Page 99 of Queen of Tempests and Sin

A small herd grazed in the distance, coats gleaming pale as moonlight. Their manes caught the glow of the torches, silk over muscle. And then one shifted, spreading something vast and feathered from its sides… Wings. Massive, ivory wings unfurled with a soft rustle that carried even from this distance. Another stamped the ground, feathers shimmering faintly gold at the tips.

My breath left me slowly. ‘Those are not normal horses.’

Si followed my gaze, and something almost fond softened the hard lines of his face. ‘Pegasi,’ he said. ‘Aphrodite’s pride and joy.’

‘She has… flying horses,’ I whispered, unable to drag my eyes away as one lifted a few feet off the ground, hovering effortlessly before settling again.

‘I gifted her a breeding pair centuries ago. King of the sea, yes, but also king of horses. They were mine long before poets started arguing over parentage,’ he replied, tone casual, as if he hadn’t just admitted to creating airborne perfection.

I glanced at him sharply. ‘You’re telling me those are yours?’

‘They were,’ he corrected mildly. ‘Now this herd belongs to her. She adores them. Spoils them rotten. They roam her lands freely.’

As if sensing the attention, one of the winged creatures lifted its head, dark eyes intelligent and piercing. The wind shifted, carrying the scent of clean air and wild grass.

They were breathtaking. Not delicate, not fragile, but powerful in that effortless, divine way that made your chest tighten. For once, I had nothing sarcastic to say.

‘They’re…’ My voice trailed off.

‘Magnificent?’ Si supplied quietly.

I nodded, still staring. He watched me instead of them, and I had the uncomfortable feeling he wasn’t admiring the horses at all.

For a heartbeat, I forgot where I was. Forgot the gods, the politics, the sharp edges of this glittering court. It was just the open sky, wingbeats in the distance, and the quiet, impossible beauty of creatures that shouldn’t exist.

‘Cordie.’

Sephy’s fingers curled around my wrist, tugging gently.

I blinked, dragging my gaze from ivory wings to torchlight and silk gowns. The spell shattered. The music swelled back in, laughter weaving through the warm night air.

Right. Party. Gods. I exhaled slowly and forced myself to focus.

The courtyard itself was buzzing, though, according to Sephy, intimate by divine standards—maybe fifty guests scattered among artfully arranged tables draped with flowers. Jasmine curled up the Grecian pillars that ringed the space, its sweetness riding the warm evening breeze, almost enough to make me lightheaded.

Torches burned pink flames at the top of each column—yes, pink, because apparently normal fire wasn’t pretty enough here—casting a glow that made the whole place shimmer in a dreamlike haze. Between the flowers, the lights, and the perfectly placed ornamental trees, it was exquisite… almost too exquisite.

And yet, standing there in the middle of it, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Aphrodite’s court wasn’t just beautiful—it was a stage.

I muttered under my breath, ‘If this is the warm-up, I don’t even want to see her version of over the top.’

Si’s mouth twitched, that rare, dangerous almost-smile curving like he couldn’t help himself. He leaned just close enough for me to feel the heat of him and murmured, ‘Careful, little assassin. She might hear you.’

Sephy laughed, covering it badly with the back of her hand, amusement dancing in her eyes. Hades, on the other hand, lifted one regal brow, his entire expression the dictionary definition of disdain. One look from him and I snapped my mouth shut so fast my teeth clicked.

We moved down the marble steps and into the courtyard where some of the Underworld’s inner circle were already gathered, along with a few of Poseidon’s acolytes. Conversation buzzed, wine flowed, and somewhere in the corner, more laughter spilled like music.

We hadn’t even made it two steps into the courtyard before we were intercepted. Hecate, Thanatos, and Charon materialised from the crowd like shadows with wine glasses, each of them wearing expressions that ranged from amused to downright unreadable.

Hecate’s eyes, sharp and glinting with mischief, swept over me. Then she caught sight of the faint shimmer along my skin—the golden glow of Poseidon’s bond mark pulsing faintly, an aura beneath the torchlight.

‘Well, well,’ she drawled, her lips curving in a wicked smile. ‘So it’s true. The cantankerous sea god finally put his mark on someone. Poor Erebus—he’ll be devastated. He was already composing poetry about her hair.’

Poseidon stepped in close, his voice low and cutting, storm-dark eyes locked on Hecate. ‘Erebus can recite poetry to the shadows he crawled out of. Cordelia is mine.’

The last word rolled like thunder, final and absolute.

‘Possessive. How very on-brand for you,’ Hecate purred, sipping her wine with wicked amusement.