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It was a harsher version of the truth. But with my heart still racing from his touch and my fingertips still buzzing with the memories of the words that made me leave, I couldn't bring myself to clarify.

Lukas narrowed his eyes, staring so deep into mine I wanted to squirm from the force of it. Damn him, he knew I was keeping something hidden. “You were right, Daphne. Prying answers out of your head might get bloody.” His hand descended to mine, lifting it and threading it through the space between his arm and chest and up to rest on his bicep. “But we have to get through tonight first.”

I wasn’t prepared to feel him. Not under his suit, not at all. My hand flexed on his arm, my fingertips begging to dig into his skin. His jaw flexed again, but he stayed silent.

I forced myself to meet his eyes as I asked, “What's our answer for when the wedding is?”

It was a diversion, but there was no way in hell I was addressing how nervous his words had made me. And not in a dreadful, panicked way, but in the excited, anticipated way.

Workshopping answers to questions was an old game between us, but the nostalgic pain seemed easier to stomach.

The corner of Lukas’s mouth turned up ever so slightly before he forced it back down, anger still winning. “Two months. Enough time to settle back in. Get your mother’s input.”

Thatwas not something I’d enjoy. “Two months, then.”

Lukas nodded once, his chin dropping. Then he plastered his arm to his side, dragging me into his side and trapping my arm in the heat of his body. A wave of dizziness took over, breaking when Lukas asked, “You ready?”

“Always,” I said.

“After you.”

“Together,” I corrected. Physically, we had no choice, we were linked together. But the words carried a second meaning.

Lukas’s throat bobbed, but he stayed silent. Even if his eyes were clouding with something dark.

I could feel my mouth dropping open, but Zale cleared his throat from behind us before I could say something. I hadn’t even noticed his presence. My mind hadn’t loosened its grip on Lukas the entire walk to the ballroom.

“Time to go,” he ushered, jumping around us to grip the door handle. When he finally pushed it open and Lukas and I stepped through, the room erupted with a boom of silence.

Everyone, gods, humans, and otherwise, turned toward us. Questions and curiosity poured through the room like thick syrup. I tightened my grip on Lukas’s arm involuntarily, preparing to wade through it all.

≈

I had absolutely nothing to worry about.

Becausethis, this was what we were good at. This was where we thrived and convinced everyone that our pairing wasn’t only smart, it was necessary.

There was something alluring about two gods coming together to lead a court the way we did.

Lukas was the perfect soldier turned reluctant but steady leader, his rough beauty and raw power demanding respect at every corner. And me, the cast aside goddess, who against all odds seemed to thrive in the sea.

Lukas and I hadn’t a second to breathe, a loose queue forming around where we were standing. Everyone taking their turn to greet us and absolutely pepper us with questions, direct or otherwise.

“We missed you this past year,” Ari, one of Lukas’s father’s old friends, commented.

I smiled easily even though I felt my hand tighten on Lukas’s arm and his bicep harden in response. “There was so much to finalize with my research before I made the transition to this court. I hoped to make it back, especially to see your son off to university, but unfortunately, work got in the way.”

It was exactly the story Lukas told and combined with the flattery, dispelled most of the doubt swimming in his eyes. But I wasn’t one to be comfortable with half-successes. Right as he opened his mouth to speak again, I perked up like I’d just been blessed with an idea.

“I saw you expanded your business,” I said. “All is going well ,I hope?”

At the excited look in his weathered eyes, I knew I had him. All doubt squashed under the boot of carefully maneuvering.

About every third person asked, “When is the wedding?” Lukas and I took turns answering, the same court-ready smile plastered on both our faces.

“Two months from now,” we answered. Some, mostly the humans who’d journeyed from land, were satisfied at that answer. Only curious to keep an eye out for that invitation.

“We wanted to wait until everything was ready for the transition,” I’d explained when others asked why we’d pushed it back in the first place.We had to, because I’d run off and made myself unreachablewasn’t an acceptable answer.