Statues Crumble, page 4
It took everything in me not to scream.
I also — terrifyingly — did not want to move.
My heart beat so violently. That traitorous, stupid heart that never learned. I clenched my jaw, trying not to feel the steady rise and fall of Evadne’s breath against my back, the unconscious squeeze of her arm tightening across my middle in her sleep.
I didn’t know what to do with this. With the softness of it. The audacity. I had never felt so… light.
Soothed.
This was ridiculous.
Didn’t Evadne realize I could kill her?
More importantly… Didn’t I remember what I was?
And yet…
Here she lay. Breathing evenly. Smiling faintly in her sleep. Her cheek nestled just against my shoulder blade like it was the safest place in the world.
I swallowed hard, forcing my breath around the knot building in my throat.
Very, very carefully, I tried to shift forward — to escape — but Evadne only made a contented sound and pulled me closer.
Held me tighter.
“Gods,” I whispered, afraid of the burning I felt behind my eyes. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
It was meant as a curse. It landed like a prayer.
I settled back down. Not because I wanted to. Not because my bones sang at the contact or because the curve of Evadne’s palm on my stomach felt achingly right.
But because I was so tired. Because I hadn’t been held in eons. Because every time I closed my eyes, I still felt Evadne’s smile echo in the space where I had used to believe my heart had turned to stone.
I gave myself until sunrise.
Then I’d leave.
Kick the girl back to the sands.
I had to.
Living this life was dangerous.
12
It was the sun on my cheeks that roused me from a near-dead sleep. It was so warm.
Everything about this island had swaddled me in warmth and lulled me to sleep, threatening to pull me right back under.
But…
It wasn’t the island that warmed my very bones.
Soft, solid warmth against my chest, under my palm, tucked so perfectly beneath my arm it felt almost intentional. My cheek rested against something smooth and bare and gently rising with breath. I allowed my fingers to curl slightly — familiar now with the silken scales they brushed against.
Ah. Yes.
The Gorgon.
Medusa.
The most dangerous woman alive.
And I had woken up… wrapped around her like a lover.
I couldn’t help the smile I pressed into her shoulder.
“I think,” I murmured sleepily, voice still thick with dreams, “I might be the luckiest criminal in the Aegean.”
Medusa went very still.
The snakes hissed softly, shifting above her head in lazy, half-asleep protest. One tightened slightly around my thigh — possessive or warning, I would never be quite sure. Either way, it made me grin.
“You’re awake,” came the flat, horrified voice.
“I am, yes. Congratulations on deductive reasoning.” I yawned delicately, nuzzling closer like it was our bed we were sharing, like I hadn’t been thrown onto a cursed island three days ago as punishment for choosing to survive. “You’re surprisingly comfortable, by the way. I expected you to sleep like a statue.”
“I do not-” Medusa tried to shift away, but I tugged her tighter against my chest and grinned.
“Mm-mm.” Nestling my nose into the hollow behind her ear, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. “Don’t ruin it. We’re having a moment.”
“This is not a moment,” Medusa snapped, but her voice cracked in the middle, which was absolutely delightful. “This is… an accident.”
“Sure,” I managed to keep my voice light, breezy, as I ran my thumb gently over the curve of Medusa’s hipbone, “but if I die today, at least I died somewhere soft.”
Medusa made a strangled noise. “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”
“Because you didn’t kill me,” I answered cheerily. “And also because your snakes have been spooning me all night, and honestly? That feels more like flirting than murder.”
The Gorgon made a sound like she was about to self-implode.
I just chuckled and, reluctantly, loosened my grip — just enough to let Medusa pull away, if she really wanted to.
She didn’t.
Not yet.
I allowed myself to bask in the warmth of the moment for just a moment longer, knowing all too well how quickly things can come crashing down.
“You’re blushing.” I practically blurted.
I felt Medusa jerk underneath my touch. “I am not-” Her body turned back into mine. “You can’t-”
So I reached up, fumbled a little, and finally touched her. Just like that. Fingers grazing her cheek with maddening lightness, like it was a game. It took much willpower to keep myself steady.
“Oh, you are,” I purred, sitting up, pressing my chest against her side. “Right here, I can feel you. Heat blooming like spring.”
“You are intolerable.”
“And yet… You didn’t move.”
“I didn’t expect-”
“That I’d be so brave?” I tilted my head, doing my best to feign innocence. “Or that you’d want me to be?” My voice dropped, a smirk tugging at my lips
She tried to pull back, pull away from me, but my hand was cradling her jaw. My touch stayed gentle.
Curious.
“It’s strange,” I murmured. “I’ve seen beauty. But not like you. Not really. The stuff of legends and heartache. The breathless kind. The too-much kind.” My thumb brushed the edge of Medusa’s bottom lip, and she froze. “I think you’re the kind poets write about and then lie down in the sea for.”
“I’ll turn you to stone.”
Taking a deep breath, I leaned in, nose almost brushing hers. “Do it, goddess” A whisper between them.
