He narrowed his eyes. “And if I do not wish for you to come?”

“Too damn bad. This is how it’s going to be whether you like it or not, so you might as well get used to it.”

A long moment passed, and at last Cronus nodded. “Very well. Until then.”

He disappeared into the fog, and the tendrils drifted backward until the darkness swallowed them completely. I took a shaky breath, trying to calm my racing heart, and Henry placed his hand on my back.

“I love you,” he murmured. Those three words would never lose their magic. “Even if you are frustratingly good sometimes.”

I brushed my fingers against Milo’s cheek, reassuring myself for the hundredth time that he was still there. “Someone on the council needs to be,” I said, and Henry chuckled.

“Yes, I suppose you are right. Now come.” He took my hand, his touch a reminder of everything about this world that I loved. “Let’s go home.”

The black rock around us faded, leaving only lingering remnants of the war and heartache we’d battled. Henry was right—it would get better in time, as all things did. As much as loss had defined us, so did our capacity for hope.

And from here on out, no matter what the future had in store for us, we would face it together. Always.