Crystalline giggling roused Antonia from the dark pit of sleep. It took an agonizing amount of time to wade through the soupy layer between sleep and wakefulness. It was like she was sick, but Antonia couldn't recall any current ailments.

When her mind was finally ready to rise, Antonia turned her attention to her body. All her limbs ached like she'd spent a week straight training with Mr. Ignotus. Her mouth was so dry it was like she was shoving glass down her throat every time she swallowed. Her heavy head pulsed with every beat of her heart.

Antonia had experienced this sensation before, dozens of times. At the moment, she couldn't pinpoint why, but that uncertainty would fade once she took in her situation.

Every eyelash weighed as much as a mountain, but somehow, she opened her eyes. Her vision cleared slower than fog in the forest, but her concern leaped by astronomical bounds.

Now that she could see, Antonia realized she'd come to on the floor. The cool ceramic tile offered a reprieve from the cloying humidity hanging in the air. The tile was no color or design she knew at first glance, but the longer she stared at the apple and daffodil pattern, the more dread turned her blood to ice.

Oh no, God, no. She couldn't be in—

"Eleven days. Quite the record," came a voice as rich as coffee and as heady as berries ripening in the sun from behind her.

Hearing it almost made Antonia's heart stop. Now that all her memories were hers, she knew exactly who the voice belonged to. She knew how close she was to death.

"You should always face your betters, or were you not taught respect this cycle?"

More sparkling laughter followed the sharp comment.

Antonia's jaw clenched. More than anything, she wanted to be defiant. Too many times she had cowered at this moment, and the owner of the voice had grown to like Antonia's meekness too much.

Her spirit might have been the same, but she was not the same woman this cycle. No one, not even a goddess, would make Antonia feel like she was less worthy of life or love.

Yet, Antonia couldn't let on how different she was yet. She was doing the tasks too early for Eros' plan to take full effect. He wasn't mortal and that would be a problem if Antonia didn't make it through the tasks.

Oh, how she wished she could recall the tasks. While she could remember being at this very moment, she couldn't remember what came afterward.

It was always that way, though. The curse had been stacked against Antonia from the beginning. Its 'fairness' came from there being just enough chance for Antonia to succeed that it couldn't be declared impossible.

Would the Fates care, though, if the curse was permanent? Would it have fazed any of the gods?

"Come now, get up! I know you aren't hurt."

That voice, one that was supposed to evoke passion, did nothing but grate against Antonia's nerves. It was more annoying than her father's and sisters' voices combined, even if the three of them were screaming at her at the same time.

As much as she hated to, Antonia complied with the demand. She moved slowly as she willed her body to sit up.

Part of her slowness was because of the terrible sensations still hitting her poor limbs, but she could have gone faster than she was. Yet she took joy in making the powerful entity watching her wait.

How long had this curse been going on? For how many years had Antonia's spirit longed for rest?

It should be nothing for the present company to wait a few unnecessary minutes as Antonia oriented herself. Hell, if Antonia felt better, she might have attempted to take a whole day. But she was too tired to act so outrageously.

Deep, furious breathing came from Antonia's back, and she smiled to herself. It was unwise to provoke her audience, but how could she not take some pleasure in knowing how she upset her greatest enemy? Never in all previous cycles had she gotten the better of her enemy, not even for a moment.

No, Antonia would savor this a little longer.

"Despite what you may think, I don't have eternity."

Okay, Antonia had had her fun. She took a deep breath and rose to her feet. Once she had steady footing and a straight back, she turned.

On a pile of the fluffiest, most comfortable-looking pillows Antonia had ever seen, sat the cause of her spirit's unrest.

Tall and well-built with the right curves to tempt the Pope, Aphrodite was easily the most attractive individual Antonia had ever laid her eyes on. Sex appeal and the promise of the darkest longings fulfilled radiated from the goddess. It filled the air like an ever-lingering perfume that was almost too much for the senses to handle.

Yet, as Antonia gazed at the literal embodiment of sex, love, and attraction, she realized Aphrodite wasn't beautiful. Sure, she'd catch the eye of any male that happened upon her, but the goddess had nothing beyond her looks to hold their interest once they tasted her flesh. Cold calculations shined from her big, flower pink eyes. Selfishness hardened the careful planes of her perfect face.

