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I stare at her.

“Are you even listening?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Calla.”

“Morpheus.”

“This is not a game.”

“Then stop treating me like a chess piece.”

I drag a hand through my hair.

Hades help me.

I’ve commanded kings, conquered nightmares, and brought armies to their knees with a single whispered threat.

But this woman?

This maddening, beautiful, stubborn little mortal?

She refuses to obey the simplest instruction.

Leave.

Run.

Save yourself.

Instead, she stands barefoot, looking entirely too delectable for a woman currently testing the limits of my immortal patience.

“You must go somewhere my father cannot find you,” I tell her.

She raises an eyebrow.

“Like where? Target?”

I narrow my eyes.

“Do not mock me.”

“Then stop being ridiculous.”

“Calla.”

“Morpheus.”

I close my eyes.

Count to ten.

It does not help.

“I’m attempting to protect you.”

“And I’m attempting to eat breakfast.”