Meanwhile...

The room was dim, illuminated only by the pale glow of a desk lamp and the faint blue light from Liam’s laptop screen. A half-empty bottle of whiskey sat on the desk beside him, the amber liquid sloshing gently as he poured another finger into his glass. He hadn’t been much of a drinker before, but these last three weeks had pushed him into habits he wouldn’t have considered before.

Three weeks. Three weeks of silence.

He downed the glass in one go, wincing at the burn as it slid down his throat. It was better than the hollowness in his chest. He had never gone this long without talking to her. Not once in all their years as friends. Best friends.

The argument replayed in his mind on an endless loop, no matter how much he tried to drink it away. He could still see her standing there, her voice sharp and cutting, her anger so palpable it practically crackled in the air.

She had blamed him. For everything. For pushing her, for encouraging her, for supporting her. For everything she now hated about herself.

Liam sighed, running a hand through his messy hair as he slumped back into his chair. He hated himself for how it all spiralled. How he had pushed her to be strong-willed to help her navigate the trials. How he hadn’t realized that she’d see his encouragement as manipulation.

And then there was the blowjob.

Liam’s stomach churned, and he reached for the bottle again. Aphrodite’s twisted sense of humor had **** his hand—her ultimatum had been clear. But he hadn’t been honest with her. Not really. He should have told her about Aphrodite’s challenge, should have explained why he needed her to do it. Instead, he’d let it happen, and now he couldn’t stop seeing the betrayal in her eyes whenever he thought about it.

The whiskey swirled in the glass as he stared at it, his mind racing. He had no idea how the trial was progressing now. No clue what she was doing, how she was managing without him. He assumed she was making progress—Aphrodite hadn’t shown up to berate her, after all. But how?

His thoughts darkened as he imagined the possibilities. Was she using her appearance and sexuality to manipulate her way through? He hated the idea, hated the thought of her degrading herself like that, but… what if she was? What if that was the only way she saw to move forward?

No, she would never do that. Never.

He clenched his fist, his knuckles turning white. He had seen the way she had been changing—not just physically, but mentally too. The curse was relentless, and it was twisting her into someone he barely recognized. Or maybe it was just exposing the parts of her she didn’t want to face.

His head dropped into his hands. “I shouldn’t have let it get this far,” he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper.

A sharp knock at the door broke through his thoughts.

Liam froze, his head snapping up. For a moment, he thought he had imagined it, but then it came again—three quick, firm knocks.

He stared at the door, his heart pounding in his chest. It couldn’t be her. Could it?

He stood slowly, his legs unsteady from the **** as he made his way to the door. His hand hesitated on the doorknob, his mind racing with possibilities.

And then, with a deep breath, he opened it.

The knock at the door hung heavy in the air as Liam opened it, and his breath caught at the sight before him. Standing there was a vision of beauty that could only belong to Aphrodite herself.

Her form was striking, radiating a confidence and allure that seemed to fill the entire dorm. She had taken the appearance of a stunning Mediterranean woman in her late twenties, with sun-kissed olive skin that glowed under the dim hallway light. Her honey-blonde hair fell in soft, cascading waves down her back, perfectly framing her sharp cheekbones and full, plush lips painted a provocative shade of deep crimson.

Her outfit was as bold as her presence: a sheer, black lace bodysuit that hugged her curvaceous figure, the plunging neckline showcasing her ample, perky breasts. Her waist was cinched with a thin golden belt, drawing attention to her hourglass shape, and the bodysuit’s high-cut design accentuated her long, toned legs. Her stilettos, black with gold accents, added height to her already statuesque frame, making her tower over Liam’s six-foot form.

“Good evening, Liam,” she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. Her amber eyes glinted mischievously as she stepped inside without waiting for an invitation.

Liam stepped aside, unsure how to react. She moved with practiced ease, swaying her hips as she crossed the small dorm and perched herself elegantly on the couch where Liam had been sitting moments ago. She crossed her legs, her movements fluid and deliberate, making it impossible for Liam not to notice the way her thighs pressed together.

“Well?” Aphrodite tilted her head, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Are you going to stand there gawking, or will you join me?” She patted the space next to her, her invitation sounding more like a command.