Aphrodite might have projected the image of a soft, inviting female, but she was anything but.

Antonia almost laughed.

How many decent, homely women wished they had Aphrodite's looks? How many had prayed to the goddess but had never realized how much more desirable they were than the one they asked a favor from? Had someone played a trick on Aphrodite when they'd made her the Goddess of Beauty and not told her that beauty had nothing to do with appearance?

Or had all Aphrodite's beauty somehow been transferred to Eros when she'd birthed him? He was far from ideal and was still too much like his mother, but Eros was better than the one that had given him life. Though he might not know it, his current transformation made him the most beautiful being to have ever lived.

"You have an attitude this time," Aphrodite said and pulled Antonia from her thoughts.

Antonia shrugged. "I've been told that."

Aphrodite smirked. "You're also idiotic. Talking back to a goddess is a sure way to wind up as a pile of ash."

"We both know you can't do that."

Aphrodite laughed, but to Antonia, it sounded too hard, too forced. "Is that what you think, mortal?"

It might have been the worst thing to do, but Antonia said, "Do it now then. Being burnt to a crisp won't be the worst way I've died."

Red colored the goddess' whole face. Her eyes flickered. The space around Antonia grew hot.

While Antonia worried what would happen if she died before Eros became mortal, she wasn't afraid of Aphrodite's wrath. In previous cycles, she would have flung herself to her knees at the goddess' feet while begging for forgiveness. She would have promised anything to spare her life, and more than once she'd offered to never see Eros again if it meant she returned home.

Not this time. Not this last cycle. What made her different this cycle was going to let her defeat Aphrodite, regardless of what she had to do.

No flames came.

In time, the heat left the surrounding area. Aphrodite's face and eyes returned to normal. The goddess even adopted an amused, laidback expression that couldn't distract Antonia from noticing Aphrodite's left hand twisting the side of her dress.

"You can't believe how much of a relief it is that you aren't so easily intimated this time around." Aphrodite shook her head. "You can only see the same mortal cower a few hundred times before the novelty wears off."

"What am I doing here?"

What Antonia was asking was, "Is this a task?" She couldn't be sure. She knew she always met with Aphrodite after she discovered the truth. They always spoke, but it wasn't always a simple conversation—if one could consider any conversation with Aphrodite simple.

If this was a chat, Antonia wanted it over now. To endure Aphrodite for longer than an hour was the type of torture that belonged in the Spanish Inquisition. How had so many gods and mortals tumbled into her bed more than once?

"Well, every mother should spend time with, and get to know, the individual their child is hopelessly in love with."

"For two thousand years, I've kept winding up in front of you. You'd think you'd know me inside and out by now."

"For being so insignificant, you mortals can be complicated."

"We are as we were made."

Aphrodite smirked. "That's true, and all you mortals were intended for is playthings."

"Not all the gods think that way."

Aphrodite laughed. "Oh, come now. You may be stupid, but you have a brain. Gods crave mortals for as long as the mortals remain interesting, but that's not eternal. Mortals can't compare with the divine."

"Then why is Eros still chasing me?"

"Because he hasn't caught you yet. Once he does, he'll move on to the next pretty thing. That's what gods do."

Aphrodite spoke the truth. That was one reason, during Antonia's first life as Psyche, she'd resisted Eros. Then, the gods and their exploits had been well known, and most maidens had been warned against drawing the attention of one of them. When mortals and gods mixed, only misery grew from their union. Even the few maidens that had become immortal hadn't found contentment.

Why did Antonia think it would be any different for her and Eros? Was it because he was turning mortal for her? More than likely, that would make their relationship worse.

What would stop him from resenting her for his crazy decision? It might not happen right away, but one day he would wake up and hate that he was no longer a god, and he'd blame her. How was their love going to end up any differently than the others?

Except...

Eros was changing for her. No god had ever gone to such lengths for a mortal. When mortals and gods came together, it was the mortal that did the impressive feats to prove they were worthy. All the gods had to do was convince Zeus to let the relationship stand, and that wasn't difficult to do.

