Chapter 10

I supported my head on my right palm, lying on my side with my back to Walt. I had the sheet over me up to my hips, but I was bare from there up. He faced my back and traced lazy circles on my back and sometimes lower. His circles had no decisive pattern, they were just there as an excuse to touch my skin. Poor circles, I thought.

I could see the balcony from Walter's bed. The far end of this 'Mount Olympus' bumped out so you could see it from this end. I watched, mesmerized, as the gold fog fell from the doors and windows of the castle-like dwelling, like waterfalls, never ending. It was fell and fell and fell straight down into what looked like clouds. Clouds that reflected the sunlight in such a way that was almost dazzling. As I lounged in the afterglow of Walter's love making, I wondered what of all of this meant. What did I do with this knew-found information? Was I supposed to be with Walter now that I knew about this secret life? Was I supposed to be a part of it? I thought of Charlie and Gran. My family. If I was going to be with Walter now, I wanted to tell them, especially Charlie. They would deserve to know what I was doing, who my boyfriend really was.

Boyfriend?

Maybe.

"Walter?" I asked, content curiosity on my tongue.

"Yes, love?" Still drawing circles. My lips turned up faintly. I missed that little endearment.

"Do you ever…" I was going to ask if they ever told humans about their existence but I realized that was a stupid question considering the Greeks worshipped them thousands of years ago. "I mean... what do I tell Gran and Charlie? Do I keep this all a secret?" But I didn't want to, considering Walter kept it from me and I hated it. I wouldn't want to hurt my family that way. His circles slowed and got wider but didn't stop.

"That is your decision. We have no strict rules on keeping our lives a secret. We all know who to trust to not tell other humans. But you must decide if your family can burden the weight of such knowledge."

"Should I tell them?" I whispered, turning so I was on my back, ceasing his circles. "I know they can keep that a secret for me but…will I need to tell them? I mean, will you and I…be together long enough for it to even matter if I told them?" I said the word quiet and hesitantly. Bringing up topics like this was difficult but someone had to; he sure as hell wouldn't.

He lay on his back as well, so were both looking up at the gold ceiling thoughtfully. He sighed. "I wouldn't know, Az. All I can tell you is that if I had my way, you'd never leave my side."

My chest squeezed my lungs in one quick, panicky motion. Never leave his side? Sure, that sounds great in theory but I'm not the kind of woman that can be kept as arm candy. I'm claustrophobic. I hate being bound to one place. I'm the one that freaked out when the kids at the foster home tried to push me into the tiny closet at the end of the hall because they thought it was a good hiding spot. I didn't last two seconds. How could I be bond to one man for eternity? I mean, I couldn't even fathom marriage. It was pointless to me. It was just evidence that you were together for other people to see. Marriage seemed like something I would only do if I was on my death bed, just to see what it's like.

"No, no, no," I gasped, sitting up quickly. "Walter I can't do that."

"What?" He asked, confused. He sat up with me, putting a hand on my shoulder, trying to comfort me. It wasn't working.

"Marry you. You can't expect me to—to do that. I've never wanted to get married. I just want to be with you but not that way, Walt. I—" I hadn't realized I had gotten off the bed to pace the room until Walter got up and put his hands on my arms, making me stop.

"—Woah! Hey, I never said anything about putting a ring on your finger, Azalea." Even his soothing accent couldn't calm her at the moment. He looked at me in confusion but it was confusion that said, What the hell is wrong with you? not a polite, What's goin' on? I frowned and drew my arms to my body, like I could protect my body from the harmful rays of his judgment. He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to relax. I didn't. "You're the one that asked how long I expected us to be together. I'm just telling you I wanted you beside me for as long as possible…unless that not what you want…?" He said it like a question. I didn't know what to say. His expression was so confused and taken aback. And when I didn't say anything, it became sad. "You don't… you don't want to be with me?"

My fell face and I walked toward his receding figure wanting to comfort him more than anything. "NO, Walter that's not what I meant! I'm saying it's hard for me to say I want to be with you forever when I've never been with anyone else for more than a few months. The idea of the rest of my life terrifies me, let alone the idea of telling you that I'll devote my self to you for the rest of my life."

