Page 102 of Queen of Tempests and Sin

Aphrodite’s smile curved, indulgent. ‘That is love, mortal girl. And yes, you do love him. It’s not the polished kind mortals write about, but the truth of it. It is the sense that your bond reaches beyond this plane. That even as individuals, you are whole, but together you become more. Love is unconditional. It burns in the way your eyes lock, the way your bodies are pulled together as if by gravity. It is empathy, it is growth. You see each other’s flaws—and choose to stay.’

Her words sank into me like hooks, catching on every soft place I tried to keep shielded.

She tipped her glass towards Sephy, her voice warming. ‘I have known joy seeing these two reunited. Hades and Persephone… they embody devotion, and yet, when Zeus commanded Persephone’s courtship be opened to the pantheon, the circus it caused… it distressed even me. I watched Hades endure humiliation no god should.’

The sharp edge of anger sliced through my chest. Distressed? Distressed? That was a polite way of saying my friend had been paraded like a prize for Olympus’s amusement. My knuckles whitened around the stem of my glass, the crystal biting into my skin.

‘He did what?’ I hissed, eyes snapping to Sephy.

She laid a calming hand over mine, her voice soft, steady. ‘It’s fine, Cordie. It ended as it was always meant to.’

Fine? My teeth ground together. Nothing about that sounded fine.

Before I could spit something else sharp enough to draw blood, the air shifted. A low hum of power rippled through the courtyard, settling heavy as thunder clouds. Zeus swept in, all arrogance and grace, his violet and silver eyes glittering with a dangerous kind of amusement. The crowd bowed. I didn’t. My blood was still boiling over Sephy’s “ordeal,” as Aphrodite had so delicately put it.

‘I believe,’ Zeus said smoothly, voice carrying like velvet over steel, ‘you are the one who attempted to assassinate my brother.’ His gaze pinned me.

‘Wrong god, unfortunately,’ I shot back, the words slicing before I could temper them.

His brows arched. ‘The wrong god?’

Heat surged up my throat, fury spilling free. ‘Yes! Because I’ve just found out that you decided your pantheon could parade my friend like a circus act for your entertainment.’ I pointed to Sephy. ‘Distressed? That’s what they called it? Distressed? She was humiliated, terrified, forced into the centre ring while you all applauded.’ My hand trembled around my glass, but I didn’t stop. ‘You’re a colossal prick!’ Gasps rippled through the gathering.

‘Cordelia!’ Aphrodite squeaked, clutching her metaphorical pearls like she’d just witnessed a murder. Her eyes darted in panic between Zeus and me, as though waiting for the lightning strike.

Hades’ cold bastard smile caught my eye, but Poseidon looked pissed. I wondered if it was at Zeus or me.

Zeus’s smile cooled, the charm draining into something lethal. ‘No mortal speaks to a god that way. You forget your place, human. You are fleeting sparks. We are eternal.’

‘Mortals matter just as much as gods,’ I snapped, meeting his violet eyes, now flashing with silver, without flinching. ‘Without us, what are you ruling over? Empty air?’

The fury that flickered across his face made my heart stutter, but before he could open his mouth again, Poseidon’s growl rumbled low and dark as he moved beside me. ‘Touch her, and you answer to me.’

The air vibrated, power building, tension thickening, like a stormfront ready to break. Zeus’s form began to stretch, gleaming, vast—his true godly size swelling into the room. Poseidon matched him instantly, the ground trembling as salt and sea power thrummed from him in crashing waves.

‘For gods’ sake, another dick-measuring competition,’ Hades said dryly, sounding moments from a yawn.

Sephy choked on her champagne, eyes going wide as saucers. ‘Hades!’ she hissed, scandalised, smacking his arm as if that might make him behave.

Me? My jaw dropped, then I clapped a hand over my mouth to smother the laugh trying to rip free. Not the time. Definitely not the time. Except—goddamn it—it was funny.

The crowd scattered back, whispers breaking like surf. The air shimmered with raw force, and right then, I noticed Bronte. Gods knew when she had appeared, but there she was leaning against a column with infuriating calm.

‘Oh look,’ she drawled, her voice carrying loud enough for the whole court to hear, ‘the fractious sea god and the overblown sky-prick are duelling. Handbags at dawn, anyone? Who are we betting on?’

‘Bronte!’ I hissed, half in horror, half in relief.

Zeus’s silver gaze snapped to her, and just like that, the killing storm in his face dissolved. The king of the gods actually smiled—a wolfish, hungry smile that made my skin crawl.

‘Bronte,’ he said, lowering his godly bulk in a heartbeat, reducing to mortal size with the ripple of a thought. ‘You never fail to make an entrance.’

Poseidon let out a guttural snarl, but, grudgingly, he too shrank back down, fury still coiled tight around him.

Bronte didn’t even glance at Poseidon. She tilted her head at Zeus, smirk sharpening. ‘Still can’t take criticism without puffing yourself up like a rooster, huh? Guess some things never change.’

Instead of bristling, Zeus chuckled low in his chest, eyes still locked on her as though she were the only person in the room. ‘And yet you come back to watch.’

She rolled her eyes, muttering, ‘Trust me, I’ve seen better shows in dive bars.’