Heph: Modern Descendants 3, page 4
When I fumbled the glass in my hand, sighing at the sound of his nickname in reference to me, I was almost busted.
“Whoever is in there should be in bed,” Hestia called out, like I was a three-year-old sneaking down to see Santa on Christmas morning. After setting my Christmas tree on fire at the tender age of four, and burning my house to the ground, I no longer believed in Santa Claus. I preferred the lump of coal. It could burn. Sight unseen, I prepared to leave as Hestia chided me when I heard Hestia speak of Adara.
“Did you make her promises, Hephaestus?” The question rang with disapproval, but asked tenderly with concern for both parties.
“I don’t think so.”
“Heph?” she warned and I stepped closer to the doorway.
“Maybe I said things in the heat of passion.”
“I didn’t think I had to remind you that my girls are off limits to you.”
I imagined Heph hanging his head, much like he did at dinner as he tried to dig out of the hole he made spinning a lie about his car tire. He hadn’t turned me in for spearing his wheel, and I wondered why not.
“You don’t.”
“I love you, Hephaestus.”
“I know.” His typically rugged voice, softened, sounding sad and contrite. I couldn’t fault Heph for an attraction to Adara, but while she was beautiful in an exotic sense, Heph was equally as remarkable in a roughed-up, steamy god replica. Adara’s admiration of him made sense to me in a weird sort-of way. Blood boiled inside me and my breathing heightened.
“I didn’t mean for anything to happen,” he clarified as way of apology.
“I’m sure you didn’t, but I see her looking at you. And I see you looking at Phyre.”
I stood taller, my short breaths coming faster. Jealousy built and died, like the spark from flint on a rock.
He looked at me?
“Be careful there,” Hestia warned. “She’s fragile.”
The hair on the nape of my neck rose. Was she warning him against me or Adara?
“She’s a special girl, still discovering herself. She’s still healing. I don’t need you lighting up another heart here.” Her chuckle softened the warning. “I won’t let you play my girls.”
I had to smile at the protectiveness Hestia took with us, but her caution bothered me. I wouldn’t hurt him. Not intentionally, but that’s what had happened in the past. I hadn’t meant to burn down the tree or the house. I hadn’t meant half the other things I couldn’t control, but there was one night I would never beg forgiveness of.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” With those words, I realized I’d misunderstood. While Heph consoled himself in the shower, possibly to me, possibly to someone else, the comment was clear. He wasn’t really interested in me. Maybe he called every one my little spark. The boiling sensation heated within me, and I needed my own brand of oxygen before I did something I’d regret. Returning the glass to the sink, I hopped up the stairs as best I could without making noise. The hallway was lined with doors, one for each girl; Hestia’s room was on the main floor.
Entering my room, I crossed to the window seat, opened the cushioned seat below and reached inside for my secret stash. Looking up and out the window, I noticed Heph enter the barn studio. Moments later, Adara followed, searching behind her for any witnesses. My chest burned inside like the flame I was about to strike. Lifting the window sash only enough to draw out the smoke, the match struck the flint strip, igniting into a tiny fire, and I breathed deep the sulfurous scent. It wasn’t enough to squelch the envy, hot and heavy within my heart as I thought of Adara experiencing Heph in a way I wanted. I lit the candle and watched it burn, setting my hand over the flame in hopes to calm me, but the heat only ignited the turmoil inside my ribs. My heart melted with sadness that Adara would get back her man and I’d remain alone. Continuing the torture, my fingers drifted over the dancing flame, as the minutes ticked and I watched for Adara’s return.
heph
I had just returned to my room when the doorknob jiggled. I recognized the signal. Opening the door, Adara stood at the threshold in a white night shift. My eyes drifted to the hint of dark circles behind the semi-sheer material. I looked away, knowing taking Adara would be a mistake. Her creamy, caramel skin tempted me once upon a time, but not any longer. My wounded pride was too raw from Lovie. My heart confused over Phyre.
“Come in,” I offered, leery of her presence.
