Page 25 of For the Gods' Sake

“I may get a break for once,” he said, taking a long draw from a glass of red wine. “You two are stealing the show.”

There was a forced undercurrent to his tone, one I couldn’t quite put my finger on. “Unintentionally, I promise.” It wasn’t a lie. We were putting on a show, sure. But stealing the spotlight from Apollo was certainly not a priority.

“I’d hope so,” Sebastian said slowly, raising his brows at me. There was something overtly observant in his stare, like a curator inspecting a new piece of art.

Adrian’s hand returned to my lower back, sending a dull pulse of electricity up my spine. “Who else is here?”

Half of the Mediterranean’s powerful players, I thought to myself.

But Sebastian answered, “Corinna and Sabina. I think I saw Gus running around and chasing a skirt, too.”

It took me a second to process who he was talking about. I guess it was natural for them, to discuss the goddesses of love and wisdom and the messenger of thegods, known to me as Lady Aphrodite, Lady Minerva, and Lord Mercury, like they were friends.

Daphne had told me stories that proved that fact, but it was different seeing it up close. Different when you were a part of it.

Sebastian turned his observant stare back to me. “Watch yourself around Corinna. She gets a little woozy around people in the early throes of passion.”

I looked to Adrian with pinched brows to find him already looking at me. “When she is around couples,” he explained, “She can feel the love they share. It can be a little overwhelming for her when it’s quite intense.”

So we’d be avoiding her, then. She’d see right through us. But for Sebastian’s sake, I said, “Well, we’ll be sure to talk to her while sitting. We wouldn’t want her to faint.”

Sebastian released a low, melodic laugh. “No, we wouldn’t.” He tossed back the rest of his wine, swapping it with another almost immediately. “Well, I’m off to make the rounds. Try to stay safe before dinner starts. Wouldn’t want your fans to trample you.”

And then he was off, weaving back through the crowd while sipping his wine and completely ignoring the gawking stares as he passed.

Adrian swiped his hand over my back, almost in comfort. “You alright?”

“What?”

He turned to face me fully, hiding the stares of the crowd behind his broad shoulders. “Are you alright?” he repeated.

I was, mostly. If you didn’t count the mental gymnastics I was doing to keep the touches and his presence and proximity firmly in thefakebox. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Adrian shook his head slightly. “You’re being quite convincing. And weathering Sebastian is not for the weak.”

“Really? You seemed like friends.”

Adrian ran his tongue over his teeth, which only served to make his jaw look even sharper. “Most of the time. But he has a bit of a habit of getting drunk and saying shit that’s borderline offensive.”

I hummed over a sip of wine. I’d been around Sebastian a lot, the work I did with charities often overlapping with the arts or hospitals—both under his purview. And I’d never known him to be anything other than the perfect picture of grace and confidence, if even a little proud.

I snuck a glance to the side, smiling at someone who was staring at us. They broke it with an apologetic wince.

At the reminder of what we were here for, I tilted my head back to meet Adrian’s eyes. “You’re being quite convincing yourself. Everyone seems to be properly spellbound. And Carlos is sure to go running to my father with the news.”

Adrian grinned and smoothed a hand down the lapel of his jacket, a reminder of the cold confidence of the god I’d gotten into bed with. “You’re making it easy.”

And before I could unpack the way those words, spoken low like a secret, made my stomach dip and flutter, Uma’s voice came cracking through the room, summoning us all for dinner.

Chapter 7

Reyna

By the time we sat down for dinner, my mind felt like a punching bag. Adrian and I hadn’t gotten a second of peace.

It took us a full thirty minutes to make our way into the dining area and to our seats—at the front of the room, at the table reserved for the guests of the highest honor.

To Uma’s credit, she’d either already placed us at the same table and simply had to change the seating arrangement or had completely altered her plans to place us next to each other.

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