Medusa’s breath hitched.
“Turn me to stone,” I continued, “if you really want me to stop touching you.”
But Medusa didn’t move. Not even an inch.
“You’re not afraid,” she said again, weaker now. “Why aren’t you ever afraid?”
“Because your hands are shaking.” I smiled — shifting my hand to find hers, curled into the bed linens. “And I don’t think monsters tremble when someone touches their face.”
I heard Medusa swallow hard. Her snakes shifted uncertainly.
My fingers brushed over her temple, slid into the hairline where scales gave way to skin. Let my thumb trace the line of her jaw like it mattered. Like she wasn’t cursed.
“I hate you,” Medusa said, but it sounded like please.
All I could do was grin. “No, I don’t think you do.”
13
She was too close.
She kept getting too close.
And yet… I was the one that moved closer, I was the one who found my body shifting closer to hers, almost in her lap.
Desperate to close the last bit of distance between us. It felt like instinct. Like I didn’t want to remember what happened when people got too close.
But Evadne didn’t pull away, either. She stood her ground like she’d known I wouldn’t hurt her. Like she wanted this.
Our bodies were nearly flush — close enough for heat to jump like static, for air to vanish between us. Evadne tilted her head, exposing the slope of her neck, and gods help her, all I wanted to do was bite.
Kiss.
Claim.
But not to hurt.
Just to feel.
My hands found Evadne’s waist — steadying, anchoring, stupid — and she gasped quietly, so softly it could’ve been mistaken for wind.
“I should kill you,” I said, but my voice came out hoarse, thick. Leaning forward, getting even closer.
Evadne’s lips parted. Her hands found my forearms with a squeeze. Light. Curious. Grounding.
“Then do it,” she whispered, almost a whimper on her lips.
Before I could stop myself — and truly, I didn’t want to stop myself — my lips connected with her throat, pressed softly where her heartbeat pulsed rapidly.
I heard her breath stutter beneath me as I sucked gently against her fluttering pulse.
I wish I could say that my hands moved of their own accord, but I was in full control of my body as I shifted, cupping her breast in my hand.
Evadne arched her back, her breathy moan sending a lick of pleasure down my spine.
I should have stopped.
But her fingers were curling around my biceps like she wanted more. Like she’d pull me down and drown in me if I let her. If I asked.
My thumb brushed over the peak of her breast through the thin tunic, and she gasped again — sharp, bright, the kind of sound that made my knees feel weak.
The kind of sound I wanted to hear again.
Her head tilted back against the wall, her throat bare and shining with sweat. “Medusa,” she breathed. It sounded nothing like a warning.
It sounded like please.
I pressed in — just once — my hips finding the cradle of hers, heat meeting heat, and gods, I was spiraling.
Every serpent on my head stilled, tasting the storm in the air.
She turned her face just enough so that our mouths might meet if I leaned in. If I kissed her, I wasn’t going to stop. I’m not sure I would know how to.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I froze, lips hovering over hers, trembling like I hadn’t since the night I died. Then I pulled back.
Tore away like I'd touched the sun.
I didn’t look at her when I left. Couldn’t.
But her breath still echoed in my ears.
My name still echoed on her lips.
And the taste of her pulse on mine.
I slammed the temple doors shut behind me, the sound echoing like thunder through the empty halls.
My breath came too fast, shallow and sharp, like I’d just fought off a hundred warriors instead of nearly kissing one smug little exile with a crooked grin.
Gods.
Gods.
What was I doing?
My hands still burned with the memory of her — her waist beneath my palms, the soft weight of her breast in my fingers, the curve of her throat offered like a prayer. My lips still tingled with the taste of her skin.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and dragged down, willing the fire in my chest to burn itself out.
“Stupid,” I hissed aloud. “Stupid, foolish girl.”
I wasn’t even sure which one of us I meant.
My snakes twitched restlessly, hissing in protest, unsettled by my sudden movements, by the blood still roaring in my ears. I tore the outer layer of my robes off and flung it across the floor. It caught on the edge of an old offering table, knocking over a vase that shattered instantly.
Good. Let it break. Let it match me.
She had moaned. She had arched into me.
She had said my name like it meant something.
Like it could be more than a curse that cast fear into the hearts of men.
Like I could be more than the gladiator, forced to kill.
And I had liked it.
I turned and slammed my fist into the nearest stone pillar. Pain blossomed through my knuckles. The snakes flinched again.
“Stupid,” I muttered, softer this time.
I wasn’t meant to want. I wasn’t allowed.
No one looked at me and saw a woman anymore. They saw a curse. A sentence. A punishment wrapped in skin and serpents.
But Evadne… Evadne had touched me like she wanted me.
She couldn’t even look at me, and still somehow, she saw me. Saw more of me than I had allowed in years — decades.
I sank down against the cold marble, curling in on myself like a child. My heartbeat still hadn’t slowed.
