Eros

Chapter 26: The Real Eros

Eros moved through the crowd, his eyes in a constant motion of searching. He knew she was here somewhere in the crush of bodies. He could feel her. He could hear her. He could taste her.

His heart pounded with anticipation. Ever since he resolved that he still had another chance to show his uninhibited love, he had been anxiously awaiting for this moment. To hear the soft timbre of her voice. To see the happy glow of her eyes as she shared her dreams. To share his deepest regret of breaking her heart. He yearned to touch her again, and feel the sweetness of her mouth over his as he let himself go. His heart beat for no one else but her . . .

How senseless of him to have not realized that fact sooner.

"Hey, Eros." A pretty girl stopped him, her palm resting against his chest. Eros flinched. Her touch, poison. "You promised me you were going to show me how you catch butterflies?"

Eros gave her smiled that didn't reach his eyes. He gazed at her hand and wrapped his fingers around her wrist. He bent closer to her as she took a few steps up the stairs to block his pathway.

She smiled.

"I have one I have my mind on," he said coolly, disgusted with how open he was with all females. How blind he was! How shameless, how gross and careless. He was ignoble in every way conceivable. It was no wonder Angelina despised him so. He was a cad. "Now if you will excuse me." With a quick flick, he removed her hold upon him and hurried on, not looking back.

He could feel Angelina's tears. Her sorrow. Her torment. Her heart breaking . . . He knew those feelings very well and he yearned—no, agonized—to set things right again for the love of her.

Eros sobbed as the floor seemed to close in on him. The body heat stifled his breath. The music deafened him. The laughter grated his sanity. He was desperate to find her before it was too late.

"Angelina?" he finally called, though his whisper barely passed his lips. He pulled open the doors. A whoosh of cool night air kissed his tingling face. He ignored the soft tickle of his hair and glanced at the full moon hidden behind dancing leaves. He could feel her. She was here.

His heart danced with joy. If the pendant had not split the moment it grazed her sweet skin, he would never have had this intuition now. Her impact upon Aphrodite's curse meant only one thing. That one thing he should have realized soon after, but was much too confused for clarity of mind: he was in love with her.

In love . . .

As he passed others, blatantly ignoring their brazen invitations, he remembered how he had treated her the last time he had seen her. His body tightened with terror, and he staggered back a few steps, jolted from his pursuit into shock. He remembered her the night she had stepped into the bathroom with him. How he had sneered her.

His head, the lights, the sound. All of it spun so wild, he pressed into a nearby pillar. Would she have him? He should have lovingly wrapped her abused body with his embrace. He should have cleaned her pretty face with his kisses. He should have healed her wounded soul with his love. He did none of those things, poisoned against her by the lying Medusa's forked tongue.

Eros pushed onward, knowing exactly where to find her.

"Angelina?" His voice was stronger now, however, choked with tears.

"Angie. My name is Angie."

Eros smiled, relief flooding his every sense as a rain would to parched landcapes. He turned to the voice behind him. He sorrowed at the sight of her. Black streaks ran down her face, her hair a disarray. Swollen eyes. A fierce flush. Trembling lips.