Page 8 of For the Love of the Gods

“I do.”

Adrian dipped his chin once in agreement. “See you at seven then, brother.”

I scoffed, my eyebrows lifting towards my hairline in doubt. “You’re coming?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Adrian said, sounding all too pleased with himself. “You owe me a hundred gold pieces if she tries to strangle you.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that bet,” I grumbled.

“Funny, I did,” Adrian reached the door and turned back one more time. “One thousand if she tries to stab you.”

It was a bet Ineverwould have agreed to, because he was going to win. Rose and I had never come to blows, not even close, but words as cutting as the sharpest Stygian steel were commonplace between us. Every time we—against our will—interacted, voices were raised and curses slung at the other within minutes.

We’d probably frighten the priest into an early grave with the content of our arguing tonight. At theweddingfor fuck’s sake.

Feeling restless and more than a little annoyed, I pushed back from my chair and walked to the large windows behind my desk.

They allowed me a clear view of Purgatory, our one and only established town. It had become a force over the years, reluctantly shared by both houses and serving as a middle ground between the Upperworld and the true death of the Underworld.

Stones, spices, plants, anything that came from Purgatory was a precious commodity, creating a rather healthy economy and marketplace that sustained the humans who chose to enter into business here. It was a careful balance of magic. Stay too long and your life source would start to fade, take a step an inch too far from the city limits and your soul would never leave.

Beyond the town’s structure, the Underworld expanded infinitely on both sides, the fields that held souls stretching out beyond conception and Tartarus’s sucking black cloud looming in the distance. As it currently stood, you could see two separate tributaries, one Roman and one Greek, leading into the Styx.

Tonight, they would merge into one without any conscious show of my power. It was my life source that controlled such fundamental aspects of this power, and Fates knew what the actual mechanics were.

What I did know was that in a matter of hours I would be married, forever bound to Rose Hades—Pluto, soon enough—and destined to a life with her under my thumb.

Chapter 4

Rose

As I left the Fates lair, I stepped through a portal right into my kitchen instead of my bedroom. I had neglected breakfast or tea in my hurry to see if Dominic’s insane plan was real, and the information I’d just been handed only made the jittery feeling in my stomach worse.

I appeared in my kitchen right in front of the stove and Max nearly fell off their stool in shock.

“Eight years working for you and I still am not used to that,” they said as they collected themselves. Max was my oldest personal guard and a close friend. They had the kind of softness in their demeanor that was inescapable—their gray eyes, their gentle posture, the way they carried themselves all radiated kindness. I used to think they stuck around out of pity, but that feeling had been replaced after realizing they were just genuinely loyal.

“You hungry?” I asked, turning towards my pantry to start gathering materials for breakfast. I needed to calm myself down and cooking was the easiest way to do so.

“Always. Marcus stepped out to run a perimeter check, but he’ll be back soon.”

At that, I reached up and grabbed another bag of oats. Both Max and Marcus could take down food like it was their job and were constantly offering to take pay cuts in favor of a meal.

I started to prep the materials, making it about halfway through slicing an apple when I realized Max’s traditionally chatty self was being abnormally quiet.

I set my knife down on the cutting board and turned to find their body hunched over the onyx marble counter, their chin resting in their hand and an expression of pure curiosity on their face.

“Yes?” I prompted, even though I knew what this was about.

“Where did you go this morning?”

I sighed and turned back around, picking up my knife to continue. If I didn’t occupy the blade while I told the story it might end up embedded in the wall. It took me ten minutes to break down last night’s little visit and this morning’s developments, and at the end of it my hands were shaking as I finished stirring the oats in the pot.

Just as I finished, Marcus bounded back into the kitchen, catching the tail end of me saying, “So, I assume Dominic will have no problems with me keeping the palace.”

Marcus made eye contact with Max for a moment, and then turned to me, telepathically caught up on the conversation. They were siblings and their family was connected to a godly line no one could quite place, but telepathy was a common trait amongst their whole family.

“Ah, so that explains why Dominic was here last night,” Marcus said, dropping into the stool next to his sibling and making grabby hands at me. I placed a steaming bowl of oatmeal into his waiting hands and handed one to Max before responding.

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