CHAPTER 187: [187] A GODDESS’S FIRST TIME

Xavier leaned back slightly, studying Calypso’s face in the volcanic light. The golden sparkles that always accompanied her had settled into a gentle shimmer around her shoulders, like starlight caught in silk. Her wine-red hair cascaded around features that belonged to Lady Selene but carried Calypso’s unmistakable spirit—the slight upturn at the corner of her mouth when she was pleased with herself, the way her eyes crinkled at the edges when she smiled genuinely rather than for effect. In this light, the subtle glow of her skin made her look both ethereal and tantalizingly real.

"You know," he said, his voice taking on that teasing tone she’d grown to recognize, the one that always preceded either brilliance or disaster, "I’ve been thinking about something."

"Oh no." Calypso’s eyes narrowed playfully, pink irises catching the reddish light from the volcanic pools nearby. "That tone usually means trouble. The last time you used it, we ended up swimming in that monster-infested lake."

"Remember when we first met? In the Liminal Space?" Xavier’s hands moved to her waist, fingers splaying across the soft fabric of her dress, feeling the warmth of her beneath the expensive material. The touch was both casual and intimate, a familiarity that would have been unthinkable during their first encounter. "You were sitting on that ridiculous throne, bored out of your mind, playing with those divine cards of yours."

"I was not bored," she protested, though her lips twitched with the effort of maintaining her dignity. Her fingers unconsciously smoothed the front of her dress where his hands had been. "I was... strategically disinterested. There’s a difference. Gods don’t get bored—we simply find certain temporal experiences less engaging than others."

"Right. And you had this whole speech about being a goddess, about how mortals should be grateful for your attention." Xavier’s grip shifted, testing her reaction.

Calypso’s eyes widened as she caught the shift in his expression. "Xavier, what are you—"

He swept her up in one smooth motion, one arm behind her knees and the other supporting her back. Calypso let out a surprised yelp that echoed off the stone walls of the garden.

"PUT ME DOWN!" The command came out in her old imperious tone. But the effect was ruined by the way she immediately wound her arms around his neck, holding on despite her protests. "I am a goddess! You can’t just—this is completely inappropriate! Mortals don’t carry—"

"There she is," Xavier said, grinning as he adjusted his hold on her. "I was wondering when the real Calypso would show up."

"I am being serious!" But she was fighting a smile now, the divine authority cracking around the edges. "People will see! What will they think of Lady Selene being carried around like—like some tavern wench?"

"They’ll think Lord Xavien is very devoted to his lady," Xavier replied, starting toward the path that led back to the residential quarters. His steps were unhurried, confident. "Besides, when has Calypso Valentine ever cared what mortals think?"

"That’s different!" Calypso’s cheeks flushed pink, though whether from embarrassment or something else entirely, Xavier couldn’t tell. "I have a reputation to maintain! Standards!"

"Your standards included turning the afterlife into a casino," Xavier pointed out, navigating around a cluster of crystalline formations. "I think your reputation can handle this."

Calypso opened her mouth to argue, then seemed to realize they were moving toward the residential wing. Her protests died, replaced by a different kind of awareness. The way she looked at him changed, ancient wisdom mixing with something far more immediate.

"Xavier." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "Where are we going?"

"My room."

The silence stretched between them as they walked through corridors lit by crystal formations and volcanic vents. Servants moved aside respectfully, though Xavier caught more than one curious glance directed at Lady Selene being carried through the halls. Calypso seemed to notice too, burying her face against his shoulder.

"This is mortifying," she mumbled against his neck. "I’m supposed to be dignified."

"You’re supposed to be yourself," Xavier corrected.

They reached his chambers—rooms that had served as both luxury and prison during his time in Hearthome. Xavier paused at the door, looking down at Calypso. Her wine-red hair had come loose from its careful arrangement, falling in waves around her shoulders. Her pink eyes held a mixture of nervousness and longing that made his chest tight.

"Last chance to change your mind," he said quietly. "I can put you down, walk you back to your chambers, and we can pretend this was just... an impulse."

