The side of the bed suddenly dipped, and her mind returned to the present. William sat beside her once again, and as a bit of the fog cleared from her vision, she got an up-close-and-personal view of his cut and bruised face.

“I told you to sleep,” he said gently. He was always gentle with her.

She loved it, but she also kinda hated it. And she had no idea why!

She opened her mouth to respond—When have I ever obeyed you?—and noticed the dryness of her tongue. “Water. Please.”

A strong hand slid under her head and lifted. A straw pressed against the center of her lips. She sucked, the cool liquid soothing her raw throat.

As William eased her onto the pillow, she asked, “Am I going to die?” She knew nothing about supernatural illnesses, but figured they were worse than natural ones.

“No!” he shouted. He breathed in, out. “No,” he repeated softly. “I’ll find a cure.”

What if there isn’t a cure?

Okay. Time for a distraction. “How did Hades adopt you?”

William smoothed the damp hair from her brow. “He says he found me. An infant left to die.”

A twinge of sorrow. A boy rejected by his parents? Been there! Her mother hadn’t believed her—hadn’t wanted to believe her—when she told on her stepdad. Had picked the male over Gillian. “Found you where?”

“The underworld.”

Even worse! “You have no idea who your real family is?”

“I have an idea, but I’m not interested in a reunion. I have you, and I have Anya and those fools she refuses to let me kill. That’s enough.”

He considers me family. Tears burned her eyes, and her chin trembled. “Why do you like me?” He hadn’t answered Hades, but maybe he would answer her.

“Don’t be silly, poppet. What’s not to like about you?”

Where to start? She was scared of the dark, she was damaged mentally and she would never have any interest in sex.

Your tits are too small. You need a boob job.

I shouldn’t have to lube you up to make you wet.

Nausea struck...

“You’re immortal,” she said. “You’ve had experiences I can’t even fathom. You’re worldly and sophisticated and I’m—”

“You are wonderful, and I don’t want to hear another negative word come out of your mouth. Sleep. For real this time, or I’ll punish you.”

She snorted. As if he’d ever hurt her.

He ruffled her hair and stood. “There’s a bell on the nightstand. If you need anything, anything at all, ring it. I’ll be here in seconds.”

Where was he going? What would he be doing?

She swallowed both questions. Won’t cling!

Footsteps...the lights switched off, and she gasped with fear. The lights switched back on, and she sighed. Hinges squeaked as the door opened and closed.

Silence reigned. Ugh. She was alone with her thoughts. Which was never a good thing.

Drawing on every bit of strength she possessed, she rolled to her side. Dizziness swam laps in her head and oh, crap, when had the ceiling and floor traded places? She wanted to reach for the bell—William would make everything better—but moving again proved impossible. Breathing was barely possible. She had zero juice left in her system, her limbs suddenly a thousand pounds each.

The tears returned to her eyes and through the haze, a pair of furry boots appeared. William had returned? In snow boots?

A soft sigh drifted to her ears as he crouched down. She frowned. He smelled different. He smelled like peat smoke and lavender, and it was nice, very nice, but still different. The heat he exuded was wonderful, but also wrong.

This wasn’t William.

She tried to scream, but only managed to moan.

“There’ll be none of that, now.” The intruder had an Irish accent, his voice rough, and yet it held no note of viciousness. No note of any emotion, really. “I’m not here to hurt ye.”

A lie to keep her calm?

Again she tried to scream. Again she failed.

Have to warn William. He would never allow a man in her bedroom. Not even a friend.

One of those jealous husbands Hades had mentioned?

Couldn’t be. No one comes or goes without my knowledge, he’d said.

As the newcomer tucked the covers around her, her panic...ebbed? He gently wiped away her newest flood of tears and suddenly she had a clear—well, clearer—view of him. He was...what was he? He had the top half of a man and the bottom half of an animal. A goat, maybe? His legs were furred, a loincloth draped between them. He had hoofs.