Suddenly breathless, she glanced at Ari and felt the peculiar wave of heat surge through her body that always hit her whenever she looked his way. In her mind, she imagined being the bride and Aricles running up to her with the same exuberance.

“Are you all right, my goddess?”

The concern in his voice made her weak in the knees. “I’m fine, Ari.”

He handed her a kylix of watered-down wine.

While Aricles spoke to his father, she wandered about the room, listening to people and watching how they acted and interacted. People had always fascinated her. They were so incongruous and unpredictable.

So very odd.

The music was lovely, and those who danced did so with carefree, happy abandon. It was only then that she realized Aricles never partook of such frivolous behavior. Unlike Galen, who hoisted a woman over his shoulder and twirled about with her while drinking from a silver kylix, Aricles was forever rigid and dignified. Controlled.

Circumspect.

He’d told her that it stemmed from the year his mother had died, when he was eight. Perseus had been just a toddler, and their father had been so distraught that he’d been unable to function without his wife. For two months straight, his father had lain in bed with drink, rising only to attend the most basic of bodily functions. All the upkeep for their farm, servants, and family had fallen to Ari’s young shoulders. His father had given him no chance to grieve himself for his mother while he took care of his brothers, but rather had thrown him into adulthood far too soon. And then when his grandfather had taken ill two years later, he’d been sent to care for him and his farm until his grandfather had died.

Barely twelve years old, Aricles had been alone with his grandfather when the man had taken his last breath. And all the funeral preparations had fallen to him, too.

It wasn’t until now that she fully understood what the loss of his childhood had meant for him. Other men his age were laughing and groping at the women around them. Dancing and singing with unfettered joy. They leaned up against others without thought or concern.

Like Galen.

Meanwhile, Ari stood sober and somber.

Except for when they were alone. Then he could be giddy and sweet. His eyes would light up with life and he’d jest with her as he helped her to understand humor and human ways.

As if sensing her saddened mood, Aricles started for her then was diverted by a small girl who was trying to reach for bread on the table. With a kind smile, he picked her up and helped her to get it then returned her to her feet.

The girl’s mother joined them and thanked him before she led her daughter away. Bathymaas stared at the woman’s distended belly. It was obvious she was about to have another child, maybe even tonight. She’d never paid attention to pregnant women before.

Now…

She placed her hand on her flat stomach and tried to conceive what it would feel like to have a baby growing there. Biting her lip, she met Ari’s gaze and a strange chill ran over her as she imagined what his baby might look like. Surely it would be as beautiful as its father.

“Are you all right, goddess?”

She frowned at his question. “Why do you never call me by name, Ari?”

Clearing his throat, he glanced away. “It’s not my place to use it.”

But she suspected there was more to it than that. It was as if he used her title to remind himself that he wasn’t divinely born. And while he might not have the genetics, he certainly had the character.

Not to mention the immortal heart she’d given him.

“I should like to hear it from your lips. Just once. Would you humor me?”

There was no missing the devotion in those beautiful blue eyes as he looked down at her. “I will always humor you… Bathymaas.”

She savored the richness of his accent as he finally spoke her name. “Do you ever dance, Aricles?”

He laughed nervously. “I tried it once and quickly learned, as you mentioned earlier, that embarrassment is a highly unpleasant emotion.”

She so loved how he explained things. “I don’t suppose you’d want to try it again…”

“For your pleasure alone, my goddess, I would gladly make a fool of myself.”

He set her cup aside and offered his hand to her. Without hesitation, she took it and allowed him to pull her to the floor with the others. As they danced, she saw no reason for him to be embarrassed. Indeed, he was quite adept at this. But more than that, every time she felt his arms around her and his hard muscles flexing, she became even weaker in the knees.

Aricles forgot about everyone else in the room as he watched the happy glint in Bathymaas’s eyes and the smile that played at the edges of her lips. For a woman who’d never danced before, she was more than accomplished.

Because she’s a goddess.

It scared him how easily he forgot that whenever he was with her. He’d long ago ceased seeing her as anything other than his heart.