Calypso reached up to touch his face, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "Do you want to pretend?"

"No." The answer came without hesitation. "I’ve wanted this since that night we almost... since the apartment. Maybe since the first time you kissed me."

"Then don’t put me down," she said, her voice steady despite the flush creeping up her neck. "Not yet."

Xavier shifted her weight to one arm long enough to open the door, then carried her inside. The chambers were spacious, warmed by volcanic vents and lit by crystal formations embedded in the walls. The main room featured a sitting area with carved stone furniture and thick rugs, while through an archway lay the bedroom with its massive four-poster bed.

He set her down gently in the main room, his hands lingering at her waist. Calypso stood close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, could see the way her breathing had quickened.

"I should probably mention," she said, her voice slightly breathless, "that I’ve never... I mean, as a goddess, physical relationships were always..." She gestured vaguely. "Theoretical."

Xavier felt something settle in his chest—not surprise, exactly, but a deeper understanding of the trust she was placing in him. "We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for."

"I didn’t say I wasn’t ready." Calypso’s chin lifted, some of her divine confidence returning. "I said it was new."

"Big difference," Xavier agreed, his hands moving to frame her face. "Want to know a secret?"

"Always."

"This is new for me too." At her questioning look, he clarified. His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones. "The part where it’s you."

Calypso’s eyes grew bright, though she blinked rapidly to keep tears from falling. "You’re going to make me cry again."

"Good tears or bad tears?"

"Good tears. Definitely good tears." She rose on her toes, bringing their faces closer together. "Though I reserve the right to panic if this gets too overwhelming."

"Deal. But only if you promise to tell me if you need to stop."

"I promise." Calypso’s hands found the front of his shirt, fingers playing with the fabric. "Though I should warn you—I might get a little... divine... if things get intense. Glowing, sparkling, that sort of thing. Apparently it’s unavoidable when I’m experiencing strong emotions."

Xavier couldn’t help but smile. "I think I can handle a little divine light show."

"You say that now," Calypso muttered, but she was smiling too. "Just remember, you asked for this."

"I did," Xavier said, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. "And I’m asking again."

The kiss started gentle, tentative, but quickly deepened as months of restrained longing finally found expression. Calypso melted against him, her hands fisting in his shirt as if anchoring herself to something solid in a world that had become uncertain.

When they broke apart, both breathing hard, Xavier noticed the golden sparkles around Calypso had intensified, swirling in complex patterns that seemed to respond to her heartbeat.

"See?" she said, slightly breathless. "I told you about the glowing."

"You’re beautiful."

Calypso’s cheeks flushed deeper, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she took his hand and started toward the bedroom. "Come on, before I lose my nerve and start acting like a proper goddess again."

"Heaven forbid," Xavier said, following her. "I much prefer the improper goddess."

"Careful what you wish for," Calypso warned, glancing back at him with eyes that held promises of exactly how improper she could be. "You might get it."

The bedroom was dimly lit by crystal formations that cast shifting patterns across the stone walls. The four-poster bed dominated the space, its posts carved from volcanic rock and draped with silk curtains. Calypso paused beside it, suddenly seeming smaller in the large room.

"Second thoughts?" Xavier asked, stopping beside her.

"More like... processing," Calypso said. "This is really happening. After everything we’ve been through, all the almost-moments and interrupted conversations and forced distance... we’re actually here."

"We’re here," Xavier confirmed. He reached for her hands, intertwining their fingers. "And we have all night. No interruptions, no emergencies, no one trying to separate us or use us for political gain. Just us."

Calypso squeezed his hands, drawing strength from the contact. "Just us," she repeated, as if testing the words. "I like the sound of that."

"Good," Xavier said, pulling her closer. "Because I plan on taking my time with you."

The promise in his voice made Calypso’s breath catch, and the golden sparkles around her flared brighter. "Xavier..."

"I love the way you say my name," he said, his hands moving to the ties of her dress. "Like it means something."

"It does mean something," Calypso said, her own hands working at the buttons of his shirt. "It means everything."