Liam hesitated for only a moment. Normally, he would have politely declined or tried to create some distance, but something about her presence today made resistance seem futile. With a quiet exhale, he walked over and sat down beside her, closer than he would have intended.

“That’s better,” she said, her voice velvety smooth. She leaned slightly toward him, her perfume—a mix of jasmine and vanilla—filling his senses. “Now, isn’t this cozy?”

Liam cleared his throat, unsure how to respond. He wasn’t matching her energy, but he wasn’t pulling away, either.

Aphrodite picked up the half-empty bottle of whiskey from the table, inspecting it with mild amusement. “Drinking alone, are we?” She poured herself a glass, her movements slow and deliberate, and then brought the glass to her lips, taking a slow sip. The way her lips wrapped around the rim of the glass was mesmerizing, and Liam found himself unable to look away.

“It’s… been a tough few weeks,” Liam admitted finally, his voice low.

“Oh, I know,” Aphrodite said, placing the glass down and turning her full attention to him. “I’ve been watching, Liam. You and Luna. Quite the falling out you’ve had, hmm?”

Liam winced at the mention. The fight, the silence, the tension—it all came rushing back. “Yeah. It’s been… rough.”

Aphrodite’s expression softened slightly, though her tone remained teasing. “Poor thing. Three weeks without a word from her. And,” she added, leaning in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “three weeks without any… release. That must be so hard for you, darling.”

Liam’s face turned red, and he looked away, but Aphrodite wasn’t having it. She placed a perfectly manicured hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to her.

“It must be ****,” she continued, her amber eyes locking onto his. “To only be able to cum to her. To have Aphrodite herself bind your desires so thoroughly, and now… nothing. No touch, no relief.”

Liam swallowed hard, the weight of her words hitting him. “Yeah, well… it’s not like I have a choice, is it?”

“No, you don’t,” she agreed, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not difficult. I can see it in your eyes, Liam. The frustration, the longing… You poor, sweet boy.”

Her hand slid from his arm to his thigh, a touch so light it was almost imperceptible, but it sent a jolt through him nonetheless. She was pushing him, and he hated how easily he was falling into her trap.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” she continued, her voice a seductive hum. “About how strong you’ve been, how patient. It’s admirable, really. But everyone has their limits, don’t they?”

She reached for her glass again, taking another slow sip, her tongue darting out to catch a stray droplet of whiskey from her lips. Liam’s eyes followed the movement despite himself, and she noticed, her smile widening.

“You like that, don’t you?” she teased, setting the glass down and leaning in even closer. “The way I drink. The way I move. It’s okay to admit it, Liam. You don’t have to fight it.”

Liam’s breath hitched as she inched closer, her hand still resting on his thigh. He couldn’t deny the effect she was having on him, and for the first time, he didn’t want to.

“You’ve been through so much,” she murmured, her lips just inches from his ear. “You deserve a little comfort. A little… distraction.”

Her hand slid slightly higher on his thigh, her nails grazing the fabric of his jeans. Liam’s pulse quickened, and he found himself leaning into her touch, his resolve crumbling.

Aphrodite chuckled softly, her voice a sultry whisper. “See? That’s better. No need to resist, darling. Just let yourself… feel.”

She reached for the bottle again, pouring herself another glass and holding it out to Liam. “Drink with me,” she said, her tone playful yet commanding.

Liam took the glass, their fingers brushing as he did. He brought it to his lips, taking a sip, and Aphrodite watched him intently, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“That’s my good boy,” she purred, leaning back slightly but still keeping close. “Now, tell me, Liam… what’s really on your mind?”

The room felt heavier now, steeped in Aphrodite’s intoxicating presence. Her hand lingered on Liam’s thigh as they continued to drink, her laughter filling the air with a melodic, flirtatious tone. The whiskey in Liam’s glass was long forgotten; his focus was entirely on her—her touch, her scent, her overwhelming beauty.

“You know,” Aphrodite said, trailing her fingers up and down his arm, her nails grazing his skin just enough to send shivers down his spine, “it’s a shame she doesn’t appreciate you.”

