Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
I highly doubt the woman who maimed me would ever be described as biddable, but I’m not about to argue. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m not marrying Helen. I’m marrying Aphrodite. “I didn’t fail twice,” I snap.
I’m one of the Thirteen most powerful people in Olympus now, but since I killed the last Hephaestus and stepped into his place, there’s been nothing but strings tying me down. Can’t do this. Can’t do that. Have to marry her. In all this shit, no one mentioned that I’d lose all free will the moment I lost my name. I fucking hate it.
Minos draws himself up. He’s a big man, nearly as broad as me and an inch taller. He’s aged in the time we’ve been here, the lines deeper around his eyes and mouth. All my life, he’s been a godlike figure. He’s the one who rescued me from that orphanage, the one who taught me everything I know and carved me into the warrior I am today.
I might not agree with all his shit, but I owe him everything.
I start to drag my hand through my hair, but he catches my wrist. “You’ll muss yourself.”
“I could give a fuck.”
His mouth thins. “Appearances matter here, Hephaestus. That’s a lesson you need to learn, and fast.”
Hephaestus. Not Theseus. The only person who uses my real name anymore is Pandora, and I haven’t seen much of her in the last two weeks. My fiancée is holding her hostage in the wedding party, though Aphrodite would never be so plain as to say as much. “My name is Theseus.”
“Not anymore.” Minos looks me up and down. “You’re no use to me if you can’t do your job. We’re not done here in Olympus, not by a long shot, and I can’t waste time babysitting you. I have things to take care of.”
Things to take care of. Right. Not that he tells me much anymore. My name isn’t the only thing I lost when I became Hephaestus. The title put me on the other side of the line from Minos, or at least it feels that way. I can’t shake the feeling he doesn’t trust me now. “I got it,” I finally manage. “I won’t disappoint you.”
“I know you won’t, my boy. Not again.” He glances at his watch. “It’s time.”
A protest rises up my throat, but I swallow it back down. It’s too late to turn back. It was too late the moment we came to this fucking city. I follow Minos out into the hallway where my groomsmen are gathered. My foster brothers, the Minotaur and Icarus…and the two men I didn’t choose. Eros, a fucking fixer for Olympus. And Zeus, my future brother-in-law. They couldn’t have spelled out the threat more clearly than if they’d written it in blood.
Zeus is a white guy with blond hair and blue eyes so cold, they give even me pause. He raises an eyebrow. “Problem?”
“Not at all.” Minos is all projected good cheer. “No cold feet to speak of.”
“Good.” So much threat in four letters. “Let’s go.”
We file out of the building and into the yard or courtyard or whatever the fuck this space is. It’s packed with people and there are flowers everywhere. As if this is a real wedding, instead of a charade.
The rest of the Thirteen are here. I easily pick them out in the first few rows. Artemis, who looks like she wants nothing more than to strike me down where I stand for killing her cousin. Athena, Dionysus, Apollo, Poseidon, all of them serious and stern. I notice that Apollo brought his little girlfriend along.
Every single one of them wants me dead, and here they are, attending my wedding. Have to keep up appearances. This city loves that shit. Demeter, Hades, and Hera round out the guests. Soft. All of them are so fucking soft.
The music swells, and the guests turn as one to look back at the fancy door at the back of the space. First comes Ariadne, my foster sister. I don’t have much experience with weddings, but I thought the point was to pick ugly bridesmaid dresses so they don’t show up the bride. Aphrodite hasn’t done that. The deep red looks nice against Ariadne’s light-brown skin and the cut is flattering on her curvy body.
My gaze tracks to the reporters clustered just off to the side. Their snapping cameras are audible even with the strange little melody the wedding planner picked for this part of the event.
Pandora follows, and fuck if that doesn’t piss me off even more. She looks great. She always looks great. Her dress is a little different from Ariadne’s and fits her curves to perfection. She gives me a big smile, as if this whole thing is real instead of a political marriage to my enemy. But then, Pandora has a habit of only seeing the bright side of things. She’s my perfect balance in that way because fuck if I can see anything bright about this situation.