The Primordials Book One - Olympus: A Pantheon Divided

Chapter Three - The Ambrose Foundation

"So let the light guide your way , hold every memory as you go.

And every road you take will always lead you home..."

- Charlie Puth

—-

Do you remember who made you forget...?

I gasp awake, a cold sweat on my brow and a weight in my chest. My head hurts, my eyes feel heavy and worn, and my throat feels raw, as though I'd been crying in my sleep. A frown pulls my mouth down as I push myself into a sitting position, forced to take things slow if only to lessen the throbbing.

Somebody effing shoot me before I get my morning coffee.

After taking a deep breath, I grind the heels of my hands into my eyes to get rid of the sleep. A soft groan follows the breath closely, and I rake a hand through my hair before I glance at the clock in shame, cringing.

At 8:45, it's the most important day in my life- and I'm already running late for work!

Do you remember who took you from me...?

I gasp again, already looking around for him, even though there's no way he could be here. Yet I still get out of bed to search the house until I'm sure I'm alone, just like I've done every morning for nearly two weeks. It's draining me, waking up to find myself still so alone, especially with last night fresh in my  mind.

And then I'm left feeling like the dumbest person on the planet, because how in the world could something so good be real? And then it hits me: I'm yearning for a man who doesn't even exist. God, I'm so pathetic!

Aggravation only adds to the confusion over this past dream. Something just wasn't settling right with me, but the feeling is already beginning to fade; it's getting harder to recall by the second.

After a few moments, I shake my head once to clear of the fog. Jesus, I really needed some coffee if my day was going to start out like this. I don't have much time before I'm seriously late for work, and getting it together was already a struggle. After pulling the my mobile off the charger, I turn it on. Knowing a shower would do me some serious good, I head into the bathroom before I start to get any missed messages.

————-

After turning the water off, I grab my towel from the bar before stepping out of the tub just in the knick of time. My phone is vibrating from where I left in on the sink, which annoys me-- but I'm even more glad I didn't leave it outside, because that would mean leaving the steamy warmth of the bathroom before I was ready.

"Hang on, I'm coming!" Wrapping the towel around my body, I press the phone in between my ear and my shoulder.

"Hello?"

"Kaliméra, beautiful."

He greets me in the usual way, earning a chuckle as I dry off.

Nico Karahalios was a Greek devil. He was rugged and swarthy, and well aware that one dark smolder in the right direction would make a girl's knees buckle. I'd come close to losing my wits several times, but he still hadn't gotten to me yet; I was pretty sure there was a line-- and I was the last person in it. Keeping him at bay for the past five years, despite his persistence, wasn't that difficult. Dealing with these dreams and having the him on my mind is more primal male than I can handle.

Figuring out if he was real was the  first step, but I was afraid that no one that perfect could ever be real. But couldn't a girl hope for more than a steamy, albeit fake one night stand that didn't end with her waking up back to reality?