Zeus and his parties are a divine pain in the arse. They're like a wannabe version of Dionysus’s gatherings, just louder and more violent than carnal. Despite all of that, you stand surrounded by gods, nymphs, and even some humans, sipping cherry ambrosia from your chalice. A cream-colored chiton drapes over your winged form. Standing between Ares and Thanatos, you chat along with the rest of the group, nodding as you listen to Hecate on another tangent about how ungrateful mortals are towards her magic.

Dionysus throws you a sly smirk, paired with an almost imperceptible yawn and a roll of his eyes; the god of wine much prefers different kinds of parties, ones with fewer clothes. Though you sense the absence of a looming presence that usually lingers around you, you don’t say anything until you feel the familiar warmth and scent—something dark and cool, like a cold storm.

"Ah, look who finally decided to show up!" booms Hermes, as the twins Apollo and Artemis stand grinning, looking behind you.

"Uncle, how nice of you to join us," Athena smirks just as you turn to find Hades standing behind you in all his towering glory. His long, dark hair falls to his waist, glistening in the low light of the gathering.

"I’ve been missed, it seems," he says dryly, his voice smooth and cool, large, leathery, bat-like wings tucked in behind him. His eyes lock onto yours, almost smoldering into your skin. A familiar flutter runs up your spine as you hold his gaze. There’s always been something there, though you’re not completely sure if it’s just eons of sporadic encounters like these, leaving you wanting more and your instant denial of such yearnings, or if he felt it too.