Page 121 of The Gods Forbid

“Persy doesn’t bake,” Lukas answered.

“Huh?” Dominic gasped, looking so confused I had to hide a laugh if I had any care for my life.

“No, and shut up,” Adrian snapped, and this time, I saw a spark shoot from his hand.

“You knew?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest. Persy told me she had everyone fooled.

“She’s my fucking sister,” Adrian shot back. “I grew up with her and she knows fuck all about cooking.”

“She’s perfectly capable in the kitchen.” The words were out with surprising speed and force.

“See!” Lukas said, coming off the counter with the force of the word. “That right there. What the fuck is that?”

That was a rather unhealthy obsession with the little sister of the god I tried to kill and the most wonderful, kind person who had ever crossed my path.

Before I could respond, Dominic decided to chime in. “You’re all … protective. It’s weird. It’s like you have a soul or something.”

I flipped him off, choosing to let that speak for itself. It was really rich being confronted about protectiveness by three people—four, now that Nikolas had gotten with Kostas—who would try to fight the wind if it blew on their partners the wrong way.

While Dominic cursed at me under his breath, I turned to Adrian instinctively. I cared about earning his respect. “Do you have something to ask me?”

Adrian studied me, crossing his arms over his chest. After a moment, he said, “You told me that you had no intention of harming Persy. Is that still true?”

I’d sooner cut off my own arm than harm a single hair on her head, but I chose to answer simply. “Yes.”

Adrian nodded, seemingly satisfied.

“Really?” Nikolas said, his voice exacerbated. “You’re just going to leave it at that?”

“Yes,” Adrian responded. Oh, he definitely knew something I didn’t. A stupidly hopeful part of me wanted to believe that Persy had said something to him.

In my darkest moments, I imagined she felt the same. That she felt half of the anguish that constantly lived in my chest at the mere sight of her.

Instead of focusing on that, and there was a large part of me that wanted to, I spoke. “Anything else you need while you’re here? Want to take a look around my room and further invade my privacy?”

Lukas snorted, then tried to hide it. Poorly, I might add. But it was Adrian who spoke. “I heard that your cousin said something concerning.”

I was so focused on the other events of that day, I almost forgot what he was talking about. “Yes. She mentioned my aunt.”

Adrian nodded, considering. “I think you need to do something bigger. We never talked about whether you were still doing the Apollo honoring.”

Every god had one. A day to honor their contribution to the world, a holiday of sorts, with each god commanding a certain month of the year. Apollo happened to be June. Fitting, as that month contained the day with the most sunlight of the year.

For the past five years, I’d thrown a party that was commonly considered to be the most exclusive invite of the year. I had little desire this year. “Is this you asking me to do it?”

The small bit of guilt that entered Adrian’s expression told me everything I needed to know. I ran both hands down my face, already frustrated by the contents of this conversation, let alone the prospect of going to a schmooze-fest in my honor.

Right as I was going to answer, Nikolas decided to add, “I’m sure Persy would go.”

Unfortunately, that statement was poorly timed with my hands leaving my face, creating the perfect moment where I failed to hide my answering expression on time.

I didn’t have to look in the mirror to know that my expression had turned pleasant, hopeful even.

Adrian pushed away from the counter, lunging toward me before I could stop him. I backed away, hands in the air. “I thought you didn’t want to punch me.”

“I never said that,” he snapped, looking incredibly close to ending my life, a fact which seemed all the more likely when Dominic and Lukas started laughing.

I raised my hands further, trying to stave off an even greater reaction. “I’ll do it. I’ll plan the fucking party.” What I really meant was I was going to ask Jason Dionysus to do it, letting him plan until his god-of-wine’s heart was content, and would simply provide the funds and show up. “If only to put the nail in this coffin once and for all. I’m done having my family keep this going when I could care less.”