the car, letting the arrow press to my chest.
“Well, this seems familiar,” I mumbled, chewing at my lip. Her eyes met mine, smoky blue shining bright under her unusual, beautiful hair.
“I had it aimed lower,” she snipped, not taking her eye from the fletching and flinging out sarcasm to correct my memory. Her hand shook, and the arrowhead poked at my T-shirt.
“Fire at me, Phyre.” My voice softened. “I’m already dead without you.”
“Don’t say that.” Her voice choked.
“What else can I say? I’m sorry again. I messed up. I keep doing it, even when I want to do better.”
Her head nodded, bobbing up and down. I leaned forward letting the arrow pierce through cotton and break skin. A trickle of blood seeped through my T-shirt, swelling in the fabric, replicating my desire. I bled for her.
“Take aim, Phyre. You already know you’ve pierced my heart. Take my soul.”
This time her head shook slowly, side to side.
“I love you.” The words shot like her weapon, striking her hard. She blinked, and the arrow at my chest instantly fell with the bow onto the hood of my car. Her hands landed flat on the metal hood as her head hung, and her back shuddered with a sob. She exhaled to calm her breathing.
“Phyre.” My voice softened as I reached out a hand for her. She briskly wiped her cheek and stood taller, facing me. A hand rose to stop my stretch. Her jacket hung off both her shoulders, trapped by her elbows at her side. My eyes roamed her body, and my head tilted. Did her breasts look larger or was it the hunger in me to fill my starving mouth with her? Her shirt fit snug over supple breasts and a typically flat stomach, held a semi-familiar bulge. Where had I seen that shape before? She was practically glowing, something I hadn’t remembered. “You’re so beautiful.”
“I…I can’t do this again, Heph. My heart.” Her hand fisted and beat on her chest. “My heart beats for you, but I can’t go back and forth like we have. Adara…Adara needs you.”
“Adara?” I stepped closer, but still not close enough. Her hand on my chest stopped me, keeping the distance between us.
“My heart beats for you, Phyre, only you. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Another sob escaped her lips, and this time I let nothing stop me. I gripped her arms and pressed her to me, tucking her head against my chest.
“Say it again,” I begged, my throat catching on the tender command.
“I love you, Heph. I love you.” Her hands fisted in my T-shirt and I pushed her back to take her lips. My hands jumped to her waist, slipping inside her open jacket, and roaming her body. Flat palms skimmed the curve of her sides and lowered to wrap around her hips. Pulling back abruptly, I stared at her.
“What happened? Why did you leave?”
“Adara. She loves you.”
I blinked at her liquid-filled eyes.
“Adara doesn’t love me!” I exclaimed, surprised at her words.
“She told me. That night. She told me she loved you too late. She needed you, and I…I gave you up so she could have you.”
“Phyre.” My heart slipped from my chest and pooled at my feet, like the drip of wax under a flame. “Phyre, Adara’s attempted suicide had nothing to do with you. Or me.” I sighed. How long I’d worked to get myself through those thoughts, but Adara’s reassurance finally convinced me. It wasn’t me. It was her. Her scars ran deep, deeper than I thought Hestia might know, and Adara had things to work out for herself.
“Phyre, it was never about you or even me.”
Tears fell harder, and she shook her head.
“Then why didn’t you follow me?” As soon as she spoke, she closed her eyes, willing away the question.
“You didn’t want me to. You were gone when I woke. You left me.”
I stared at her. How much we had misunderstood.
“I was on the balcony. I saw Adara in the yard. But I saw the way you looked at her, and she looked at you. She needed you.”
“I need you.” Hands on her shoulders shook her gently.
“I needed you, too.” Her hands came to rest on her lower belly, rubbing at her waist. What had happened to her? Was I too late?
“Needed? Past tense?”
Her eyes shifted downward, and her hands splayed over the top of her jeans. My breath hitched.
“What happened?” My voice shook as I hated that question.
“I’m pregnant.” Her words startled me, and I released her shoulders, stumbling back. My stomach felt sucker-punched. She’d been with another man?
“I knew you wouldn’t be happy.” Tears fell harder, and a shaky hand covered her eyes.
“Who is he?” I said through gritted teeth, the old feelings of betrayal filling me like a boiling pit.
Her eyes snapped to mine, liquid and leaking, and then she laughed. Hysteria hitting her with her guilt, I decided, as she laughed harder, and tears dripped from her eyes like a slow falling rain. She bent at the waist and laughed even harder, and then the tears returned to real tears, and body heaving sobs.
“It’s yours.” Her eyes avoided mine, as she bit her lip and a tear wrapped around the corner of her mouth. “I’ve only ever been yours.” Suddenly, my lips were on hers, drinking in the salty splash, licking up the streams bordering on her curving mouth. I drank in her sorrow and replaced it with my astonishment and joy.
She was having my baby.
She was having my baby.
“Say it again,” I muttered against her lips, slipping my tongue into her mouth before she could respond. Her tongue lapped over mine before dragging back.
“I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”
My arms wrapped around her, lifting her against me, and then immediately setting her down.
“Did I hurt you? Did I hurt her?” My hands covered her lower belly, and her hands covered mine with a tear-choked giggle.
“No, Heph. No, we aren’t hurt any longer.”
phyre
Heph wouldn’t let me walk the remainder of the way to Hestia’s Home. He carried me, and the irony wasn’t lost on me that we walked this same trail the first day I met him. This was the path where I fell in love with him, before I could acknowledge the feeling. In his arms, again, I loved him more. So much misunderstanding, so much wasted time, but I would not waste another second.
We entered Hestia’s breakfast room, the heat of the fire almost stifling in the spring afternoon. Heph’s arms came around me from behind and his thick hands covered my lower belly.
“She’s having my baby,” he announced, his voice full of pride as he spoke to Hestia over my shoulder. Hestia stood and smiled slowly at her favored, adopted son.
“Yes, she is, young man, and you are late.” She admonished without ire and smiled wider as Heph’s chin came to rest on my head.
“I’m asking permission to marry her.” The words rumbled over my head and poured over me. I stiffened in his arms and Hestia stared at him before her eyes drifted to mine.
“That’s not really a proposal, Hephaestus.” Her tone a bit stronger than the teasing from a moment before, Heph lifted his chin. A conversation through eyes ensued over me, and I watched only Hestia, as she nodded once, and then Heph tugged me tighter to his chest.
“She’s coming out to the barn with me or I’m staying in her room.” His commanding gruffness startled me. His demands of Hestia surprised me, considering she ruled this roost, not him.
“I leave that decision to Phyre,” Hestia answered, nodding at me, meeting my eyes once again. Love filled those eyes, but so did hesitancy. She’d offer nothing that made me uncomfortable. The barn frightened me with its memories, but it would also give us privacy. Heph and I needed time.