Even now, all he wanted to do was pull her close and hold her like he did whenever they met at the stream to fish. And when she stepped into his arms and placed her head against his shoulder, he melted. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her precious scent and wished they could be like this forever.

All too soon, the song ended and he was forced to release her from his embrace.

He opened his eyes and caught Galen’s glower of consternation, which he knew he deserved. He had no right to lust after a goddess. No right to be so familiar with the one they served.

Yet his brain was as deaf as his heart. Neither listened to common sense. His entire body betrayed him with wants, needs, and dreams he knew he shouldn’t feel.

Bathymaas stood up on her tiptoes and placed a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for humoring me.”

He inclined his head to her and did his best to ignore his brother as Galen continued to glare at him.

Hours later, after they’d returned to their island barracks, Galen cornered him in the back hallway.

“What is going on with you and the goddess?”

Aricles kept his tone level and his expression blank. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You love her.”

“Of course, I do. I love all the gods.”

“Yes, but not like you do her. I’m not stupid, Ari. And I know what I saw.”

He shrugged Galen’s anger away. “I am nothing more than her soldier. The same as you and the others.”

“And if I don’t believe you?”

“You’re a fool.”

Galen cursed him under his breath. “Fine, but if I’m right, brother, be careful. Love never works out between mortals and gods. If something were to happen to you…” Tears welled in his eyes before he quickly blinked them away. “I’d have to grow up and that’s the last thing I want to do.”

Smiling, Aricles hugged him close then kissed his head. “Fear not, little brother. I shall be here for quite some time to annoy you.”

“You better be. Otherwise, I’ll have to follow you to Kalosis and beat the shit out of you.”

February 8, 12,250 BC

Tomorrow Bathymaas would have to send her Ēperon out to battle. The Greek gods had been overstepping their bounds for weeks now, and their forces would have to be quelled. This was what her team had been trained for.

Yet…

Over and over, she tried to think of some reason to keep Aricles out of the fight.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t a logical one.

She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t. It wasn’t her place to have feelings for anyone. But as she contemplated the thought of his being injured, she couldn’t breathe for the ferocious pain inside her. No wonder he’d told her he could do without love.

It was agony.

And it was something she couldn’t tell anyone that she felt.

Not even Aricles.

To do so would only cause him to be harmed. She was never to know emotion and yet he’d managed to make her feel when nothing and no one else ever had.

Her gaze went to Malphas who was formulating their battlefield strategy over a map table. He’d lost his love a long time ago. There was a permanent darkness in his eyes from it and she’d seen him break down into tears from time to time when he thought he was alone… all the times when he’d reach for the locket he wore that contained a bit of hair from his love.

She’d never understood that until now.

“Perhaps we should let the Greeks fight this out for themselves.”

Malphas looked up at her with a stern frown. “Who are you?”

“Bathymaas.”

He laughed. “There’s the goddess I know. The one a second ago… never met her before.”

Ah, now she understood why he’d asked that question.

Sighing, she closed the distance between them so that she could look over his plans. “Are you sure they’re ready?”

“I wouldn’t send them into battle if I wasn’t. They’ve learned to be a team and have bonded well. They no longer see themselves as humans, Apollites, and Atlanteans, but rather your Ēperon. You have their loyalty over their homelands.”

Still, she couldn’t bear the thought of someone striking Aricles. Of them bruising his flawless body.

But she had no choice. She had to send him out and appear to all that she couldn’t care less.

How she was going to do that, she had no idea.

Please, Ari… don’t get hurt.

And yet she had an awful sense of foreboding that said the fight would not go well for any of them.

February 9, 12,250 BC

Standing on the edge of a cliff so that she could watch the fight, Bathymaas chewed her thumbnail as her men battled a Greek phalanx. Malphas was at the head of them, but it was Aricles who held her attention. True to Malphas’s words, her entire team was incredible. Yet it was obvious which of them was the strongest and most skilled.

Not even Malphas with his demon powers could equal Aricles’s abilities. He fought as if he heard his enemy’s thoughts. As if he knew every move they’d make before they did.

With little effort, her men broke through the shield wall and had the Greeks on the defensive.