Chapter Twenty-Seven

It was a couple of hours before dawn when Hephaestus slipped out of the covers, wincing at the ache in his butt. He rubbed his belly, filled with a calm certainty their love would bring the desired result. But for now he had a different desire – one he hadn't had for a while. He wanted to craft something.

Making his way quietly down the hallway, he stopped in the room where the six automatons were watching television. They had a bit to learn about "engaging in leisure activities," as Landyn called it, all sitting rigidly, their eyes fixated on the screen. But Hephaestus wasn't about to interfere with his mate's education of his automatons.

"Charlie," he said, pointing at the one with that particular name badge – another Landyn innovation when Hephaestus couldn't get their names straight. They were designed and built to all look exactly the same, so it wasn't like he could be blamed for that. But for some reason, Landyn could tell them apart. "I am going over to the workshop. You are to stay outside our bedroom door, and you will answer if my mate calls. Let him know where I am, so he does not worry. Guard that door and my mate."

"Yes, sire." Charlie nodded.

"Bertie and Simon, you will attend me in the forge. Cleo, Georgia and Sarah, you will wait one hour and then ensure the kitchen is straightened up, all things put away in a logical order in the cupboards, and that everything is clean for when my mate wishes to make breakfast. You will do it quietly. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sire." Yep, they all still looked the same to Hephaestus. But if names made Landyn happy, then so be it.

Heading outside, Hephaestus looked up at the clear night sky. The stars were so brilliant it was almost as if he could touch them, but that wasn't his focus. He was looking at the end of the ramp that led to the porch, and then he checked the space on either side of the front door.

Decided, he made his way down the ramp and across the large parking lot. He waved his hands to ensure the double wooden doors, that were almost as tall as the building itself, slid silently on their tracks. His mate was worn out, pleasantly so, and needed his sleep.

The workshop used to be where Herbert, the previous owner, had maintained his tractors and machinery. It was empty for now, except for a wide wooden bench that ran the width of one wall. The floor was concrete, and on one side there was a deep pit. Hephaestus filled that in with a flick of his hand. That wouldn't be safe for his mate in either form or any potential children.

Where to put the forge? Hephaestus decided on the one corner of the workroom that didn't have any windows. His magic would protect the concrete and the walls from the heat, and wards would prevent anyone who shouldn't see what he was doing from doing so. The last thing he wanted to deal with was authorities who would start worrying about health and safety regulations.

Now, what to make? Hephaestus wandered over to the newly installed forge, breathing in the flames. It was an eternal fire, sourced from Tartarus itself, and it would never go out. Then he remembered the gold and silver dogs he made for King Aklino?s. Much like his automatons, they would guard on command, although Landyn will probably teach them to play fetch, Hephaestus thought fondly.

He would make the dogs. A pair of them to guard his new home, his new life, and in time, his new family. His heart was filled with love, hope, and a renewed sense of purpose as he called his supplies to hand and started to work.

It was some hours later when Hephaestus looked up, pleased with what he'd created. Looking over at the door, he saw the sun was shining, and Landyn was approaching the door, a coffee mug in one hand and a plate in the other, Charlie trailing his every step.

"I made you breakfast." Landyn's smile lit up the dimness of the workshop.

"Thank you. I made you puppies." Hephaestus laughed at his mate's delight. "Yes, you can name them."

"You've got your mojo back," Landyn said, putting the plate on the workbench and bringing over the coffee. "You have that urge to create again?"

Hephaestus nodded. It had been lost there for a while. Overworking in his studio with the cyclops hadn't helped and afterward, with finding the new house and worried about his mate, Hephaestus just hadn't had the heart Landyn claimed he put into his work.

But as he looked at the dogs he'd created in just a matter of hours, their shiny metal glistening in the sun, he knew his life was only going to get better with every passing day.

"Can they play with sticks or a ball?" Landyn asked, handing him his mug and then hugging him tightly around the waist, not minding for a second that Hephaestus was sweaty and grubby.

"I'm sure you can teach them, my mate. Just don't let them get on the furniture. I made them to guard our front door."

"They might get lonely there, when we're all in the house, and what about when it gets cold?"

They're going to be laying on the couch in a week. I can see it now. "We'll work it out, sweetling. We'll work it out."