We stared at one another. I waved a hand for her to take a seat on the couch. Nodding in gratitude, she sat, her body awkward, her hands clenching the cushions on either side of her thighs. Memories drifted through my thoughts, but I refused to go back there. Looking at her no longer stirred desire, only regret. I had disappointed her with innocent promises. But she had disillusioned me, as well. Beautiful women do not love ugly men, Zeke said, and from Adara, I understood that truth. Exotic and erotic, sexual attraction fooled me into a spell disguised as love. She wanted to leave Hestia's Home. I was her ticket out.
“It's been a long time,” she began, nervously smoothing down the length of her nightdress.
“It has.” A year had passed since we last shared promises.
“I suppose things change.” She smiled weakly, her dark eyes lowering, as if she knew my answer before I spoke.
“I'm sorry.” Her face spun away as if I slapped her, and I stepped closer. Her hand rose to halt me.
“What happened?” That question would always haunt me. Maybe it was separation. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was the reality that I could not give her what she needed, or she couldn’t fulfill my needs.
“I'm sorry I didn't return sooner.”
She spun back to me. “Didn't you love me?”
“Did you love me?”
We both knew her answer. In the final night of passion, the words crafted in my mouth, and I presented them in silver to her. She had no response. When I told her I would marry her, her smile spread, but no reciprocal words matched mine. In that second, I knew. She wanted me to take her from here, but not because she wanted to be with me forever.
“There's so much I haven't done,” she offered, changing the subject. I took the risk and sat next to her on the couch. My long legs stretched forward, and my hand rested behind her back.
“If you aren't happy here, leave. Tell Hestia and go.”
“You know it's not that simple.” I nodded as if I understood, but I did not.
“Why not?”
“Because of Ashin. And Eshne.” Adara had taken on the role of mother to her two younger sisters. It left her without a childhood and freedom. Sensing Ashin would be safe with Hestia, Adara was ready to have a life. Her younger sister had already made the choice. Eshne left years ago.
“I think Hestia will let you do whatever you wish.” I tried to reassure her with the touch of my hand on her lower back.
“You know I’m afraid to go alone. Afraid of what I could do. Afraid of getting caught.”
“So you thought I would protect you.”
A shaky hand rose and swiped through her stick-straight hair. It slipped slowly from her fingers like the flow of a flame.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. She held her forehead in her hands. “I thought you loved me.”
“I did. But you didn’t love me, and I don’t think that’s fair.”
Her head nodded and a tear slipped down her check. My thick hand covered her slim back and I rubbed up and down her spine.
“I tried. I did. I could see how much you loved me, but all I could think of was leaving. You made me feel things I didn’t know I could feel. The physical safety. It gave me hope that I could get there.” She turned to me, liquid slowly seeping from her eyes. “I’m so sorry I’m too late.”
I tugged her to my broad chest. I understood her sense of entrapment. She loved Hestia, as I loved Zeke, my father, in my own way. I wanted to please him, as Adara wanted approval from Hestia. Adara did not want to disappoint. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful. Leaving with me, as my wife, would be a better excuse than wanting to go alone. Without her love, I had no assurance she would stay with me, though. Maybe she thought it would grow over time, as I had thought with Lovie.
The physical connection of Adara in my arms reminded me of pleasant memories, but those thoughts were part of a false love story.
“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you.” I’d said the same words to Lovie.
Her tears came faster, her chest heaving harder. My arm wrapped awkwardly around her, and I patted her shoulder. I cared about Adara and wanted to help her as a friend, but I wasn’t good with tears. Comfort was not my thing, but I drew from her my own as I held her. Lovie’s rejection stung, though not as hard as Adara’s had. I still had feelings, even if I didn’t have a decent face. Adara’s apology brought about my own sorrow. Her face buried into my flannel and her arm slipped over my waist. She held me as hard as I held her, each hoping for relief from our aching hearts.
