“No colder than your heart,” I snap.
The priest ignores us as he wraps a piece of golden cloth around our hands, binding us together symbolically. He drones on about binding our lives together. It seems to go on forever, the late summer sun beating down on us and making my suit feel too tight. I want to get the fuck out of here, to move until I stop feeling like an animal in a trap.
He finally lifts our hands high. “What the gods have bound, no one should separate.”
And then it’s over.
We’ll have to wear the bindings until the reception, which seems like a good time to attempt an assassination, when both parties are awkwardly tied to each other and at least one’s dominant hand is out of commission. Another useless Olympus tradition.
My skin prickles as we walk back down the aisle together. None of the people watching us seem overly happy with this event. That’s to be expected, but I didn’t anticipate it making me feel so fucking vulnerable. I hate it.
We step through the doors, but Aphrodite doesn’t stop there. She practically drags me through the hall, past the ballroom where part of the reception will be held, and through a nondescript door.
My eyes are still adjusting to the dimness when she spins and shoves me against the wall. It’s awkward because our bound hands mean she comes with me, landing against my chest.
“You fucking bastard,” she snarls.
Just like that, I know exactly why she’s pissed. Apparently my little invitation found its home. Good. I relax back against the wall and look up at her. “Problem, Wife?”
“You know exactly what the problem is.” She grabs for my chin, but I catch her wrist before she can make contact. She narrows her eyes. “Release me.”
“Call it an overabundance of caution.” I tighten my grip a little when she yanks on it. “Wouldn’t want you clawing up my pretty face with those nails.” Now that I have a better look at them, I’m not at all surprised to see that they’re sharp enough to serve as weapons in their own right. She’s not going to be ripping out any throats, but she could probably take an eye or two.
Aphrodite flips a switch so fast it makes my head spin, all her fury tucked away between one heartbeat and the next. She goes soft against me, her smile still cold as ice. “You’re not pretty, Hephaestus. You never know; a few scars might be an improvement. They’ve certainly served the Minotaur well.”
“Pass.” My wires are getting crossed by this interaction. She came in like an attack, but now she’s pressed against me like a lover, her breasts nearly spilling out of her dress. Our faces are even, close enough to kiss. I don’t like how fast she changed things up on me. I don’t trust it. “Back off.”
“Why, Husband? We’ll be consummating this marriage shortly. We could get started now.”
Just like that, I get it. The anger was the slip, not this weird sexual tension that flares between us like poison. I lower her arm and pin it to the small of her back, pressing us closer yet. It’s a fight to keep my body from responding to her. I’m only human, and Aphrodite might be a snake, but she’s a gorgeous one.
She’s also just confirmed exactly what I suspected…and handed me the ultimate weapon in the process.
I lean down a little to speak directly into her ear. “Did your little boyfriend pay you a visit, Wife?”
She tenses for half a beat and then relaxes. A quick recovery, but we’re pressed too tightly together for me to miss it. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.” Being this close is a mistake, but I like that she can’t lie effectively like this. It makes me want to press my advantage. “Did he offer to save you? To take you away from big, bad me?”
Again, a quick tensing following by a forced relaxation. Aphrodite releases a slow breath. “Adonis was a fun little fling who let his emotions get the best of him. He doesn’t matter.”
I laugh. “Cute story. I saw the way you looked at him at the house party. Seems like love.” If I have to be in this marriage—and I do—then I fully intend to make Aphrodite pay for cornering me in the first place. Political machinations may have forced me into this, but I’m determined to end up on top. No matter how formidable she is, she’s got one glaring weak spot.
And I fully intend to exploit him.
* * *
APHRODITE
The reception stretches on for an eternity. Even though I carefully hide what I’m feeling, I can’t stop the sinking in my stomach. I played right into my new husband’s hands. A mistake, and one that will be costly. I can’t afford to underestimate Hephaestus, and reacting to Adonis unexpectedly showing up before my wedding to the enemy? I might as well have waved a red flag in front of a bull. My husband will be charging in no time. I wish I could trust Adonis to avoid that pitfall, but emotions make everything messy and I hurt him badly by making this move.
He’s not the only one.
All through the speeches and cake cutting and first dance, Hephaestus keeps that satisfied smirk in place. It makes me want to…
I manage to extract myself and part ways with my husband to grab a glass of champagne off a waiter’s tray. Now’s the time to follow him back to our seats at the center of the bridal party table, but I need a moment, so I drift over to the doorway leading back outside. The air has cooled with the sun setting, giving the first hint of the bite winter will bring.
I close my eyes and inhale deeply. The desire to strike back at Hephaestus after that little altercation is nearly overwhelming, but I haven’t made it to where I am now by acting impulsively. Mostly.
Right now, the only thing that matters is getting through the rest of the reception and then managing to resist the impulse to make myself a widow on my wedding night. Hephaestus is an enemy, but he’s a known one. If Minos thinks he’s getting his way, he will let his guard down. Hopefully.
Worrying about Minos and his plans can wait for tomorrow.
Even knowing that is the smartest course of action, I can’t help searching the faces of the guests gathered in the ballroom. Adonis isn’t here—I know he isn’t—but that doesn’t stop me from looking despite myself.
He won’t have left Olympus; not without me. His life is here. His family and fortune and a whole city’s worth of admirers. He has a way of drawing people to him wherever he goes, his charm and beauty making him the darling of MuseWatch and a good portion of the legacy families. Not enough to help him secure one of the titles of the Thirteen for himself, but Adonis lives a charmed life.
None of that really excuses what I’ve done.
Or the fact that I didn’t talk to him about it first.
I smother the guilt trying to take root in my chest. Adonis knew what he was getting when we started this ill-fated on-again, off-again relationship several years ago. I was a Kasios before I became Aphrodite.
I drain my champagne glass and tuck all the messy emotions away. It doesn’t matter what could have been because this is my reality. I will not give my new husband and his family even an ounce of satisfaction from thinking that I’m heartbroken.
Being heartbroken would require me to have a heart.
I make my way toward the table with the wedding party. It’s slow going because everyone wants to stop the bride and wish me congratulations or use thirty seconds of their time to try to weasel closer to the power Aphrodite holds. My title’s responsibilities include making marriage matches, and arranged marriages are one of Olympus’s favorite ways to consolidate power.