Heart of the Priestess

Chapter 2

I wasn’t sure if dinner was supposed to feel like defeat, but that’s exactly what it tasted like. The restaurant was beautiful—open terrace, candles flickering against stone walls, soft music carried on the warm night breeze. It should’ve been the kind of setting you savor. Instead, I was alone at a table for three, staring at the empty seats where Julia and Shay should’ve been.

I thumbed my phone for the tenth time and shot Julia another message.

Where are you?

It took a minute before she replied:

Ate in. Didn’t want to make you cover another expensive dinner.

I rolled my eyes and typed furiously:

I don’t care if I pay.

No response. Typical Julia—practical to a fault. I sighed, waved down the waiter, and ordered another glass of wine and a refill on the charcuterie crackers. If Dio wanted me to play the part of his loyal relic hunter, I might as well eat and drink like one.

Leaning back in my chair, I let my shoulders sink. The whole day had been a furnace of frustration—another pointless dig, unanswered texts from Dio, and that man. Lex. His strange words still echoed in my head, looping like a broken record. Macedonian? Old Greek? I couldn’t place it. Shay could probably figure it out in a second, but he wasn’t here.

I swirled my wine, staring at the crimson ripples. Forget him, Rosie. He’s a model. Julia said so. Probably just here for a photoshoot.

I looked up—and nearly dropped my glass.

There he was.

Standing at the bar, relaxed as if he owned the place, ordering something low and smooth to the bartender. Lex.

I froze, ducking slightly and snatching up the drink menu like a makeshift shield. My pulse jumped as I peeked over the top, catching his profile. Julia wasn’t wrong—his face was unfairly sculpted, jawline sharp enough to cut glass. Even from this angle, there was something about him that felt… deliberate, like he wasn’t just in this hotel—he was meant to be here.

I ducked back down, pretending to read. Of all the hotels in Amphipolis, it has to be this one?

My thumb hovered over my phone as I started to text Julia when a voice came from directly across the table.

“I thought it was you.”

I lowered the menu slowly.

Lex sat there like the table had been waiting for him all along. One arm rested lazily on the chair, the other holding a tumbler of amber liquid. His golden-flecked blue eyes fixed on me, that same faint, unreadable amusement tugging at his lips.

“What are you doing?” I asked flatly.

He glanced at my wine glass, then the half-eaten charcuterie board, and smirked.

“Against a pit of refills you fight with a cheese board?” His voice was velvet-smooth, calm enough that it almost masked the tease. “Is this how you practice being clumsy?”

My jaw tightened. “I wasn’t clumsy. You grabbed me without asking.”

Lex leaned back slightly, completely unbothered. “I kept you from breaking your neck. You’re welcome.”

I sipped my wine to keep from throwing it at him. “And now you’re stalking me?”

“Not stalking,” he said easily, swirling his drink. “Coincidence.”

“Right,” I said dryly. “Because it’s perfectly normal for a world-famous model to be in rural Macedonia near an excavation site.”

He didn’t flinch. “What can I say? I like history.”

“Of course you do,” I muttered. “Tell me—do the runways prepare you for ancient ruins, or is that extra training?”

For a moment, something like amusement softened his expression, but he said nothing. Instead, he took another slow sip, watching me as if he found this exchange far more entertaining than it should’ve been.

“This place,” he said finally, glancing toward the dark windows overlooking the ruins. “It has a certain… weight, doesn’t it? Like the stones remember.”

I followed his gaze. The moonlight washed the city in pale silver, shadows stretching long and thin across the ground. From here, it looked quiet, almost peaceful. “It feels like dust and heatstroke to me,” I said.

That faint smile touched his lips again. “Fair enough,” he murmured, finishing his drink.

He stood then, adjusting his cuff like he had all the time in the world. As he stepped back from the table, his eyes lingered on mine just long enough to unsettle me again, like there was something unsaid between us that I didn’t understand.

“Try not to fall into any more trenches,” he said casually. “Next time, I might not be there to catch you.”

And just like that, he walked away, disappearing into the low hum of music and candlelight.

I sat frozen for a moment, my wine untouched, trying to decide if that was a warning, a tease, or both.

A chair scraped across from me.

“I got news, I—” Shay stopped mid-sentence, glancing over his shoulder at the retreating figure of Lex. He gave a slow wave. “That’s the guy Julia was talking about, right?”

I blinked, thrown off. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Shay shrugged, setting his laptop bag on the floor. “Just had dinner.”

“Why didn’t you just sit with me?” I demanded.

“I was kinda eating and working.” He shrugged again, completely unbothered. “Also, you’re technically my boss.”

“I am your boss. Why would that stop you from eating with me?”

Shay gave another shrug, gesturing vaguely toward where Lex had vanished. “Clearly it worked out. You got some time with that dude.”

I scowled at him. “It wasn’t like that.”

“Sure,” Shay said, unconvinced as he pulled his laptop out and flipped it open. “Anyway—the amulet.”

I leaned forward despite myself. “What about it?”

Shay tapped at his screen, eyes scanning some document. “Based on the throne room’s foundation layout and old texts, the amulet was likely sealed beneath the rock floor after Roxana’s imprisonment. It would explain why no one’s found it. The thing’s deep—way deeper than where the others have been digging.”

I frowned. “So you’re saying it’s under the site we were standing at today.”

“Exactly. We can start in the morning,” Shay said, snapping the laptop closed. He looked exhausted but oddly satisfied, like this was the first piece of good news in days.

I leaned back in my chair, wine glass in hand, my gaze drifting unconsciously to where Lex had disappeared.

“Great,” I muttered. “The morning can’t come soon enough.”