Chapter Eight

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Chapter Eight

"Daddy, why does your eyes make lights?"

His eyes were always my favorite. They didn't glow like light bulbs or spotlights. It was a soft glow, a gentle glow, like a light bug's light. Except it was blue, electric blue. Such a vivid shade of blue. I couldn't count how many hours I'd sat in his arms, staring up at them as he looked down at me. I always felt safe when he held me, when he sat in that chair in the corner of my nursery, his big muscular arms holding me like I was fragile, his hair hanging loose over his shoulders, and his eyes, those glowing eyes, watching me with the kind of unfettered love any parent should have for their child.

"I don't know," his voice would respond, the deep timbre of it rumbling in his chest, so soft in the darkness that surrounded us, "I woke up one night and I could see." I was so awed by that, so curious. I wanted to know, always wanted to know, why his eyes glowed. As a child, he'd always say the same thing.

I don't know. I don't know.

Growing up, his I don't knows turned into sarcastic guesses.

Maybe it was toxic radiation?

Maybe Cronus's stomach acid popped me in the eyes.

Maybe I was born a freak.

It was the poison plants, for sure.

We never figured out why his eyes glowed, why he could see in the dark. We also had no idea why I could see in the dark, why my eyes glowed. Nobody in our family lineage had that power. Cronus didn't. Uranus didn't. Was it a gift from the Source, to help Hades maneuver the hell that was his life? Then why did I get it? Had it become hereditary?

We had no idea.

And that was why Hades hated to talk about it.

Because he didn't know.

He hated not knowing things.

Just like he was going to hate not knowing where I was.

I woke up feeling groggy. However, I was surprised to not feel any pain. My ankles didn't feel swollen, my back didn't hurt like a bitch, my head wasn't spinning, no nausea. A small spark of fear went through me and I immediately reached for my stomach, breathing out a long sigh of relief as my hand slid over the mound. I stroked my stomach for a moment, taking deep breathes to calm myself down, not that I had to do it too much, because I calmed down easily.

Despite the fact that I clearly wasn't at home anymore.

I blinked past the bleariness to scan the room I was in. It was certainly nice. Lavish with heavy drapes on the walls made in expensive gold brocade, diamond glass windows that looked out over a beautiful oasis. I was in some thick fluffy canopy bed with a red and gold bed set, amazing dark and sleek furniture. And across the way, laying across a thick leather couch, was Tristan. He seemed to be unconscious, laying there with his head propped up on a tufted pillow, one arm over his stomach, the other dangling off onto the floor. A blanket was laid across him, like someone had taken the time to take care of him.

Confused, I blinked a few more times, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. It was difficult to concentrate, though, because clearly I'd been drugged. I felt way too calm, way too relaxed, and there was no more pain of any kind. It was alarming, however, because I wasn't supposed to take medications during my pregnancy. According to Hades, medications tended to be dangerous for male faes as it could corrupt the pregnancy. Our bodies were fragiler than females during this time.

Swallowing, I tried to find some strength to lift the blankets from myself, but I couldn't. Not that I had to move much because the door to the room opened and I looked up, watching a male come in pushing a fancy butler's cart piled high with food and drink.

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