“I should turn her to stone,” I said aloud, just to hear it. But my voice shook. And I couldn’t lie to myself that well anymore.
I knew that wasn’t an option anymore.
14
She didn’t come back to the temple for hours.
I wasn’t naïve to what that meant.
Something had cracked within her. Or bloomed. I hadn’t deciphered which. All I knew was I was the reason she’d fled, and gods, wasn’t that a little thrilling?
Movement was coming a little easier to me now. I had stumbled only twice while moving from Medusa’s bed to this window seat.
The limb that I had found was helpful, both with my balance and in trying to find obstacles in my path.
Who would have thought that an abandoned temple on a deserted island would have so many piles of stones on the ground?
As she emerged, I lay sprawled across a temple window, barefoot and sun-warmed, pretending not to listen for every whisper of her snakes.
I didn’t need to see her face to know she was trying very, very hard to be unaffected.
“Gorgon,” I called sweetly. “Sleep well?”
No answer.
I smirked. “You didn’t come back. I thought you might've turned me to stone mid-dream. Or perhaps you were tempted to sneak in for another taste.”
She inhaled sharply.
Just a little, almost indiscernible sound.
But it was there.
Oh, so I hadn’t dreamed it.
She kept walking. I followed — because of course I did. The sound of her shuffling through her temple was addicting. I think… I would try to follow her like a lost dog, if she let me. “You’ve gone quiet again. Is this the ‘murder’ quiet or the ‘deeply flustered and regretting that you had your mouth on me’ quiet?”
She whirled on me so fast, I almost crashed into her.
“You think yourself very clever.”
“Mmm.” I shrugged, letting my fingers brush against her forearm like it was the most natural thing in the world. I pretended to anchor myself to her. “No. I know I am.”
Her skin was warm.
Still rattled.
Still alive with it.
“You’re still thinking about it,” I added, voice soft, just for her. “Your snakes twitch every time I speak. Do they always give you away like that, or am I special?”
She said nothing. I could feel the way she just… stared.
And gods, I wished I could see her. Really see her. I imagined fire in her eyes. I imagined her lips parted, her whole body tense with how badly she wanted not to want me.
“If you keep toying with things you don’t understand,” she warned, low and breathy, “you’ll get bitten.”
I stepped in close, hands gentle, voice soft. “Maybe I want to be.”
Her breath hitched. Just once. Barely a sound. But I heard it.
And I grinned.
She didn’t move. Not away, at least.
So I did.
Just a step. Close enough that our breaths could get confused. My fingers brushed the edge of her hip, featherlight — just enough for her to feel it, not enough for her to flinch.
“You don’t want to stop me,” I murmured.
Her snakes hissed softly, but they didn’t strike. They shifted, restless and unsettled, like they didn’t know whether they should protect her or watch me. I could hear their every rasp, the slice of each scale through the air.
“You’re trying so hard not to touch me again,” I said, voice low, coaxing. “You’re breathing like you want to devour me. You’re so flushed, goddess. So what’s the problem?”
She didn’t answer — but her chest rose and fell like she’d been holding her breath too long. I stepped in again until my palm could press against her side. Her skin was burning hot beneath the thin wrap she wore.
My voice dropped. “You didn’t imagine it, you know. I liked your mouth on my throat.”
Still no movement. But her snakes tilted forward, curious. A few hovered near my shoulder, as if caught in the same pull that kept dragging us toward each other.
Tilting my head, I bared my throat to her once more. “Tell me, Medusa. Did you mark me? Did you leave your brand on my neck?”
She didn’t answer.
I leaned up.
Close enough for my lips to ghost beside her ear.
“And… I really liked your hand,” I whispered, just as my palm slid up her back — slow, bold, shameless — fingers splaying against the nape of her neck, close to the base of those cursed curls.
She shivered.
She shivered.
And gods, I wanted her to snap. To grab me, kiss me, throw me down or run. Anything but this maddening restraint. Anything but her heated pants, washing across my face.
“I could make you forget every man who ever laid a hand on you,” I breathed. “If you’d let me.”
And finally — finally — she spoke.
“You need to stop.”
But it came out cracked. Weak. Like she didn’t believe it even as she said it. My lips barely grazed the edge of her mouth. Not quite a kiss.
Not yet.
“Make me.”
It would take just a twitch, just a gentle turn of my head, and our lips would connect again, and gods did I crave it.
But something inside her was stirring, and I didn’t want to press; I didn’t want to take the choice from her.
I knew how badly I wanted this, but I would not stoop to Capaneus’ level. I don’t care how smitten I had become with the goddess in front of me, I would never.
She was still frozen before me, still as stone. I held my breath, not wanting to startle, to force, to scare.
Her snakes betrayed her, one of her pets curling around my wrist as it rested on the back of her neck.
She turned her head, wormed her way out of my grip. “No, Evadne.” It might have been the shadows — but I could have sworn I heard the sort of sniffle that preceded tears.
