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Six Months Later

There are certain disadvantages to honeymooning in Greece with an actual Greek god.

For one thing, he knows absolutely everyone.

For another, he’s incapable of keeping his mouth shut when someone gets their mythology wrong.

And apparently, threatening to destroy a historical landmark is frowned upon by the Greek tourism board.

“Did you hear what that man just said?”

I grab Morpheus’s arm before he can storm back toward our tour guide.

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“He called me a minor deity.”

I press my lips together.

“Technically, he said Morpheus was a lesser-known god.”

“A minor deity, Calla.”

“Well, you haven’t exactly been active on social media.”

His eyes narrow.

“I ruled the dreams of entire civilizations.”

“Very impressive.”

“Kings begged for my favor.”

“Naturally.”

“Empires rose and fell beneath my influence.”

“And yet you still can’t figure out how to work the dishwasher.”

He stops walking.

I burst out laughing.

“That infernal machine is poorly designed.”

“Of course it is.”

“And this entire tour is an insult to divine history.”

We’re standing among the sun-bleached ruins of an ancient temple overlooking the Aegean Sea. Olive trees sway in the breeze, tourists snap photographs, and my enormous husband looks ready to declare war on a man wearing khaki shorts and a name tag.

It’s adorable.

And mildly terrifying.

“The guide also claimed Apollo was the most handsome god,” Morpheus mutters.

I grin.