But his expression of betrayal didn't change. Seeing his usually calm face like this broke my heart, once again. I began to cry quiet tears as he walked away into the bathroom, but then they became horrible gut-wrenching sobs that filled the quiet bedroom like a bullet. Oh my god, what's wrong with me? I lay back down on the bed and continued to pour my heart out onto the poor sheets. I was completely under the blankets, still naked and crying when I heard Walter come out of the bathroom. My uncontrollable sobs continued to ring out in the air and when he heard them, he walked over to where I was on the bed. When he pulled the covers up to see me, I hid my face in the sheets, not wanting to look at him. He sighed and crawled into the bed, pulling me to him. He must have gone in the bathroom to get dressed because I could feel his jeans and t-shirt on my skin. He wrapped his big arms around me, my back to his front. I didn't turn around but said so quietly, and shakily, "I'm s—orry." My sobs attacked me midsentence and assaulted my words so they were barely understandable.

Walter leaned closer, over my left shoulder and looked down at me under the covers, "What that?"

My chin trembled and, talking a shuttering breath, I said again, just as quietly because I couldn't seem to make my voice go louder, "I'm sorry." I finally turned on my back and looked up at him. He gazed down at me in a way that suggested he felt as sorry as I. Tears rolled sideways down to my temple and back into my blonde hair, which was mused from our resent activity.

"Why would you be, love?" he whispered sweetly, running his fingers over my swollen lips.

"Because I hurt your feelings," I said childishly. "I never been in love, Walter, you have to give me some leeway. I have no idea what I'm doing; I mean, look at me! I'm a mess." God, I needed sleep or something.

Walter shook his head and tucked my messy hair behind my ear gently, whispering, "You're perfect, don't day things like that."

I sighed but didn't respond to his sweet words. They weren't true anyway. I was nothing. Walter could have any girl in the world and he's choosing me. Why? Because I look like his dead freakin' wife.

I turned back on my side, not looking at him and the next thing I knew I was dreaming.

I woke up feeling like I couldn't breathe. I was sweating and my hair clung to my body in tendrils. Hot air filled my lungs and made me feel like I was faint or throw up. In my haze of waking up, I gasped and sobbed for air. It was until I realized where I was that I recognized the white sheet around me. It stuck to my skin uncomfortably like a second skin. It was over my head, like when I felt asleep. I scrambled away from the blanket, pushing it away and shoving it to the foot of the bed with my feet. I sat in my birthday suit at the head of Walter's bed, trying to regain my sanity. I realized with a shock that no one was in the room with me. Not even Ky. I flashed back to yesterday morning when I woke up to those two girls and Ky. Now I was alone. I got off the bed and happily took a quick shower in his insanely huge bathroom. I found another dress on Walter's bed—a shorter one that reached mid-thigh, had four-finger width straps, and was cream-colored with tiny flowers scattered across it—and put it on. I didn't bring my flats this time because I recalled that some parts of the palace had big, pristine Victorian rugs that probably wouldn't appreciate the dirt.

I exited the royal bedroom into the wide hallway/bridge, walking aimlessly like yesterday morning. Except this time I didn't have Ky knocking down strangers doors. I walked along the right wall, looking out at the golden fog, running my fingers along the graceful gilded trim of the arched windows, which I noticed didn't have actual window glass; they were just spaces cut out of the wall. It must stay warm here all year round. I wouldn't be surprised.

I also noticed the limber vines that swirled across almost every wall and ceiling in this "Olympus". I let my eyes lazily trace the many patterns they created. I walked down the long hall to Walter's room and, in turn, down the wide, winding stairwell to the throne room. I stopped when I saw a large congregation of people gathered around the thrones. Some were seated and some weren't. There was a steady hum of conversation throughout the room that thankfully didn't break when I saw them. I had reached half-way down the stairs, turning to leave, not in the mood to bother any important proceedings, when I heard my name.

