I settle Eros in a corner with a basketful of flowers to chain together. I need all the concentration I can get right now.

Apollo?

I push the thought into the sky as hard as I can. Sunset’s coming soon, which means so is Olympus as it hovers eternally between day and dusk, and that makes this marginally easier. Unless he’s off somewhere wandering the world. Apollo isn’t exactly a homebody.

I hold my breath. Not that I need to breathe anyway, but it’s the thought that counts. Ten seconds pass, then fifteen, then twenty. I’m about to send it again when—

Aphrodite? There’s a tinge of surprise coloring his thought. What’s going on? Are you all right?

I sigh with relief. I found a mortal, and he’s dying, and I don’t know how to heal him.

Several more seconds pass. Zeus is watching me. If I go to you, he’ll track you down.

I hesitate and glance around the home Ares and I have made. If Apollo comes, it could mean giving up all of this. Everything we’ve built, every perfect moment together—maybe even Eros. No telling if Daddy would let him stay in Olympus. I might lose all of this for a single mortal life.

The young man in the corner lets out a soft, agonizing sob, and my heart breaks. Screw it. If Daddy wants to come find me, let him. He will never take my family away from me.

I don’t care. He needs your help. I project an image of the island to him, along with an imprint of where it would be from Olympus. The sunset must be close now. Hurry.

While I wait for Apollo, I sit beside the young man and touch his cheek—the only part of him that isn’t bloody or bruised or both. His breaths come in gasps, but he remains unconscious. From the pain, I think, but I don’t understand how he could possibly register the brutality done to his body and still be alive.

As the forest rustles with its nighttime sounds, my brother finally arrives. He kneels beside the stranger, shooing me away, and I sit back on my heels and watch anxiously. It’s been too long, I’m sure of it, but Apollo doesn’t hesitate. He holds his hands over him, and golden light glows in the space between. I’ve never seen him heal someone before. I know he can do it, of course, but for a mortal this far gone…was it even possible?

Eros toddles over to me and wraps his pudgy arms around my neck. I pull him into a hug, burying my face in his hair. His curls are the exact same shade as Apollo’s. It’s a silly thing to think about when a man’s life hangs in the balance, but it gives me some small measure of comfort.

At last Apollo pulls away. I don’t know how long it’s been, but Eros is asleep in my arms, love radiating from him as if he knows how much I need it right now. Maybe he does. My son is gifted in ways I’m just beginning to understand, and I hold him tight. “Is he going to live?”

Apollo nods grimly. He’s pale, as if he’s poured every last bit of himself into healing this stranger. “I’ve done what I can. He’ll need some time to heal.”

“He can stay here.” Even as I say it, I can hear the worry in my own voice, but no mortal would dare to harm a goddess. And if he did try, then I’d throw him into the ocean. Something about him, though—the way his face relaxes now that he’s free of pain, maybe—tells me he won’t.

“Ares won’t mind?” says Apollo, and I shrug.

“Ares isn’t here.” I can have another secret.

Apollo touches my face. Even his eyes are drained of color. “I miss you,” he says. “We’re all rooting for you and Ares, you know.”

I smile faintly. I don’t believe him. Artemis, Athena—even our aunts look down on this sort of reckless love. But it isn’t reckless if it’s real, and I’ll take their scorn if it means I get to be happy. They can remain in Olympus with Daddy, alone and miserable and full of cobwebs for the rest of forever. “Stay here tonight,” I say.

He doesn’t fight me, and soon enough he’s snoring in another corner. The fire dims to embers, but I don’t move for the rest of the night. I’m too afraid. Any moment, Daddy might find me; any moment, Ares might return. Any moment, the stranger might open his eyes.

Any moment, my world might change forever. Unless it already has.

I force myself to relax. I’m safe for now, and I have Eros. Daddy can’t take him away from me. He would never even try, knowing how badly it would hurt me.

Everything will be okay. I have to believe it—for Eros, for this stranger and for myself.

* * *

When Apollo leaves at sunset the next day, the stranger is still asleep. While the nymphs watch over him, I gather enough water, herbs and berries to keep him fed for a while—or at least I hope it’ll be enough. I don’t know how much mortals eat.

For the first time since Ares left me, I don’t go down to the beach that day. The perfect shell Eros found joins the hundreds of others we’ve collected in baskets that line the entrance of the grotto, but I barely think about it as I remain by the stranger’s side. One day won’t hurt. And this mortal needs me more than Ares needs my misery.

Apollo’s handiwork is impressive. The young man’s body is straight now, and the worst of his wounds are healed. His skin is still bruised, but at least his heart beats steadily. That’s something.

Shortly after the sun sets, the stranger’s breathing changes. It grows faster, more labored, and his good hand gropes around for something that isn’t there.

“Hold still,” I say, touching his knuckles. “You’ll hurt yourself.”