Chapter 4
Hektor
The worst thing about work—any work—was meetings.
Whenever possible, he escaped them, sometimes literally.
But today…well, today he understood the point.
New place. New mission. New team.
Unfortunately.
And today?
Today was the exact kind of meeting he hated most. They’d been locked in this glass-walled conference room all day.
Working through lunch.
Working through what should have been a break.
Working through patience he absolutely did not possess.
He sat stiffly in the glass-walled conference room, arms crossed over his chest, already counting the exits out of habit. The light overhead hummed…why did lights always hum? And the scent of coffee, paper, and something floral clung to the air.
Necessary, he reminded himself.
This meeting was necessary.
He was the new guy. A Drakkon enforcer among a bunch of half-gods, gorgons, and…whatever those triplets technically counted as. Joining a team meant understanding their dynamics, learning how they worked, and figuring out how not to accidentally terrify them. Or incinerate something valuable.
He still didn’t understand how Eros expected him to fit into this project, but the god of desire had made it sound almost noble. Purpose. Redemption. A chance to do something worthwhile.
And maybe to stop thinking about the future he’d lost.
So Hektor stayed in his chair, jaw tight, reminding himself for the hundredth time:
You chose this. You agreed to this. Don’t run.
His tailbone had gone numb over an hour ago. And Perseus insisted on using color-coded sticky notes, which Hektor was convinced were designed by the gods to test his sanity.
He exhaled slowly.
This was necessary.
That was the only reason he wasn’t clawing his way out through the nearest window.
As an enforcer back home, he didn’t need meetings.
He needed orders. Clear, simple, ideally involving action and not talking about hypothetical action for eight hours straight.
But joining this team, Eros’s ridiculous, chaotic, surprisingly earnest project, meant learning their process.
Understanding their roles. Figuring out where he fits.
Preferably in a position that required very little conversation.
Zara sat across from him, explaining something about emotional threads or resonance mapping. He’d stopped keeping track around hour six, but her voice had a strange grounding quality. He didn’t mind listening to her. It made the room feel…less suffocating.
When he let his gaze drift across the table, she glanced up at the same moment, her lips parting slightly in question.
Something tight and unfamiliar thumped behind his ribs.
He ignored it.
He failed. Again.
“Alright, team,” Perseus returned to the front of the room with yet another stack of notes, gods help him, and said, “Let’s go through the action plan from the top.”
Hektor resisted the urge to groan aloud. Hours. They had been here for hours. Necessary, he reminded himself grimly.
But when Zara smiled faintly as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, something eased in his chest.
Maybe not…unbearable.
He wasn’t sure he liked what that implied.
Medusa stretched her arms over her head, bracelets clinking softly, and the sound alone made something in Hektor’s shoulders finally loosen.
“Okay,” she said, and he caught the relief beneath the word, “I think we’re finally at a good place. We just need to narrow down which territories to hit first and then work out scheduling.”
He watched her glance around the room, that warm smile in place as if the last nine hours hadn’t been spent watching color-coded sticky notes multiply like weeds.
“Thank you all for your hard work today,” she added. “I have a really good feeling about this team.”
Hektor grunted. It was either that or accidentally say something actual and sincere. Absolutely not.
Hektor forced his expression to stay flat, locking everything down. He was working; he couldn’t afford another slip like he’d had the other day, letting someone read him too easily. He tightened the shields in his mind, smoothing out every flicker of emotion before she could catch it.
Luckily, Liora swooped in before anyone could interpret his noise as a contribution.
“Yeah,” she said brightly, swinging a foot up to rest on the empty chair beside her. “No one cried, yelled, or threw a marker. That’s basically a miracle. We should put it on a sticker.”
Elian snorted into his iced coffee. Zara hid a small smile behind her hand.
Perseus gathered the last of the maps and tapped them into a neat pile. “On that note, Medusa and I have to run. But tomorrow morning we’ll figure out some of the logistics and hopefully divide tasks.”
He gave them a parting nod, the kind that made him look every inch a hero, which Hektor suspected he practiced in the mirror, and followed Medusa out the door.
The room fell into the kind of silence that meant everyone was too tired to pretend they wanted to talk anymore.
Hektor leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight.
He still hated meetings.
Still hated sitting still.
Still hated the way his tailbone felt like it had fused to the seat.