"Azalea, my love, come here," I heard Walter say from behind me. His voice was quiet but somehow managed to radiate throughout the entire room, hushing the hum of voices. I turned. He stood gloriously in the center of the thrones, his hands behind his back. I didn't hesitate to walk toward him. I smiled coyly to myself as I remembered how his hands had touched me not twenty-four hours ago. My long legs traveled quickly and silently as I glided barefoot to where he stood. It took me a moment to realize the many eyes watching me but my mind thankfully blocked it all out as I made my journey across the marble floor. He looked happy, despite our emotional discussions last night. I had the sudden urge to go back upstairs with him and leave all these people to themselves while we repeated last night's activities—except without all the talking.

When I came closer to him, he held out his right hand for me. I took it gratefully, loving the way his rough hand felt in my soft one. His blue eyes glittered with a love and appreciation that words could never express. I didn't look around at the faces around me quite yet, afraid of what I'd find there. He kissed my forehead and put his arms around my waist. I finally peeked at the others and recognized Henry and Kate, with their dogs and Ky wrestling nearby. Kate had an arm around a young girl comfortingly, who looked a bit like her. I smiled to them. Kate smiled back but the girl just looked down at her Mary Jane's. I smiled at her adorable shyness.

I noticed Walter's daughters, Ella and Irene, amongst others I didn't know. They didn't gawk at me like the others but they did stare. Walter's arm tightened around me, making me feel less alone in the spotlight. He looked down at me, ignoring everyone else and said in a calm voice, completely undeterred by the spotlight, "Good morning. How did you sleep?" He pushed me into his body with his hands on my waist and looked at me smolderingly; I melted under his gaze.

I smiled, slightly dazed by his beauty, temporarily ignoring the crowd, whose attention was beginning to drift back to each other. "Okay, I guess," I said. I didn't feel the need to tell him I woke up suffocating on a blanket.

He didn't kiss me, thankfully, in front of everyone, but he didn't need to; his eyes did all the work. He appraised me not-so-discreetly and opened his mouth to say something heated, clearly, but was cut off.

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" I heard from beside us. Walter's defined jaw clenched slightly and we both turned to look at the boy beside us. He was perhaps my age, with dirty blonde hair like Walter and a beard that was much scruffier than Walter's neatly cropped facial hair. He had a thickly muscled body that rivaled a bull and a deathly glimmer in his black eyes that made me naturally wary of him. But it wasn't enough to scare me off. I met his arrogantly confident eyes with my own. His mouth was in the ghost of a smile, like he was amused and didn't care that the arrogant emotion was oozing from him. I narrowed my eyes. I could already tell he was a hotheaded ass; he reminded me of my brother's stupid old football friends—but worse.

Walter had pulled away from me but kept his hand on my waist. In fact, as he spoke, his hand slipped lower down my back to my ass. I tried to keep my face straight as he introduced us, but it was difficult considering how much he teasing me. I bit my lip to keep from smiling. "Azalea, this is Dylan. Dylan, this is Azalea."

Dylan stuck out his meaty hand for me to shake and I reached for it. But when his fingertips met mine, I gasped, flinching as blood and pain and war flashing behind my eyelids. I pulled my hand from his, feeling like I had just seen some really awful and gruesome horror movie. As I stood flustered, realizing I had had another vision, his arms tightened around me, asking what was wrong.

I blinked up at him. "Nothing." But it wasn't nothing and I could see on his face that he knew it. He furrowed his brow yet kept quiet. I turned back to Dylan, who looked at me with an odd concern. He was a handsome boy but he also seemed like he could rip me in half in a fit of rage. I'll be sure to keep my distance.

"Is everything alright?" he asked warily, his hand still slightly outreached from when I pulled away, like it was shocked in place by my little fit.

I nodded politely, unsmiling. I couldn't seem to; every time I closed my eyes I saw all those dead bodies violently displayed across the back of my eyelids. I shuddered. "It's nice to meet you, Dylan," I lied quietly.