It was early morning when I walked Adara back to the house. In a second-floor window, I saw the flicker of a candle. Hestia preferred all fire remained in the hearths. The light flitted, and on a puff, blew out. An unseen face lingered in the filmy smoke. My heart raced at the thought that maybe Phyre watched me, and then I thought of Adara at the door. Phyre witnessed it all, and my heart faltered like a horse suddenly lame during a race. She would not understand the history of Adara, or the fact that Phyre sparked thoughts of the future.
phyre
Only a few short hours later, I found myself sitting in the breakfast room with little sleep and lots of coffee. Heph entered and quietly sat across from me. His eyes never met mine, and when Adara entered, I stood to leave. I didn’t need to witness the love-birds silently mating, after spending all night envisioning Adara wrapped around him. My mind desperately wanted to erase the possibility after being haunted by visions of him in the shower. The nickname my little spark played in my head, on repeat, ridiculously wanting the words called to me.
“If you don't mind, I need to borrow Phyre for a bit this morning. As she, found me,” Heph coughed addressing Hestia, “after my flat tire, perhaps she could guide me back on the trail and help me repair it.” His words stalled me at the kitchen door. If Heph had carried his case to his room, in the dark no less, surely, he could find his own car in the morning light.
“I have work to do.” I took another step for the kitchen when Hestia answered.
“I think that's a great idea. It will give Heph a chance to learn more about you.” Forcing a smile on my face, I turned and nodded once to Hestia, not missing Adara’s eyes shooting up to look at our mother-figure. She glanced at Heph for direction and then at me. A frozen smile returned to his face, agreeing with Hestia.
“If you think that best,” I offered, trying to assure Adara with my eyes that I had no decision in this plan. She looked away, and then walked from the breakfast room in the opposite direction. I hated to admit it, but my heart pattered at the thought of being alone with Heph, like a deer trotting ignorantly through the woods.
I placed a hat on my head, zipped up my down-filled vest, and then followed after Heph in silence. We trudged through the forest, out of sight of the large house. The foliage canopy shaded us from the sun. The walk, ordinarily peaceful, filled with tension thicker than the trees. I didn’t know how to make small talk, chattering like Ember or flirting like Seraphine. Not that I would flirt with Heph. He had business still with Adara. I didn’t wish to intervene, though that stabbing thing returned to my heart as I watched the muscular backside of Heph walk before me. He knew how to wear a pair of jeans. The tight-fitting Henley and a short cap gave him the look of a lost lumberjack.
We reached his car, and Heph went straight for the trunk. The sports car looked masculine and mean, although not something I would expect him to drive. He was a big man, and a truck seemed more fitting, especially considering I knew he worked with heavy metal to make anything from sculptures to weaponry. One of his sculptures sat in the yard: the perpetual image of a flame in rusty iron served as a reminder of all our gifts and the blessing of fire. Oh, the irony, I thought, as I still wasn’t certain I could control mine.
He still hadn’t spoken as he set a jack under the front axle and pumped several times to raise the vehicle. He unscrewed the lug nuts and removed the tire. He rolled the ruined tire to the trunk and removed the smaller sized spare.
“I can pay for a new one,” I finally offered, uncertain how I would explain to Hestia the need for money or the reason why I shot the tire in the first place. We didn’t have money on our own. We worked collectively and each earned a share. Hestia banked the money for us.
“Don’t worry about it.” He lifted the shot tire without effort, and the vehicle shook a bit with the force of it in his trunk. He wheeled the new one forward and began replacing it.
“I’m not certain why I’m with you. You haven’t asked me to do anything.” My hands slid into my pockets and wrapped around something soft and comforting within.
“I thought about making you replace it, manually, but decided that wouldn’t be very chivalrous of me.”
“Chivalrous,” I laughed. “That’s a big word.”
He huffed as he replaced the final lug nut and lowered the jack.
“For a simple man, right?” His exhale sharp with the finishing touch of his labor.
“What?”
“You think I’m stupid, don’t you?”
