“I’m never going to be like your mother,” I say softly. “I’m never going to be able to devote myself to one person no matter how much I love them. You have to leave to do your duties, and this—this is my way of doing mine.”

He swallows. “I know. I don’t like it, but I know.”

“It doesn’t mean I love you any less,” I say. “I don’t. I love you so much it hurts. But—I can love other people without my love for you fading. If anything, it only makes me love you more.”

His mouth forms a thin line, and he stares at his hands. I’ve never seen him so undone before. I’m used to his rage, his fire, but this quietness is unnatural. And I’m the one who did it to him.

“Do you…do you still love me?” I say in a small voice, and his head snaps up. He rises without a word. Crossing the space between us, he embraces me.

“Always,” he murmurs. “I still want to marry you, Aphrodite. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. My favorite moments are when I’m with you. I don’t want that to end.”

“It never has to,” I promise. Something twists inside me, though. Beautiful, perfect—the things I am to everyone else, as well. It shouldn’t bother me, but it does, and I hate myself for it.

He hesitates. “But I can’t marry you when you’re still seeing him. I need you to understand that. Anyone else—I don’t care who, you’re free to do whatever you want as long as you love me most of all. But Hephaestus…”

I grow still. I expected this, of course. Ares sees the world in black-and-white, and no matter how happy Hephaestus makes me, Ares doesn’t want to compete with his brother. After all, he might lose. I understand that. It hurts, but I understand. And at least he isn’t lying to himself.

“I love you,” he says. “I love every part of you, except the part of you that—cares for him. I want to marry you. I will marry you, and we’ll spend our lives together. But in order for us to be happy, you can’t see him anymore. That’s all I ask.”

My heart flutters. It may be the only thing he wants, but it’s not exactly a small request, and the thought of never seeing Hephaestus again—of never feeling that warmth, of never getting to be with him—makes me ache in a way I’ve never ached before.

Ares or Hephaestus. The love I want or the love I need.

It isn’t fair. But Daddy’s right—whatever I choose is going to define the rest of my life. There will always be battles, and there will always be war. No matter how often Ares promises he’ll be there for me, he will leave. Probably more than I realize. So that’s my choice—a life of intermittent fire, of waiting for Ares to return home from whatever battle he’s disappeared to, or a life of steady warmth. Of companionship.

And maybe Hephaestus isn’t lying to himself. Maybe he is willing to share me in a way Ares isn’t.

I hesitate. “I love you and Eros. I love our family. If I could only know one truth in my life, that would be it. But—if I didn’t marry you…if I did what Daddy wants…”

Ares stiffens, and his warmth turns to ice. I expect nothing less, but it still hurts.

“I could still be with you,” I say. “We wouldn’t lose anything.”

He hisses and pulls away. “Do you really think that? If you belonged to him—”

“Belong? I don’t belong to anyone, Ares.”

“Of course you do,” he scoffs. “You belong to me.”

I slap him. Hard. The sound of skin against skin echoes through the chamber and undoubtedly down the hallway, but I don’t care who hears it. “The only person I belong to is myself.”

He touches his cheek. I didn’t hurt him, of course, but that spark in his eyes is back, and he steps toward me. “You know that isn’t true. Mother belongs to Father, Persephone will belong to Hades once they’re married, and you’ll belong to me. If you choose Hephaestus—” he spits out his name like it’s poison “—then you’ll belong to him, as well. That’s how marriage works.”

I draw myself to my full height. “Then I won’t marry anyone.”

He grabs my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin. Before I can protest, he kisses me, nipping my lower lip and pressing his body to mine. “Fine,” he growls. “Then you’ll still be mine.”

Using every ounce of strength I have, I shove him off me. “No. And if this is how you’re going to treat me, then it’s over.”

He laughs his humorless laugh. “Yeah, right. You’ll be begging to come back to me soon enough. It’s who you are, Aphrodite, and Hephaestus will never understand.”

I spin on my heel and head toward the archway. “That’s what you think.”

But even as I storm out of the chamber, I can feel that fire between us. It’ll always be there, whether we’re married or not, and nothing I do will ever quench it. The faster we both accept it, the better.

Hephaestus and Eros sit in the middle of the hallway several rooms down, close enough that they must have heard everything. Eros is oblivious as he plays with a stack of wooden blocks, but Hephaestus meets my eye, and I see understanding. Something Ares has never shown me.

“Ask me,” I say, kneeling beside them. Hephaestus says nothing. “Ask me, or I’ll ask you.”

He shakes his head. “I won’t ask you to marry me when you’re out for revenge against my brother.”