Page 108 of The Gods Forbid

I shook my head. I knew exactly who I was going to instate, I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet. The Oracle’s message had lingered, staying with me like my own shadow, and I knew it was time.

Besides me coming back as Apollo, it was really the one thing Persy had been tasked with during these six months. And with little over a month left…

It was time.

A sick, twisted part of me wanted to dig my heels in and say fuck it and refuse to do it, even if that kept me locked away here for the rest of my life. That didn’t seem like the worst torture I could cook up.

Unfortunately, I knew I had to listen to the Oracle in that regard. The image of the world without any art or beauty or music wasn’t something that would leave me anytime soon. And seeing how distraught Persy was …

No, that wasn’t an option.

I needed to select heirs. I needed to come back as Apollo.

The first step in that journey was the Council meeting, which was certainly not making me nervous.

“Get off my ass and finish that bouquet before Kostas thinks you’ve lost interest,” I said to Nikolas.

His face immediately drained of blood. “You don’t think he would?”

I had to smile at the sheer horror in his voice. “Nikolas, you know what you’re doing.” I’d met one woman he’d dated for a while, and I remembered their relationship seeming like a good one. “Don’t freak out.”

“This is different,” he argued, fussing over the flowers. “This feels bigger. Like, permanent or something.”

Oh, he was fucked. I would be watching him get married within the year.

I walked over and clapped a hand over his shoulder. “Give Kostas my well wishes. I’m off.”

Nikolas nodded. “Tell Daphne I say hi.”

“Not your brother?”

Nikolas smirked, shrugging one shoulder. “Him, too.”

I would be hard pressed to say it out loud, but the slow regrowth of Nikolas and Lukas’s relationship made me happy for him. I saw how much lighter it made Nikolas first hand.

The brotherly teasing was a greater sign of their relationship than anything else.

“Don’t eat lunch,” I said as I walked out the door. “I have it on good authority you have a feast waiting for you when you drop off those flowers.”

Nikolas straightened, but I was gone with a laugh by the time he called after me. Kostas had dropped by this morning in a semi-panic, asking Persy—and me, technically, while I stood by and fed her—if we agreed it was time he formally ask Nikolas to be in a relationship.

They were both taking things slow, both careful of the reason they ended up in Prometheus in the first place.

I looked down at my watch, silently cursing when I realized I was going to be late. It would be entirely inappropriate for me to try to hunt down Persy at this stage.

I didn’t care all that much about the actual Council meeting. It would pass as normal.

But there was someone I needed to talk to, the thought of which made guilt and nerves twist through my stomach. The only thing worse than the idea of trying to rebuild that bridge would be walking in late, so I forced myself to gather a portal to Olympus and step through.

Thankfully, the Council hall was in the fancier part of Olympus. Adrian’s house was built into the background, the grand, limestone halls fading into a homey decor the further back you went.

But the Council hall looked like a temple, with towering columns and glistening marble fit for the gods. Normally, voices sprang off the walls, echoing loudly through the hallways, the voices of over a dozen gods fighting with each other.

This time, there was nothing but hushed whispers and quiet chatterings. I pushed through the large wooden doors to the room, expecting to find myself among the first to arrive given the noise.

What a shock it was, then, to find that I was dead last. Every single throne except for mine was filled with a god who was staring at me with a range of expressions from wide-eyed to carefully neutral.

“Happy Council,” I said, in an attempt to break the tension, walking over to my throne. I sat in the middle, right across from Lukas and Daphne’s joint throne. Adrian was at the head of the long, wooden table, carved from one of the oldest trees in the Mediterranean. On the other end of the table sat Rose and Dominic on a longer bench, painted the darkest black and decorated with gold. A wedding present that I remember had caused quite the ruckus between them.