So, no, I was never going to become one of the Thirteen.
I never wanted it, frankly. Hard to go with the flow when you’re the one directing it. It’s a lot of responsibility and I’ve seen the toll it takes on those who hold those positions. The power might be nice, but I have everything I could ever want. Why do I need more?
I know better now.
Hephaestus watches me like he’s not sure if I poisoned his drink. Honestly, it’s not a completely irrational fear. I wouldn’t do it, but there are others in the upper city who wouldn’t hesitate. But if Eris wanted him dead, he’d be dead, and I might be so furious at her that I can’t think straight, but I won’t trample on her plans.
“But you do want to hurt her. Hurt us, really.”
Hephaestus shrugs. “I got what I wanted. I’m one of the Thirteen.”
Surely he doesn’t expect me to believe that line. I’ve seen Minos’s kind before; Eris’s father, the last Zeus, was a lot like him. Charismatic enough to have the people of Olympus enraptured, and all the more dangerous because of it. Minos didn’t come to Olympus to place one of his children among the Thirteen.
He came for Olympus itself.
Which is why Eris is doing what she’s doing. The best and worst thing about her is that she will always put this city first. Her father was Olympus’s monster and raised his children to be the same. Somehow it got twisted into this messed-up sense of responsibility because of the family she was born into. Now that she’s Aphrodite, that feeling of responsibility has only gotten stronger.
Her brother is leaning hard on her. Probably her sister, too. Three of the Kasios family. It’s never happened even once in Olympus’s history.
“Why did you invite me for a drink?” Hephaestus asks abruptly. “Be honest with me.”
Honesty is a risk, but it’s all I have. I take a breath and lay my cards on the table. “I don’t want you to hurt Eris.”
He studies me. Hephaestus is a big man. He looks every inch an old-world warrior with his broad shoulders, square jaw, and callused palms. Based on the final Ares trial, his foster brother is trained with a sword, and I suspect Hephaestus is as well.
He’s dangerous. The kind of dangerous we don’t see in Olympus. Here, battles are fought with bladed words and shady alliances. Or they used to be. The assassination clause was virtually unknown until a few weeks ago.
Until Minos came.
Until Theseus murdered the last Hephaestus.
He smirks. “She dumped you and married me. Why do you care what happens to her?”
I shrug, forcing my body language to remain light and uncaring. “I am angrier at her than I’ve ever been, but that doesn’t mean I want her hurt.” I love her. That love might have twisted and morphed into something unrecognizable, but we have too much history to ignore. “You obviously didn’t want this marriage, and your family has more than proven that they’re willing to kill to get the titles. Killing her would give them the Aphrodite title and end your marriage in one move.”
“I won’t pretend I haven’t considered it.” He shakes his head. “But you’re missing a vital part of negotiations, Adonis.” Hephaestus leans forward. He’s tall enough that we’re almost even like this, tall enough that the bar between us suddenly doesn’t feel like much of a barrier. “What will you offer me to ensure her protection?”
I blink. “That wasn’t very subtle.”
“Neither was your statement.”
He’s right, but I’m merely matching his energy. Since he took over the title, it’s never been clearer that he isn’t from around here. Minos might know how to talk to the press, but he hasn’t passed on that skill to his foster sons. Hephaestus’s brusque attitude has already set people on edge and created a problem with how people perceive him. Eris’s antics this morning are just one more nail in the coffin. “We do things a certain way here. Trying to go against that isn’t going to earn you any friends.”
“I’m not here to make friends.”
Yeah, I know. “That’s the problem.” I catch a faint thread of some woodsy scent he’s wearing and have to tell myself not to inhale deeply. Hephaestus is attractive enough to turn heads if one is willing to risk their safety in his bed. He’s the enemy, but this is Olympus. Sleeping with your enemies is practically a professional sport. No, the more important truth is that he’s Eris’s husband. No matter how angry I am at her, that’s a line I shouldn’t cross.