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The girl, however, curled up against his shoulder and began to suck on her thumb. Eros glared at Hephaestus as he attempted to suppress a laugh. “Don’t think I’ll be babysitting for the two of you anytime soon.” Not wanting to even imagine having a baby brother or sister at his age—he was over twenty-thousand years old after all—he turned to the unknown woman beside him.

As he did with any woman he met, he looked her up and down. Shifter, his instincts told him. Having been around them all this time, he just knew, not to mention, there were very few humans allowed on pack territory. She was petite for a shifter, particularly one from Alaska, and at least a foot shorter than him, with wavy brown hair.

Cute, he supposed, especially with those freckles across her button nose and round cheeks. Large eyes—not quite brown, but not quite green either—stared up at him. He smiled at her. Usually, at this point, most women turned away or got all giggly and pink-cheeked. This one, however, continued to stare at him, assessing him.

An unknown feeling curled in his belly, and he didn’t like it. So, he said the first thing that came to his mind. “So, are you the new nanny? I’m no baby, but you can sit on me anytime.”

“Eros!” Aphrodite admonished. “Psyche is a guest of your Alpha.”

Psyche. What an interesting name.

“He’s only my Alpha because of this stupid punishment.” He licked his lips at her. “What did you do to get stuck out here, sweetcakes?”

“Did you know titanosaurs have no toes on their front feet?” she said in a flat and emotionless tone.

“Huh?” What the fuck?

“They evolved that way, no one knows why,” she continued. “They walk around on these stumps made of metacarpal bones.”

He blinked at her. “What are you talking about?” Were they even having the same conversation? On the same planet?

“Titanosaurs,” she said flatly. “They’re a type of dinosaur.”

“Psyche is getting her PhD in paleontology,” Cade piped in.

“Paleoichnology, to be exact,” Psyche said. “With a focus on paleoclimatology.”

Eros pursed his lips, frowning down at this unusual creature. Still, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her as he wondered if her eyes were green or brown. It was driving him crazy, not knowing, and he wanted to haul her face up to his so he could take a closer look.

“How interesting,” Aphrodite said.

Interesting ? Her work sounded boring. She probably spent hours and hours looking at old bones. There was only one bone he was interested in—his own.

Or maybe jumping hers.

“I think everyone’s waiting for you two to start the festivities,” Artemis said. “Right, H?”

“What does that mean?” Aphrodite lifted an eyebrow at him. “Hephaestus?”

“Look,” the god of forges and fires began. “I know we said we wouldn’t have a fancy program or formal reception. But there was something we didn’t do at our first wedding.”

“And what’s that?”

“Dance.”

As a slow song began to play over the speakers, Hephaestus led Aphrodite to the dance floor. Eros managed to force himself to look away from Psyche as he watched his parents. The heavy, warm weight of the gold pendant sparked an awareness in him, and he touched the face with his right forefinger. Hephaestus had given it to him after the golden apple ceremony that granted him his immortality. “You need a symbol to wear to our gatherings,” he had said. “So, I made it for you.”

Of course, Eros had never worn it because he didn’t attend those stuffy official Mount Olympus functions. They were long, boring, and nothing fun ever happened. Also, most of them were presided over by that arrogant prick Zeus, whom he had borne disdain for ever since he met him. So, he avoided going to those events as much as possible, and thus, never had a reason to wear the medallion.

He kept it, though, as he did everything Hephaestus ever made for or gave to him.

While the god of fire and forges gave Eros neither his flesh nor blood, he had given him something greater. He used to abhor his wings because they had come from the man he hated most in the entire world, Hephaestus had reforged that symbol to mean something new. And though his mother and Hephaestus had divorced right after the ceremony, he knew that Hephaestus would always be his father in all the ways that mattered.

Ignoring the tightening in his throat, he turned back to the petite woman beside him. “So, if you’re not the nanny, who are you?”