But…
He eyed the triplets: Liora stretching her arms overhead, Elian tipping chips into his mouth, and Zara tucking a loose curl behind her ear as she gathered her notes.
…he did not hate this team.
Which was somehow worse. He went back to pretending to read the map in front of him.
“So…is there somewhere we can go for happy hour?”
Hektor lifted his gaze to Zara, looking at him with a hopeful spark in her eyes.
Was she talking to him?
“Happy hour?” he echoed.
“You know, a place where people go for drinks. After work.”
He frowned. “That’s a thing?”
“Yes,” she laughed. “In the Upperworld, coworkers unwind, relax, bond, complain about their bosses…that kind of thing.”
Humans. And their rituals. Leave it to them to give everything a cute, unnecessary name.
“There are bars here,” he said at last. “We can go to any one of them.”
“Oh, that’s a great idea,” Liora chimed in immediately, jumping into the conversation.
“Yeah, I’m in,” Elian added. “Do they have anything special? Like a Vale Crossing liquor? A Drakkon brew? A mystery potion we’re not supposed to drink but probably will anyway?”
Both Hektor and Zara turned toward them at the same time. Zara looked annoyed, while he felt vaguely alarmed.
“There are…beverages,” Hektor gave Elian a flat stare. “Strong ones. Some you might actually survive.”
Zara laughed softly, the sound warm and quick, slipping under his skin before he could guard against it.
“Perfect,” she said. “Lead the way then?”
For reasons he didn’t bother trying to understand, Hektor stood. And for the first time all day, he didn’t mind being part of the group moving toward the door.
As they walked out, Zara fell into step beside him. He glanced down at her; she barely reached his shoulder. Small, yes, but built entirely out of sharp edges and bold color. He was starting to get the sense that her personality alone could knock down a door.
Behind them, her siblings trailed close, and when they joined the conversation, Hektor and Zara both looked back at them, an instinctive check-in he couldn’t quite name.
Zara smiled up at him. “So…where are we going?”
“There’s a place a couple of blocks down,” he said. “They have all kinds of drinks, imports from every region in Vale Crossing.”
“Oh, good,” Liora said brightly from behind. “Alcohol can loosen people up. Who knows what will happen then?”
Hektor caught Zara shooting her sister a warning look over her shoulder, and when Zara noticed him noticing, she said, “What do you like to drink?”
He cleared his throat. “A brew from my town. It’s too strong for humans.”
“Even for geryons?” Zara asked, eyebrows lifting.
“For geryons who grew up around it, not so much.” He paused. “But for you? I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
“Oh, it’s probably just what Zara needs,” Elian chimed in.
Zara didn’t miss a beat. “I will cut you,” she warned him.
Hektor blinked. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but from the irritation in her voice, it didn’t sound like a metaphor.
“Okay,” she exhaled, glancing up at him. “If your town’s brew will kill me, what do you recommend instead?”
“There’s a citrus mead that’s popular with visiting scholars. Light, sweet. You’d probably like it.”
Behind them, Liora let out a loud, dramatic, “Ohhh, look at her getting personalized recommendations.”
Elian chimed in, “Careful, Zara. Next thing you know, he’ll be choosing your meals for you.”
Zara spun around. “Both of you, shut up.”
Her cheeks were flushed now, unmistakably pink even under the dim streetlamps. This time, Hektor didn’t need context to understand what was happening. They were teasing her. And she was very, very flustered.
Before she could escalate into more sibling threats, the glowing sign of the tavern came into view. A welcoming hum of conversation spilled out as Hektor pushed the door open. Inside, the place was cozy, lamps hanging low, mismatched wooden tables, the faint smell of spice and brewed fruit.
He pointed toward a table near the back. “There.”
They slid into their seats, and Zara surprised him by choosing the chair right beside him instead of across with her siblings. She pulled the drink menu closer, eyes scanning the unfamiliar names before nudging it toward him.
“Okay, expert,” she murmured, “help me out.”
He leaned in slightly, scanning the sections. “You’ll like this one,” he said, tapping a floral berry wine. “Light. Not too sweet. And this”—he pointed to a sparkling herbal drink—“is refreshing. Humans seem to like it.”
Zara nodded, listening intently, her shoulder brushing his arm every now and then. Across the table, Liora and Elian watched with matching smirks, but blessedly kept quiet, for now.
When the server appeared, they placed their orders. Zara confidently requested the berry wine he’d pointed out, which earned her a knowing glance from both siblings.