Liam frowned, glancing at her. “What do you mean?”

Aphrodite tilted her head, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Oh, come now, Liam. Don’t play coy. You and Luna were close—so close. And now? Nothing. Silence. No thank-yous, no apologies. Just… nothing.”

Liam’s jaw tightened. The truth in her words stung, but her tone—sweet, understanding, and laced with something almost conspiratorial—kept him from retreating.

“She’s probably busy with the trials,” Liam muttered, though even he didn’t believe his own words.

“Oh, she’s busy, all right,” Aphrodite said with a soft chuckle, leaning in until their shoulders touched. Her breath was warm against his ear as she whispered, “But not in the way you think.”

“What are you talking about?” Liam’s voice was cautious but intrigued.

Aphrodite sighed, her hand sliding up to rest against his chest, her touch firm yet gentle. “I don’t want to upset you, Liam. You’ve been through enough. But…” She trailed off, biting her lip in a way that made Liam’s heart race.

“But what?” he pressed, his curiosity outweighing his hesitation.

She pulled back slightly, her golden eyes searching his. “She’s not the person you think she is anymore. She’s changed. I’ve seen it, Liam. The way she’s… throwing herself at these men. Seducing them. Using them.” Her voice dropped, her words dripping with feigned concern. “It’s not strategy; it’s… something else entirely. Something selfish. She’s forgotten about you.”

Liam’s fists clenched, his mind racing. “She wouldn’t—”

“Oh, wouldn’t she?” Aphrodite interrupted, her tone soft but firm. “Let me show you, darling. Let me show you exactly what she’s been up to.”

Before Liam could protest, Aphrodite reached up, her delicate fingers brushing against his temple. The touch was light, almost tender, but the effect was immediate. His vision blurred for a moment before a vivid image took shape.

Lucas was straddling Vincent in the backseat of a car, her dress hiked up as she leaned in to kiss him deeply. Vincent’s hands were all over her, and his voice was a low murmur as he pulled back, smirking.

“What about that friend of yours?” Vincent asked, his tone dripping with condescension. “The guy I saw you with before. What’s his name? Liam?”

Lucas laughed, a sound that was cruel and dismissive. “Liam? Oh, please. He’s nothing. Just a broke, useless college kid. Barely a man.” She leaned in closer to Vincent, her lips brushing against his ear. “And let’s just say he’s not exactly impressive where it counts, if you know what I mean.”

Vincent laughed, and the two resumed their heated makeout session as Liam’s vision abruptly cleared.

He blinked, his heart pounding, his mind reeling. The room around him felt too small, too suffocating.

“She’s… she actually said that?” he asked, his voice shaking.

Aphrodite nodded solemnly, though her lips twitched with barely contained satisfaction. “I wouldn’t lie to you, Liam. You deserve to know the truth.” She shifted closer to him, her hand returning to his thigh, her touch more intimate now. “She’s out there, living her life, using people, mocking you… And here you are, loyal to a fault. It’s heartbreaking, really.”

Liam’s chest heaved as he struggled to process what he’d seen. The anger, the hurt, the humiliation—it all swirled inside him, a storm he couldn’t contain.

“And you know what’s worse?” Aphrodite continued, her voice a seductive whisper. “She doesn’t deserve you. Not your kindness, not your loyalty, not your…” She trailed off, her fingers brushing dangerously close to the inseam of his jeans. “...strength.”

Liam’s breath hitched, his resolve crumbling under her touch, her words, her presence. For the first time in weeks, he felt seen, desired, wanted.

“You’re better than this, Liam,” Aphrodite murmured, leaning in until her lips were mere inches from his. “Better than her. And I think… you deserve someone who sees that.”

She reached for her glass, taking another slow, deliberate sip before setting it down and turning her full attention back to him. Her hand slid up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against his skin.

“You deserve to be appreciated,” she said softly, her golden eyes locking onto his. “To be touched. To be loved.”

Liam swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew he should pull away, should resist her, but the warmth of her touch and the softness of her voice were too much. He leaned into her hand, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he let himself feel—really feel—for the first time in weeks.