Artemis glared at him. “Psyche is the daughter of the Alpha of the Vancouver pack,” she said. “She’s working on her PhD, and her next dig site is nearby, in Denali National Park, so her father asked if she could stay with us while she waits for word of when she can start. She’s a guest here, and you will treat her as such.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m a guest here, too, and no one treats me special.”

“You’re not a guest,” Artemis said.

“Yeah, I’m a prisoner.”

“Prisoner?” Psyche echoed. “Are you being punished by your Alpha?” She leaned close to him, her nose nearly touching his chest. “You don’t smell like a shifter.”

Ignoring the way his heart jumped at how close she had gotten, he smirked at her. “I’m not.”

“Oh, how rude of me,” Artemis exclaimed. “I didn’t formally introduce you. Psyche, this is Eros, God of Love and Desire. Or at least he was. Or still is.” She scratched at her head. “Actually, I’m not quite sure.”

“It’s a long story.” And one he wasn’t interested in sharing, especially with a stranger, who wasn’t staying long anyway.

“You’re a god.” Her lips pursed together. “Like Artemis or Apollo.”

He gritted his teeth at the sound of that asshole’s name from her mouth. “Definitely not like Apollo. I’m in a league of my own, darling. Maybe you’d like to know exactly how I’m different?”

“Eros,” Artemis warned.

“Well, it’s pretty obvious you two are different. Apollo is the god of the sun, poetry, and arts,” she replied, “while your realm lies in the emotions of love and desire.”

“There’s more to it than just emotions, you know,” he purred. “I can show you if you want. A demonstration, maybe. A private one.”

“No, thank you.”

No? He frowned. Did she even know what she was saying no to?

She turned back to Artemis. “If you don’t mind, Artemis, I’d like to go back to my room and settle in.”

“Of course, go ahead.”

Without another word, Psyche turned on her heel and walked away.

“Eros,” Artemis began. “You better not be thinking what I think you’re thinking.”

He pushed away the outrage over Psyche’s rebuff. She was a nobody after all. She’d be gone in a few days. “I don’t know, Artemis, what am I thinking?”

“You know …”

“For fuck’s sake, Artemis, stop acting like a virgin goddess. Everyone within a mile can hear you when you scream Cade’s name when he’s fucking you?—”

“Shut up.” She actually blushed . “Just…don’t, okay?”

“Why not?”

“You don’t know her. And she’s also—” Her mouth clamped shut, as if she was about to say something she wasn’t supposed to. “You can have any woman you want—and you do anyway—but I’m begging you, stay away from this one.”

“Fine.” He supposed it wasn’t a big ask to stay away from one woman. “She’s not my type anyway.”

“Hey now, that’s not nice. While she’s not the usual model-type you go for?—”

“I don’t recall saying she wasn’t pretty,” he interrupted. “She’s just…” He couldn’t quite figure it out. “What do you want from me? You want me to stay away from her or be attracted to her? It can’t be both.”

She blew out a breath. “Just don’t hurt her, okay?”

“I do not hurt women.” While he knew Artemis didn’t mean it physically, the idea of such a thing provoked a visceral reaction through him. “I’m always clear with any woman I sleep with—sex only, nothing more. It’s not my fault they think they can change my mind. Anyway, this conversation is boring.” He handed the sleeping baby back to Artemis. “I’m gonna go grab a drink.”

He marched over to the bar and pushed his way to the front, ignoring the outraged reactions from the guests. “Double whiskey,” he barked at the bartender. As soon as he got his drink, he slinked toward the exit, but not without one last look at the dance floor. A few more couples had joined Aphrodite and Hephaestus, but from the way his parents stared into each others’ eyes, it was as if there was no one else around them.

For a moment, he allowed himself to think of his past—just the briefest touch on the memories that still lingered in his mind, of the days before Hephaestus had come into their lives, before washing them away with a generous gulp from his glass. As the liquid warmed a path down to his stomach, his resolve strengthened, and he was sure now more than ever that he had done the right thing, if only in that it brought Aphrodite and Hephaestus down the path that led to this day.