Definitely not from Lydia, but he wasn’t about to say that to them. Neither of them needed to know his emotions. They were reserved solely for the woman who’d given her heart to him.

“Is it time?” Seth asked the god.

“Almost.” Maahes squinted at him as he studied his clothes. “You’re not actually wearing your hair like that, are you?”

Yeah, okay—that succeeded in making him nervous. “Why? I thought I’d tamed it.”

Maahes snorted. “Looks real good, Poindexter.”

“Poindexter?” Seth scowled at a reference that had no meaning to him.

Without answering, Maahes grabbed him and turned him away from the mirror so that he could tug at Seth’s hair.

Seth tried to pull away, but Maahes wouldn’t let him. Then he tried to fend the obnoxious god off. “What are you doing?”

“Put your hands down.”

Like hell.

“What in the world is going on here?”

Seth pushed Maahes back at the sound of Ma’at’s voice. The Egyptian god of justice and balance, she was so tiny she barely reached the middle of Seth’s chest. Her caramel skin glowed with the warmth of her powers and made her green eyes sparkle. An amused sparkle that danced as she watched them.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

Maahes flicked at one of Seth’s traitorous curls. “I’m trying to make this dark auburn bush that functions as his hair semi-attractive for his bride.”

Ma’at arched a brow. “That is not attractive.”

Seth turned to look in the mirror. He’d had his hair kind of smoothed down before Maahes had arrived. Now it stuck out all over his head like Asmodeus’s.

Great, I look like I’ve been given electroshock treatments.

His former owner would be pleased, indeed.

“I wasn’t through with it,” Maahes said defensively.

Tsking at them, Ma’at came forward to speak to Seth. “Come here, child.”

Seth’s first instinct was to glare, but he’d slowly learned over the last few months that Ma’at and Maahes weren’t his enemies.

They were his family. After all these long centuries, he really did have one.

He still couldn’t believe it.

That had been the hardest adjustment for him in this modern, mortal world. Forcing himself to remember that not everyone wanted to hurt him. Not everyone took pleasure in his agony. That there really were people in the world who could love him and not cause him harm.

Smiling, Ma’at patted him gently on the arm. “You’ll have to sit or kneel, Seth. I can’t reach your hair from here.”

Her powers and personality were such that it was easy to forget just how tiny she really was.

Seth knelt down so that she could quickly style his hair.

Once she finished, he rose and went to look at it. The curls were all over his head again. Repulsed by the sight, he reached to straighten it.