I can’t stop shaking. I need to see Patroclus, to make sure he’s okay. The medics have him on a stretcher, and they move past me as they carry him out of the arena. I barely get a glimpse of his pale face before he’s gone.
The referees march the Minotaur out behind him. They keep looking at the big man as if they’re not sure whether he’ll leave peacefully. His words still ring in my ears. Figured you’d both come running when your little boyfriend was threatened. He used Patroclus to draw Achilles and me to him. Guilt has me in a choke hold.
If I’d been stronger…
If I’d eliminated the Minotaur before he had a chance to nearly kill Patroclus…
If…
Achilles limps toward the exit. He barely looks at me as he passes. I should give him space, should let him process what the fuck just happened. I haven’t processed what happened, so I can’t imagine he has.
But I can’t. Fear swamps me, stronger than I could have anticipated. “Achilles.”
He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t stop, doesn’t so much as slow down.
The feeling gets worse. “Achilles, talk to me.”
He barely hesitates. “You got what you wanted, Helen. Get that sad look off your face.” He’s still not looking at me, instead offering me his perfect profile. “Celebrate.”
The bottom of my stomach drops out. “Was it all bullshit? The talk of the future and keeping me?”
He shakes his head. “I have to go with Patroclus to the hospital. I’ll talk to you later.”
It doesn’t sound like a promise. He tosses out the words as if he’ll say whatever it takes to end this conversation. To end…this.
I don’t call his name again. I stand there and watch him walk away, taking a chunk of my heart with him. When did that happen? I’ve said from the beginning that we didn’t have a future. Not me and him. Not me and Patroclus. Certainly not the three of us. It doesn’t matter how well we meshed during the trials or the way they seemed to see me or…
A sob catches in my chest, but I refuse to release it. This is what I wanted, what I’ve fought so hard to accomplish. I’m realizing my dreams and ensuring all of Olympus is forced to take me seriously.
Achilles is right. I should be celebrating and doing a victory lap. I shouldn’t be standing here and trying not to cry.
Bellerophon appears at my side as if by magic, their expression carefully blank. “I need you to come with me, Ares.”
Ares.
I did it. I fucking won. No one can look at me and believe I’m just a pretty face, a pawn to be moved about the chessboard at the whim of those more powerful than I am. I should be elated and celebrating and riding a high unlike any other.
Instead, I just want to make sure Patroclus is okay, to talk to Achilles properly and have him reassure me that everything he said yesterday wasn’t just bullshit. That he really meant it now that we’re staring the future right in the face.
“Ares.”
I take a breath and try to calm my racing heart, to think. My actions have consequences: both entering the tournament and winning it. As much as I want to chase after Achilles and Patroclus until this awful gaping wound in my chest is healed, becoming Ares means I have responsibilities beyond my own personal needs.
My men will have to wait. Hopefully they’ll still be there for me after everything that’s happened.
I’ve barely let myself consider that they might actually be mine, and now it may very well be over. I close my eyes, take another breath, and when I open them, I have my game face on. I am Ares and I will not be underestimated.
I smile up at Bellerophon. “Lead the way.”
They don’t speak until we’ve entered one of the arches—a different one than we’ve been entering and exiting for the trials—and head up a flight of stairs. “There will be a formal event introducing you as Ares tonight, but the title was officially yours the moment you won the third trial.”
I can’t read anything in their tone about their thoughts on my winning. That’s just as well. Plenty of people will be pissed about it, and I need to get used to it. That doesn’t mean I can’t be gracious in this moment. “Thank you for hosting the champions. I know it wasn’t an easy duty.”
Bellerophon doesn’t comment on that. We take another set of stairs up. My adrenaline is still going strong, but I can already sense the crash coming. Too much, too quickly. This is exactly what I wanted, so I should be happy, right? I don’t understand this strange sense of loss that feels like someone wrapped me in a lead blanket and tossed me off a pier.
They open the door at the top of this flight of stairs and step back. “They’re waiting.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised to see my brother standing next to Athena. He might not have been visible in the box seat when she made the announcements, but he’s not the type to let something this important pass without witnessing it.
Perseus has on a charcoal-gray suit with a cream shirt underneath it. The only sign that he’s less than perfectly put together are the faint creases in his slacks that almost look like he was gripping the fabric in his fists like he used to when he was a child and trying not to react. But that’s ridiculous. Perseus hasn’t shown that kind of loss of control since our mother died. Longer, even.
Athena waits for the door to shut behind me to sigh. “Well, you fucked that right up, didn’t you?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s too late to worry about it now. You’re Ares, for better or worse.” She checks her phone. “I need to go check on my men.”
