Page 7 of The Gods Forbid

Kostas had refused to let me tell them he’d baked the things I brought them, too scared of a god’s reaction to his work and nervous it would crumble his confidence. He asked me to pretend I made them, hoping my relationship with the gods would allow for honest feedback.

The only problem—he was simply incapable of making anything bad.

Which was why he was so distraught over Sebastian. He was still working through his innate desire to fix when something wasn’t going to plan. And he couldn’t wrap his head around a situation where Sebastian wouldn’t want to eat at all, only settling on the belief that his food was worse than starvation.

“Kostas,” I said softly. “I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but it’s not your food. He won’t eat at all. Your food is excellent.”

Kostas took in a deep breath, his lips trilling as the air passed. “I’m sorry—it’s just he of all people should have good taste.”

“Don’t apologize,” I responded quickly, coming over to rest my hands on his shoulders. “I understand.” Sebastian was the god of everything beautiful, it wasn’t a stretch that his opinion would matter more to him. “I’m going to talk to him tomorrow.”

Kostas’s eyes immediately went panicked, still a little uncomfortable voicing his anger. “No, no, I wouldn’t want you to say—don’t do anything on my account.”

I shook my head lightly. “He needs to eat, Kostas. I won’t mention you unless you want me to.”

His panic fled and after a few minutes, he felt calm enough to head to bed.

I, however, stayed up most of the night tossing and turning.

When the night ebbed slightly, a sign the rest of the world was entering dawn, I decided that was as good a time as any to pay Sebastian a visit.

He was awake when I turned the corner.

“Good morning,” I said, letting a smile rise to my face. Those two words only seemed to ignite a visceral rage in him. He looked at me like I’d come to deliver his last meal. Funny—seeing as he hadn’t voluntarily ate anything for over a week. “Would you mind coming to grab this?” I asked, nodding down at the coffee mug in my left hand. “I can’t open the door with both of these in my hands.”

Sebastian’s nostrils flared. “The only reason you are in that predicament is because you locked me in a fucking cage.”

I winced before I could stop it. “Well,” I said, resetting my shoulders. He’d made me angry. And committed treason, I had to remind myself. “Like we discussed, this situation was not my first choice. I’m sorry.”

Wow, he did not like when I apologized to him. He looked like he was about to lunge at me.

To distract from the little trickle of something that spread through my chest, I extended the coffee mug towards him. “Please. I’d like to talk to you.” When he opened his mouth, I cut him off. “I’d prefer it if you didn’t express how much that angers you right now. It’s a bit too early for that.”

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, openly examining me. But then he rose on surprisingly steady legs and walked over to me.

It only took him about three strides to—

Oh.

My thoughts were cut off when he reached the bars and I realized that this was the first time we’d stood close to each other. I knew he was taller than me, but I didn’t expect that I’d have to tip my head back that much.

I wasn’t used to people being this much taller than me, and it did something weird to my insides.

What was I supposed to be doing? Right, handing him the coffee.

His hand curled around the ceramic mug before I could move, reaching through the bars. His fingers brushed mine and I almost dropped the mug. He must have run his hands over the blanket before I’d come or something because there was a little shock that ran up my arm when he touched me.

If he felt it, he didn’t show it. He just looked down at the shiny gold mug dwarfed by his enormous hand like it offended him.

“Gold is my favorite color,” I offered as explanation. “I know it’s not technically a color, but I like anything metallic. Especially when it picks up the light and there’s a bit of a rainbow in the reflection. That way I don’t have to pick between the colors.”

Sebastian made an odd sound in the back of his throat, like he’d gone to scoff and then tried to cut himself off in the middle of it.

I left him staring down at the coffee in his hand while I unarmed the door. By the time I made it through, subtly rubbing the prick of blood between my fingers, he’d retreated to the other side of the room.

Fine. But he’d have to get used to the proximity soon or he’d be sleeping on the roof.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” I asked, nodding towards the foot of the bed. “The stool is rather uncomfortable.”