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And then they too left us alone.

I let out a deep breath, feeling a rush of relief at how well that went. Not that I expected Adrian’s friends to be anything but kind—especially with Daphne in the mix, but for all I knew it could have felt more like an interrogation than a discussion.

I turned to him with a smile on my face, then had to blink when an errant ray of sun broke through the clouds and hit me straight in the eye. “That went well, right?”

Adrian’s shoulders were visibly tense. I waited for him to speak, and it took several moments before he breathed out one long, tired exhale. “If I was a better man, I’d end this right now.”

The words shocked me to my core. “What?”

“I might not be able to protect you.” The words were thin, like glass that could break under the slightestpressure.

“Adrian, I’ll be okay,” I said, unsure if his concern was coming from a place of duty or genuine care. He was noble and moral—that much was clear.

“You can’t promise me that,” he said harshly, making me take an instinctive step back. He cursed low under this breath, then noticeably softened his tone. “Honey, if this ends and the news catches wind, it will only make it worse. But if you’re caught in the crossfire…”

“Hey,” I cut in, reaching out for him. Thankfully, my hand didn’t fall into dead space. He caught it, running his thumb over the back of my hand. “Don’t forget that I’m getting something from this too. You’re stuck with me until my father is willing to sign over his entire empire just to break us up.”

“Thank the Fates for that,” Adrian said on a low breath. Then there was a crisp knock at the door that had Adrian moving his hand up to stroke down my arm. “I have to prepare for Council,” he said, like it was the most inconvenient thing in the world.

“When am I going to see you again?” I asked, then internally kicked myself for it.

Another knock, this time more insistent.

Adrian cursed again. “If I had it my way,” he began, then cut himself off and started again. “As soon as I can.”

“Alright,” I said through a practiced, even sterile, smile. One fit for the nature of our arrangement. Then I stepped out of his hold and went to answer the door myself, if only to get away from him.

“Wait,” Adrian said, catching my hand and forcing me to turn back to face him. He wrapped something around my wrist, securing it. Once his hand pulledback, I came face to face with the most beautiful bracelet I’d ever seen, a thin, gold chain with small opals nestled into the links. “If you need me, press one of the stones. It’ll bring you to me.”

“To Olympus or to you?” I asked, still looking at the bracelet to hide the blush on my cheeks.

“To me,” Adrian said, the words falling on the top of my head. “Right to me.”

And with that, he let me go.

Chapter 10

Adrian

When I was younger, and my parents were preparing me to take over from their joint rule, cementing the combination of the Roman and Greek lines, they had always stressed that I needed to be a steady leader.

An anchor that could help the rest of the gods weather the inevitable storms that would plague us during our rule.

I’d done as good a job as any—at the steady part.

But they’d never told me what to do whenIwas the cause of the storm.

Literally and figuratively.

The storm outside—oddly strong for November, was only half of it. There were attacks and poisonings and vocal discontent with the gods. With me.

Smoothing my hand down my suit and wrapping my fist tightly around my power, I breathed in deep, holding for a second, then letting it out. A habit I’d watched my mother do for years when I trailed her and my father into the Council room and sat in the corner,watching them lead and trying to take notes.

With a nod at Emre, he opened the side door that led directly from my quarters into the meeting area. I could already hear the voices and the chatter. And after two steps, I was hit with an onslaught of different powers, each of the lines colliding into me.

My steps stayed steady, used to the feeling. My father had explained to me that it was a consequence—or a gift, as he’d say—of being the king of the gods. We were tuned in to the unique thread of each god’s power. He’d always described it as being able to hear it.

For me, I could almost see it. The soft green of Mia Ceres’s power, muted like the olive trees her power fueled. The brilliant white gold of Sebastian Apollo’s, the only thing I’d seen in nature similar to it was my sister’s hair. The deep, red of Jason Dionysus’s—the exact color of his very best wine.