Eros hadn't become mortal in haste. He knew exactly what he was giving up to be by her side.

Would there be days he despised his mortality?

Yes.

Were they going to have fights about it?

Yes.

Would there be times when one or both would think none of this had been worth it?

At least once.

Yet they would make it through whatever happened. They'd endured this insanity for the past two thousand years and nothing had torn them apart. Once they could finally build a life together, there was nothing that would stop them.

Antonia shook her head. "Such a shame."

Aphrodite's eyes narrowed. "What?"

"You've had thousands of years, and you don't even know your own son. Or you refuse to see who your son is. Either way, you're a terrible mother."

Aphrodite's hands balled into visible fists. "Who are you to pass judgment on what sort of mother I am? This is all your fault. Had you not seduced my son, none of this would have had to happen."

Anger swelled in Antonia's chest. It washed away what little sense she'd been clinging to. She'd had many accusations hurled at her throughout her many lives, but none had enraged her as the one Aphrodite had uttered. Of all the things she'd accepted blame for, this curse wouldn't be one of them.

"Eros came to me," Antonia said. She took a step toward the goddess. "And he wouldn't have been anywhere near me if you hadn't gotten jealous." Antonia snorted. "Two men said I was more attractive than you. Just two, and you couldn't handle it."

"That anyone would have the audacity to—"

Antonia cut Aphrodite off with a flick of her hand. "I thought mortals can't compare to the divine." She didn't wait for the goddess to comment. "So, what if two men thought I was prettier than you? I would have died in a few decades with no one caring who I was. Maybe I would have been mentioned in some account, but literal legends wouldn't have been written about me."

Aphrodite's mouth opened, but she didn't utter a sound.

Antonia didn't savor her victory. She had more to get off her chest.

"You know what's even better about all this? Had you backed off and given Eros the chance to grow bored with me, he probably would have. But you couldn't, could you? You drove him away from you and into my arms by your incessant need to control all those around you. Has continuing this stupid curse been worth losing him?"

Aphrodite's chest rose and fell at a rate that would have been alarming if she were mortal. All color had drained from her face, and she looked like the ghosts from the stories Argura used to tell Antonia to scare her into staying in bed at night.

Wild whispers came from the unseen individuals who'd been giggling at the beginning of this talk.

At any moment, Aphrodite could lash out. She wasn't supposed to physically harm Antonia, but the gods rarely stuck to their own rules. Aphrodite would be punished for going against the set parameters of the curse, but it would be equivalent to a slap on the wrist.

None of this scared Antonia. She was through living in fear of Aphrodite, and all the gods. All they were was a bunch of giant, powerful children who'd never been told 'no'.

What did it matter if they penalized her insolence? What more could they do to her? Her spirit's inability to rest for thousands of years was worse than anything they could do to her in Tartarus.

Aphrodite didn't leap at Antonia. She didn't wave her hands and send a dozen knives to pierce Antonia's chest. She didn't conjure a pack of wolves to tear her limb-from-limb.

No, instead of anything like that, the goddess steadied her breathing and stopped the shaking that had started in her arms. She swallowed twice and smoothed her light, thick hair until it gleamed with perfection.

Aphrodite didn't look at Antonia as she did all this. Her lack of action or addressing Antonia made the invisible whisperers mutter louder. The noise resembled a rainstorm.

Once Aphrodite had gotten control of herself, she focused back on Antonia. The cold glimmer had returned to her gaze. She'd adopted the persona of the aloof goddess that had soiled herself by being in the presence of an unworthy being.

The act pulled a smile from Antonia. Did Aphrodite think she would forget what she'd seen? Did she think Antonia would pretend that she hadn't gotten under a goddess' skin?

"Not just anyone can be by my son's side," Aphrodite said, her voice formal and emotionless as she spoke the words Antonia had been waiting for. "You must prove your worthiness. Three tasks will determine how much you love Eros. You've... already passed one. Two more await."

Antonia's heart leaped. This task hadn't been easy, but it hadn't broken her either. If she could hold tight to what made her different, she might beat Aphrodite's curse.

A sinister grin curled up the ends of Aphrodite's lips. "Have fun failing again," she said and snapped her fingers.