Page 51 of A Crown of Hopes and Sorrows

“Zephyrus?”

“Oh, yes.” She smirked. “He invited me, saying that you would attend, and that you were keen to see me. His letter”—her expression deepened, her eyes twinkling—“held certain implications.”

Zephyrus.

The fucking bastard.

So, he thought to distract me with someone beautiful, so he could have Hyacinth to himself. Rage washed through me. Hyacinth was mine. Zephyrus had no fucking right. I hated this plan and had been over it from the moment we stepped into this godforsaken palace in the middle of the ice mountains like some sort of glass prison for the exiled. I wanted us—Cyn, in particular—out of this place and away from here.

I coughed and shifted back to Kalliope, where she stood watching me curiously. Well, it wasn’t her fault. “I’m very sorry for any miscommunication… I didn’t intend to offend—”

She chuckled and wrapped her arm around mine. “Apollo, stop. I should have known the last time I saw you that your interest in me had waned. I’m not offended… by you, at least.”

I patted her hand.

She lifted her glass of champagne and swallowed the entire flute. “I mean, I am now a woman scorned, and I had expected to have a carefree night in the hands of someone”—she side-eyed me, her lips pinching again—“who knows what he’s doing in the bedroom.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “My apologies.”

She began walking us around the party, both of our silver glows reflecting on the floor like a puddle of moonlight. “So, who is it Zephyrus is trying to keep your hands off, then?”

“That’s making some big assumptions.” Hyacinth and Delon walked back into the room, Hyacinth’s features tight. My heart ached. Something was wrong. And he’d been alone with Zephyrus for an extended time. How I wished to go to him, hear whatever burdened him, feel his fingers long and rough against my own. To know that he was safe and protected.

Hyacinth’s gaze met mine and then darted to Kalliope before he shifted into the room, walking over to Boreas.

Kalliope squeezed my arm. “Ah, our mortal prince. And he is very handsome, too.”

“Well, that’s true enough.”

She chuckled. “So, tell me, Apollo, what are mortals like in bed as you take such keen interest in them in that department?”

A smile slipped up on my face. “Do you want to find out?”

“I’m intrigued,” she said, clinking her nails against her empty glass.

I swept her through the crowd until we approached the person I looked for. “Delon.”

He turned towards us and bowed, his eyes lingering on Kalliope.

“Let me introduce you to Kalliope, a muse with a voice of the likes you’ve never heard before.”

He nodded. “I’d be honored to hear it sometime.”

Kalliope opened her mouth. But I spoke first. “Sadly, tonight, that isn’t the foremost issue. She’s been snubbed by an arrogant asshole of a god who she’d planned to spend the evening with.”

Kalliope’s lips pinched at a smile, and she ducked her head, but Delon clicked his tongue. “He must be an idiot.”

“I assure you,” I said, “he is. I promised Kalliope that mortals have better manners, and I knew one would be happy”—I emphasized the word, cocking up an eyebrow—“to enjoy her company this evening.”

Delon nodded again. “I would be most honored.”

Kalliope turned and patted my cheek. “Apollo, you’re a lamb, as always.”

Delon inclined his head to me, a bright smile flooding his face as the two swept away from the crowd together. An attendant passed, and I snagged a glass of wine. Thank the gods. This trip was going to kill me. A feat for an immortal, but I was starting to think it wasn’t impossible.

“Run off the one person in this room that’s interested in you?” Zephyrus said, walking up to my side, his wings blocking the light of the chandeliers and casting us into shadow.

“Perhaps.” I took a deep breath. “Did you do the same?”