Page 75 of The Gods Forbid

It was true, though. Penn looked like a dog about to get a treat. I dragged my hands down my face, walking over to Penn. Settling in and widening my stance so I dropped more to Penn’s height, I started giving him instructions as best I could.

It was like trying to explain how to speak Ancient Greek to someone who hadn’t learned it since birth like I had, but I attempted it anyway. Penn followed along well, either stopping to ask questions or easily fixing something when he used too heavy of a hand or mixed the wrong color.

I stayed in a constant state of impressed the entire hour or so Penn worked, able to get a good base layer down. Oil took far more patience, but Penn seemed to be adapting well.

It was … pleasant, I guessed. Kostas and Nikolas hung around. I learned that Penn and Kostas were quite good friends, which I was pretty sure added to Penn’s overall comfortability. That was good.

Nikolas did a piss poor job of trying to subtly flirt, making it extremely obvious that he was half in love with Kostas already. It was deeply unfortunate to discover that I was happy for him. That I even appreciated the company of an old friend. It had been a long, long time since that had been the case.

It set me so far off-kilter that I’d started acting without thinking. Normally, every response, every word was carefully crafted to find that precious balance between making people think you were connecting with them, but ultimately keeping them at an arms length.

So much so, I’d somehow gotten myself roped into meeting with Penn twice a week. It was of no consequence that I’d offered. I could at least tell myself it was to give myself something to do instead of raiding Persy’s library when she stopped torturing me for a second.

It was that bout of insanity that also made me walk back home to Persy, and have to say, “I invited Kostas and Nikolas over for dinner next week,” right as I walked in the door. Persy smiled, the sight making the air feel thin. “I’ll cook.”

Chapter 15

Persy

I blinked and a month went by.

Time was slipping through my fingers like water, completely unable to stop it no matter what I did. The fact that it felt like that at all was a problem.

I should have been ecstatic. A lot had changed in a month.

Andrew had caved, walking away with a sizable chunk of money to do what he wanted with after he proved that he was spreading the word to Sebastian’s remaining family that this was over.

Sebastian had stopped freezing up when Penelope was brought up, and seemed marginally more inclined to reinstate heirs. The last time we’d talked about it, he’d said “I’m figuring out who is worthy,” with a handsome grin on his face instead of his usual, “Not happening.”

Two huge accomplishments based on the tasks I’d been assigned—cut off loose ends and bring back his heirs.

The problem was that I didn’t quite care about that. I was far more focused on the fact that Sebastian had privately upped his sessions with Calpurnia to twice a week. One time, he’d returned looking like he’d just been assaulted by pollen, his eyes were so red.

Or the fact that he spent long stretches of time with Penn, and that he was happier than I’d ever seen him since he arrived at Prometheus, finally finding something to help settle his mind.

Or that Nikolas and Kostas had come over for dinner twice. That there were days when I’d have no idea where Sebastian went for hours at a time, only to learn that he’d been doing something with Nikolas. A few days, Daphne had even joined in, stopping by my office or whatever part of Prometheus I was in to invite me to take a moment in the gardens or the marketplace with them.

I still didn’t think it was a very good idea to involve my brother at this stage. It seemed too raw.

And all that wasn’t even including how we were—well, we still spent a lot of time alone together. We’d made it through three books. We had dinner together every night. Breakfast most days, if he made it back from his morning session in the studio in time to catch me before I left for the day.

The problem was, I hadn’t realized how much time had slipped away until I’d made a passing comment to Nikolas about having five months left. He had to correct me that there were four, damn near three months left before Sebastian went back out into the world and left me—and I continued on here.

I still had so much left I wanted to do with him. There were so many aspects of his power that he needed to reconnect with, which was why I was standing in front of one of Apollo’s largest hospitals with a grumbling Sebastian in tow.

He squinted into the sunlight, dramatically covering his eyes with his hands. “It’s too fucking bright.”

“Oh, come on,” I said, tone light. “You love it. The sun already set in Prometheus.”

It was early afternoon, the time the sun should have been gone and away in my little corner of the world. I actually hadn’t noticed a sunset when we’d left, but I’d also dedicated most of my energy into trying not to shiver when his hand had settled over my lower back when we’d stepped through a portal.

Ever since that day with his uncle—who I had developed quite the visceral dislike for—where I’d accidentally grabbed his hand, we’d crossed the line into small touches. Nothing more than our hands brushing on the same thing or a tap on the shoulder or a hand on my back, but each one burned.

Fuck, did they burn.

I’d also internally started swearing, which was not a habit I engaged in often. I didn’t like the way it felt to say those words, often hard and crass on the tongue. I was learning there were certain situations where it was necessary to set aside that conviction.

Including, but not limited to now, when someone in a rush got a little too close on the street outside the hospital and Sebastian placed his hand on the base of my neck to help steady me.