Apostolos I Summon You to Human Form

Chapter 06

Accalia rushed to Acheron's side,collapsing to her knees. She picked up his hand and pressed twofingers against his wrist. His pulse was there, slow and even. Shegathered his hair away from his back to keep it free from his blood,and twisted it in a very loose, messy bun, securing it with ascrunchie from around her wrist. She hooked an arm under his andaround his chest to try and lift him so she could carry him somewheremore comfortable than the floor, but he was too tall with all thosemuscles; he was too heavy for her to move. She wasn't about to draghim anywhere, either.

Without another hesitation, she leftto grab a pillow for his head, as well as a soft washcloth and a bowlof warm water. She lifted his head gently to slide the pillowunderneath, making sure his hair wasn't tugged. Once she turned herattention to his back, her stomach lurched. It was a battle zone.Where there weren't open wounds, there were raised bumps and lines ofold scars from his lashings as a human. The wrecked condition of hisback, and the knowledge he willingly endured this treatment broke herheart.

Accalia washed his back with greatcare while fighting back her tears. She wanted to strangle Artemisfor the injustice that filled the life of the man before her. Tenthousand years of this abuse, this pain, an immeasurable weight onhis shoulders, all because he didn't want to be the cause ofsomeone's suffering. She couldn't imagine how this man's heart was socaring and thoughtful of others, despite living as one of them fortwo decades. He'd been through hell and back, and in ten thousandyears the number of people who genuinely cared about him could becounted on just his hands. The little boy from eons ago was stilldeep down inside him, the boy who just wanted to be held and toldthat everything would turn out okay in the end. The little boy whowas always met with harsh words or violence.

Thankfully, due to his expeditedhealing, the bleeding ceased, and the wounds were already beginningto scab over. She went back over his back with a soft towel to dryhis skin, and covered his legs and hips with her blanket. She didn'thave anything that had a remote possibility of fitting him, so untilhe could use his powers to summon clothes, he'd have to deal with theblanket until stores opened. She watched him a moment before gettingup. She placed the bowl in the sink and washed her hands, and ran aload of laundry including the bloodied towels.

Accalia came back into the living roomand sat down near his head so she could continue watching over him.She ran her fingertips over his cheekbone, feeling goosebumps pop upalong her arm. His skin was so soft to the touch. She traced hisjawline with one finger as a smile spread across her lips. How damnlucky was she, to have met Acheron? This ancient, gentle soul, withunfathomable power. A prince twice over, and the heir to the throneof an entire pantheon. A near-extinct pantheon, sure, but it wasstill something. And to think he didn't want any kind of title. Hewould have been happy to live a mortal's lifespan, settling down withsomeone, and raising a family.

As her fingers brushed throughAcheron's beautiful blonde hair, she let her thoughts wander to ideasof the two of them. She'd entertained thoughts like these before,when she knew of him only as a book character. She could envision howhe'd be as a father, loving and doting, and his children so spoiledthey would want for nothing. He'd be heavily involved in their lives,wanting to be there for every first, to kiss scrapes all better, tosee happy, smiling faces Christmas morning. After meeting him, shecould picture the happiness in his eyes as he gazed upon hischildren.

And his wife...

Accalia recalled how Acheron had saidin the book how the person who held his heart would never doubt hislove for them, and knowing how much he'd gone through, she believedit. She wondered what it would be like to wake up and see hispeaceful face, or to feel his strong, protective arms holding oneclose against his warm and hard body. How wonderful would it be tosee his face soften affectionately, to see love on his face. Sheimagined such an ethereal experience to be trusted so intensely, letin past every single wall he'd put up over eleven thousand years.There was a part of her that wanted to know what it'd be like knowinghe'd come home to her every night. Intimacy had crossed her mindbefore as well, but not in the sense of craving carnal pleasure, moreso considering the large amount of trust was involved. Anythingsexual with his partner would be his choice, his own will, because hewould want to.