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Eyes that dulled during my speech came to life. “Yes,” he cried. “Course I will. About time one of us refused to back down. But what do you need me to do?”
“I need you to walk me there, because that was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and the pressure in my core is so intense right now, any sudden moves and I’ll explode.”
Tycho laughed out loud. “You are naughty, Aella Vanda. Why didn’t you say?” Sliding an arm around my waist, he winked. “I’d have shown you my other side a long time ago.”
My brows shot up my forehead. “Does that mean I get to watch?”
A swat landed on my backside, tearing giggles out of me. “Behave.”
Together we tripped down the hallway, laughing and smiling and gushing over the irritatingly irresistible imperial heirs who snared our hearts.
We stopped in front of the mess hall double doors. Music spilled through the cracks, beckoning me inside.
“You’ll need this.” Tycho slipped my mask from my fingers and placed it on my face. Through the eye holes, he winked. “Go get him, Aella.”
He pulled the doors open for me. “Good luck.”
Stepping over the threshold, my eyes widened bigger than my gaping jaw.
The Titan side of the mess hall was already on another level, but it was nothing compared to the wonder before me.
Gone were the tables and water features. Everything that made it a cafeteria was cleared away, and all that made it a heavenly ballroom claimed their space.
Ice chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Yes, ice. Shining, crystal droplets fell from their glittering loveliness and onto the guests. I gasped as it touched my lips.
It’s not wet,I thought, holding out my hand.Or cold.
Impossible, but true. The chandelier rain was a warm, soft kiss that tickled my skin and faded just as quickly as it came—leaving behind only the faint, sweet scent of apples. I didn’t know what god granted this power but it was beyond my wildest dreams.
The majesty pulled me in. Honor to the Olympian gods was shown in every elegant, breathtaking touch. A jovial band with suns painted on their instruments for Apollo. Flowing fountains of wine for Dionysus. Wrapped around the pillars and climbing the walls were impossibly delicate metal roses—their petals as beautiful as they were shining. I knew without asking they were the gift of a child of Hephaestus.
Maybe eventhechild of Hephaestus. The councilman for the god of fire sat tall and proud at the new head table. It still rose high above everyone, but instead of the imperial heirs, its thrones were heavy with the weight of the council themselves. Theron’s mom, Sirena’s mom, and the man sitting on the largest, tallest throne in the middle of them all, Maximos Damien.
Dancing guests, laughing Titans, happy people—their eyes were all drawn to the council no matter where they were or what they were doing... until their gaze fell on me.
“Who is that?”
“What’s she wearing?”
“Beautiful.”
I undeniably was. Never had I looked so amazing in all my years of life, but I guess that’s what happens when a sex-hound son of Hades gifts you a dress made in the fields of paradise. Not even I could accurately describe the gown clinging to my figure.
The clinging bodice, off-the-shoulder sleeves, and voluminous skirt were easy enough to name, but the fabric...
Shimmering, whispering aquamarine tulle made of wind, water, and sky captured the light from the ice chandeliers and cast dozens upon dozens of rainbows over the dance floor. I named it such because my fingers went right through it.
There and not there. Seen and stunning. Real and magic. My hands passed through the impossible gown, barely believing it covered me. Any second it was sure to dissolve into the fluttering butterfly and flower decorations clinging to my hem, and float away.
Every eye turned to me, including the eye of the two seated at the table below the council.
Sirena clung to Alex’s arm while she chattered excitedly to Penelope, Elisavet, and Sara. She was resplendent in a traditional Olympian gown. A golden circlet wove through her reddish-gold locks, matching the golden mask perched on her nose, and the golden leather vest, crown, and mask worn by Alex. But he, on the other hand, did not look resplendent.
A collection of empty mugs claimed the space in front of him, and he was working on draining the fifth. My love was well on his way to getting drunk.
There was something on the table between them and the empty mugs. A scroll encased in glass.
The marriage contract.