“That’s my good boy,” Aphrodite whispered, her lips curving into a triumphant smile. “Let me show you how it feels to be wanted, Liam. Truly wanted.”

Liam's heart raced as Aphrodite's hand brushed against his jaw, her touch electric and undeniably intoxicating. She was so close now, her golden eyes boring into his with a fiery intensity that made it impossible to look away. The world around them seemed to blur and fade, leaving only the two of them in the suffocating intimacy of the dimly lit dorm room.

“You’re such a good boy, Liam,” Aphrodite murmured, her voice like honey dripping over his senses. Her thumb grazed his cheek, and he leaned into it instinctively, craving the comfort, the attention, the validation. “You’ve been so loyal, so steadfast. And yet…” She tilted her head, a sly smile playing on her lips. “So unappreciated.”

Liam swallowed hard, his throat dry as her words sank deep into his core. He couldn’t argue with her—not when every syllable rang with a truth he hadn’t dared to admit even to himself. His chest tightened as her hand trailed down, her fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt before resting on his thigh, her touch light but deliberate.

“You deserve better,” she whispered, leaning in closer. Her lips hovered mere inches from his, her breath warm against his skin. “Don’t you think?”

Liam’s lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, he nodded weakly, his resolve crumbling as her gaze held him captive. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel like an afterthought, like an accessory to someone else’s journey. For the first time, he felt seen.

Aphrodite smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes as she closed the distance between them. Her lips met his in a kiss that was soft and slow at first, teasing and testing, before deepening into something far more passionate. Liam responded instinctively, his hands finding her waist as he pulled her closer, her curves pressing against him in a way that made his head spin.

She tasted sweet, like wine and something indescribable, something divine. Her hands tangled in his hair, her nails grazing his scalp as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. Liam’s breath hitched, his heart pounding as her body molded against his, her warmth seeping into him and igniting a fire he couldn’t hope to contain.

“You’re mine now,” she murmured against his lips, her tone possessive and dripping with satisfaction. “But you should know… if we keep going, Liam, there will be consequences. For her.”

Her words hit like a cold splash of water, and Liam froze for a moment, his hands hovering at her hips as his mind raced. He knew what she meant—knew exactly who she was referring to. The Lucas. His best friend. The person he’d fought beside, laughed with, argued with, shared countless memories with. The person he was supposed to protect.

But the weight of the past weeks—the anger, the frustration, the loneliness—pressed down on him like a vice, and in this moment, with Aphrodite’s lips on his and her body so close, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I don’t care,” Liam said, his voice low but steady, his eyes locked onto hers. “She’s made her choices. She’s the one who pushed me away. I just… I just want you right now.”

Aphrodite’s smile widened, predatory and triumphant. “Good boy,” she purred, her hands sliding up his chest as she pushed him back against the couch. “Let’s make sure you don’t regret this.”

Their lips crashed together once more, the kiss heated and **** as Liam gave in completely, his hands roaming over her body, feeling the softness of her skin, the curve of her hips. She moved with the grace of a predator, her movements calculated yet effortless, her touch sending shivers down his spine.

Her nails raked lightly down his chest, her lips never leaving his as she straddled him, her body pressing down against his in a way that made him dizzy. Liam groaned softly, his hands gripping her waist as she leaned in, her lips trailing from his mouth to his jaw, then down to his neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

“You’ve been so good, Liam,” she whispered, her voice like a caress. “So patient. You deserve this. You deserve me.”

Liam’s mind was a haze of desire and validation, his anger and frustration melting away under her touch. In this moment, nothing else mattered—not the trials, not the curse, not Lucas. All that existed was Aphrodite and the intoxicating spell she’d woven around him.

Her hands slipped beneath his shirt, her nails grazing his skin as she pulled it over his head, tossing it aside carelessly. She pressed herself against him, her warmth searing against his bare chest as their lips met once more in a kiss that was all-consuming.

“Such a good boy,” Aphrodite murmured again, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “You’re going to be mine, Liam. Completely.”

And for the first time in weeks, Liam didn’t care about the consequences. He didn’t care about what came next. All he cared about was the goddess on his lap.