Page 53 of Wildfire

It was not the kind of odds she liked, but with Cronus also on the loose, they didn’t have the luxury of focusing every resource on Typhon. They couldn’t focus on him, but they also couldn’t afford to lose to him.

They were at a disadvantage.

She would not admit this to anyone aloud, but no matter how many times she ran the probabilities in her head, how she planned and strategized, or which game piece she put in which spot on the board...

There was a very good chance that they were going to lose this war.

Athena did not like being on the losing side, but siding with Cronus was not an option. She needed humanity. Lived for them; for their learning and growth. Maybe even loved them, if she were capable of such a thing. Cronus would destroy them on a whim.

And if Athena were going to defeat the very first challenge of the coming war, she knew it would be by judicious use of a single piece on her game board.

She ran a thumb along the flat tab on the file folder in front of her, thoughtfully.

Wilder Pratt.

It was time to discuss the future with Wilder. His future, and just how much of one he wanted. Maybe Hermes’s presence would help with that conversation. Maybe it would be irrelevant.

Either way, her brother could not be allowed to get in the way of defeating Typhon.

Lick the Spoon

Baking boxed brownies with Wilder was the most fun Hermes had had in a century. Maybe longer.

It was simple and sweet, and he got to lick the bowl while the whole kitchen filled with the smell of molten chocolate and they talked about Wilder’s favorite restaurants and if he frequented Hysteria. Hermes had never seen him there before and—insert eyelash flutter here—he definitely would have remembered him.

Wilder had scoffed, but he hadn’t argued. He’d simply pulled the brownies out of the oven and set them on the stovetop to cool.

Which, of course, Hermes couldn’t allow. Impatient as ever, he cut into them when they were still warm, the edges sticking to either side of his knife. Wilder set a glass of milk in front of him when Hermes settled on a stool and pulled the brownies toward him. He cocked a brow at the milk.

“So you don’t choke,” Wilder said dryly.

Hermes smirked. “Not gonna need it, but okay.”

It turned out that warm brownies were better with a cool glass of milk. But neither one distracted him from Wilder’s deep blue eyes, intently focused on him while he ate.

Hehadworried about Hermes while he was panting and sweating out toxins, but this was more than that. They had basically admitted to havingfeelings, and the only solution now was to diffuse that entirely.

Okay, perhaps there was one other solution—find some way to affirm them. Hermes only knew one way to do that, and right then, he wanted to be close to Wilder more than he wanted any chocolatey baked goodness.

Frowning down at the pan in front of him, he used the small knife to wedge out a warm brownie. He picked it up, slipped off his stool, and approached Wilder, who was leaning against the far counter.

“What are you doing?” Wilder cocked his brow at him, but his arms uncrossed, instinctively opening for Hermes to slide in and press against his front.

“If you don’t get one now, you might not get it at all,” Hermes warned.

“That’s fi—”

With one fingertip pressed to the man’s lips, Hermes quieted him. There weren’t many mortals as beautiful as Wilder Pratt, with his thick golden hair, the strong lines of his jaw and sharp cheekbones, his imperious glare. More beautiful than all that, though, was the way the firm set of his lips softened when he looked down at Hermes. All that irritation eased.

“I’d prefer if you taste sweet when I kiss you,” Hermes said.

Wilder opened for him, and rather than simply take the brownie and be done, he licked and sucked the tips of Hermes’s thumb and forefinger between his soft lips.

A shiver ran up Hermes’s spine. “Bedroom,” he rasped.

If he’d felt like himself, he’d have slung Wilder over his shoulder and whisked him to bed, even though the man towered a whole head over him. But he didn’t trust himself with strength or speed, so he pushed Wilder ahead of him toward the back of the townhouse and up to his bedroom.

“Are you sure you’re up to this?” Wilder asked once they crossed the threshold into the dark room.

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