“No,” I snorted. “That’s not what I meant.” He stood so quickly that he startled me, and I fell back, stumbling over a twig at my feet. My hands slipped from my pockets, preparing for the impact of falling on my backside, but his hands gripped my pockets and yanked me forward. My breasts slammed into his chest, my face knocking into his pecs and giving me a whiff of his manly scent mixed with the balsam spruce around us. The fragrance dazed me, and my head rose slowly to face him.
“You’re a genius actually,” I muttered caught in the balsam-spruce-Heph haze. “I know you made that sculpture by the fire pit and I’ve seen other pieces you’ve designed around the place. Hestia also mentioned you make weaponry, like bows and arrows.” I took a deep breath, which was a mistake, as I inhaled more of him. “I’d like to see more of your work one day.
“You would?” His surprise, surprised me. His dark eyes smoldered as he stared at me. He inspected my face as if he thought I was teasing him, when I wasn’t. He was a master craftsman and I wanted to learn more about his trade. “Then why pick on me for a word like chivalrous?”
He truly wanted an answer and I breathed deep. “Because you seem like you know how to work the ladies.” My head hung at the admission. I knew he’d been with Adara.
“Phyre, you’re mistaken.” His chocolate eyes widened, and then they softened. He looked at me like I was a precious metal. He bit his lower lip, tugging up a corner. Being this close to his face, I noticed another scar hidden under the heavy scruff at his chin, the gouge matching the one on his forehead, raised and bumpy.
Without realizing it, my hands rested on his biceps, larger than some of the tree trunks behind me. My heart raced under my clothing, and he took a deep breath, dragging my breasts up his chest. Without thought, my hands slipped upward, taking their time to feel the size of his shoulders. His hand slipped out of my pockets. One cupped my face, and the other held something in my peripheral vision. I turned sharply to see red material before me.
“Were you in my room?” His gruff voice rippled through me, as he teased me. I wanted to feel the strength of that tone over my body, vibrating against me, but my eyes closed in embarrassment as he held his boxers before me. The lie formed quickly.
“Those are mine.”
He bit at his lip again, as they curled with pleasure.
“How strange. I have the exact same pair.” He paused as his thumb on my cheek rubbed gently. “But mine have somehow gone missing.” A subtle hum vibrated after the statement.
Quickly, I forced myself not to react. My eyes didn’t leave his, all teasing chocolate with a hint of mischief.
“Maybe it was the campers who shot your tire?”
“I don’t think so.” His smile grew.
“Or hunters.”
“Wrong answer, my huntress.”
My heart leapt as he labelled me his.
“Well, you can keep them if you wish.” I shrugged one shoulder, as if it meant nothing to me that he could take my pair, which were really his.
“Maybe you could just hold onto them for me. For safe keeping.” He returned the sinful, red boxer briefs to my pocket. One hand still on my cheek, the other curled into my vest pocket, he tugged me against him, forcing an already existing connection. Our eyes stared.
“Are your lips naturally that color?” I bit my lip in response and the tip of his tongue peeked out for a stroll over the lower bow of his.
“Some men think it’s beautiful,” I snarked without steam. My breath rushed out warm and covered his mouth.
“You are beautiful.” My insides melted like the slow drip of wax on the outside of a candle.
“And that hair,” he added. Thick fingers curled around cherry-rosebud tendrils. “Is that natural as well?” He had to know the answer. Each of us had unusual color to our locks. I nodded without releasing his eyes.
“Do I know you?” His gruff voice lowered.
“I don’t think so,” I answered, but I wish, I screamed inside my head. Holding me against him, felt strange and right wrapped together. Safe and home filled with unnerving anxiety, like waiting to open a present when you just know something good is inside the box.
“You seem so familiar to me.” His eyes narrowed and his thumb brushed my skin. He shifted up to my hair and traced over the long locks in their unusual color. “I would never forget hair this color.” His eyes lowered slowly to my mouth. “Or lips that matched.” His mouth leaned forward, and I swallowed with thirst to drink from his lips, but Adara flashed in my head, and I gently pressed on his shoulders.
