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“My hope is it feels less like a hospital and more like…a place where people can really heal,” he said. He frowned at himself because he wasn’t sure if those were exactly the right words, but it was important to him that when they were ready to receive patients, it wasn’t a place that felt sterile and inflexible. He associated those things with judgment, not acceptance or even hope.

“It will be everything it needs to be, Hades,” Persephone said, and her assurance eased the anxiety he’d started to feel over the whole thing. He felt a little ridiculous, but he was personally invested in the success of this project. It had been inspired by her, and for some reason, if it was not everything he intended, he would feel like he failed.

He was getting used to that feeling, and he didn’t like it.

He took her upstairs, which were just hollow wood that creaked beneath their feet, bringing her into a large room that had floor-to-ceiling windows making up most of the walls, just like his office in Alexandria Tower. The purpose was to give her a view of the gardens—specifically Lexa’s garden—but it also overlooked the woods surrounding the property and New Athens’s dreary and misty skyline.

He hung back near the entrance and watched her cross the room to stare out at the landscape. She took a breath, as if it brought her peace.

“What room is this?”

“Your office,” he said.

She whirled to face him.

“Mine? But I—”

“I have an office at every business I own. Why shouldn’t you?” he said, his lips curling. “And even if you do not work here often, we’ll put it to use.”

She laughed and her eyes were so bright, they burned in this muted weather. She looked beautiful, and for a moment, all he could think about was how he was grateful she could continue to look at him like this—like she loved him no matter what would come. And more would come. In some ways, this felt silly—the planning, knowing that Theseus had killed the ophiotaurus, knowing that Zeus had yet to approve their marriage, that Demeter’s storm still raged.

And yet he still hoped.

She shivered and brought her arms over her chest to try and contain it. He hadn’t noticed the cold.

“We should return,” he said.

Except she didn’t move, and he didn’t call his magic.

Persephone licked her lips, and his eyes fell there as she whispered his name.

He was on her the next second, and as he kissed her, he pressed her into the unfinished wall, his hips grinding into hers. He was highly aware that he was insatiable, his desire for her never-ending. His need for sex went beyond anything that was normal, and he used it for everything—to avoid, to process, to heal—but Persephone was no different.

“I need you,” he groaned as his mouth left hers to trail down the column of her neck, his hands smoothing down her back to her ass. Persephone was already fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, and for a moment, he considered stripping them both with his magic, but there was something alluring about being undressed by her, and he wanted that today.

Hades had a second of warning before he smelled laurel, and then Apollo appeared and snapped at them.

“Stop that!”

“Go away, Apollo,” Hades barked.

He was not in the mood to be interrupted or to have Persephone pulled away from him because of their ridiculous bargain.

“Hades,” Persephone said, a note of reprimand in her voice.

She was far more modest than him and was never inclined to continue what they’d started with an audience. Hades, while possessive, had no shame. He could fuck her in a crowded room—that was what illusion was for.

“No can do, Lord of the Underworld,” Apollo said. “We have an event.”

Hades pulled away with a frustrated sigh.

“What do you mean we have an event?” Persephone asked. Hades wanted to know the same.

“Today’s the first of the Panhellenic Games,” Apollo said.

Hades had definitely forgotten that, though to be fair, he had been very distracted and not at all with anything pleasant.

“That isn’t until tonight,” she said.