“Wait.” The word is out before I can call it back. “Is Patroclus going to be okay?”
Athena’s dark eyes flash, the only outward sign that she’s furious right now. “He’s on his way to the hospital now. The damage was too much for the medics to handle, so it’ll be up to the surgeon. They had damn well better save him.”
Save him. Because he might die.
“No.” Panic flares, strong enough to rock me back on my heels. I turn for the door. “I’m coming too.”
“Plant your feet, Ares,” she snaps. She waits for me to look at her again to continue. “You’re new to the Thirteen, so I’ll let that insult slide despite the fact that you should know better, being a Kasios. You are Ares now.” She speaks slowly, but it’s not patronizing. “I am Athena. Those men, Achilles and Patroclus? They’re my people, which means they’re my responsibility. Do not spend your first day as Ares stepping on my toes, or I’ll make you regret it.”
I open my mouth to argue but manage to hold the words back at the last minute. She’s right. It doesn’t matter what promises the men and I made… Except were they promises? They certainly sounded like it when Achilles spoke with such confidence, but that was before he brushed me off just now, before he walked away without looking back.
He’s never going to forgive you. It was a nice dream while it lasted, but it’s over now.
I inhale slowly. If I ignore Athena’s warning and show up at the hospital, there’s a decent chance neither of the men will want to see me. I don’t think they lied, exactly, but I know how quickly people stop saying what you want to hear when you stop giving them what they want.
Achilles thought he’d become Ares. When he made those promises, it was with the intent of me bending when all the chips were down. He never actually thought I had a chance of winning, and his confidence reflected that. Now that he’s lost his dream?
He won’t forgive me.
He certainly won’t play second fiddle to me being Ares.
I swallow hard. Would I feel differently if our positions were reversed? It’s easy to pretend I would have gotten over it and we’d dance our way to some happy little triad, but the loss of something I’ve wanted with every fiber of my being? I can’t say I’d be able to look him in the face, married or no.
When I speak, my tone is perfectly cordial, doing nothing to reflect the loss driving its roots deep into me. “Of course, Athena. My apologies.”
“Better.” She sweeps past me and out of the room.
I can see the storm brewing in Perseus’s blue eyes, and I want nothing more than to follow Athena out the door to avoid it, but I didn’t come this far to be cowardly when it counted. I got what I wanted, and that means facing down the consequences of my actions.
I’m one of the Thirteen now, after all. I lift my chin. “Zeus.”
“No. You don’t get to call me Zeus right now.” He drags his hands through his hair. “What the fuck, Helen? Do you know the trouble you’ve caused? I’ve been putting out fucking fires for the last week while you gallivanted around—”
“I’m going to stop you there.” I start to wrap my arms around myself but stop and straighten. “You don’t get to take the high road with me, Perseus. Yeah, I became a champion without talking to you first, but after I was fucking attacked, you didn’t even come by to see if I was okay.”
Immediately, he goes cold. Covering up messier emotions. We’re all such liars in my family, myself included. My brother finally says, “I had my reasons.”
“Do tell.” I wait, but he doesn’t seem inclined to share. Fine. I draw myself up. “As the new Ares, I will be taking that prisoner back. They’re key to discovering the responsible parties and ensuring no other attacks are leveled against other members of the Thirteen and their families. As Ares, that’s my specialty, and not even you can stop me.”
“They claimed diplomatic immunity.”
That pulls me up short. “Excuse me?”
“The attacker. They were one of Minos’s people.” He says it so casually, his tone belying the careful way he watches me as if I might spring into violence at any moment. “They weren’t a citizen of the city, and as such, Minos requested leave to be the one to exact punishment. He removed them from Olympus.”
I force myself not to react, to slow down long enough to piece out what he’s saying…and what he isn’t. “You can’t seriously believe that Minos had no knowledge of the attack. That doesn’t even make sense. What are the odds that one of his carefully selected people randomly decided to sneak into my room and try to kill me?”
“My hands are tied.”
“Why?” When he doesn’t immediately answer, I press. “You’re Zeus. You get to make the executive call when it comes to strangers in Olympus. There’s no reason they need to be here now that the title of Ares is filled. You don’t have to let them stay. Send them home.”
For a moment, Perseus looks so fucking tired that if we were a hugging family, I might try to hug him. It doesn’t last. His moments of weakness never do. He shakes his head and straightens his shoulders. “There are extenuating circumstances.” For a moment, I think he won’t continue, but he sighs. “I suppose you’ll be briefed on it officially tomorrow with the rest of the Thirteen. Minos brought news of a credible threat against Olympus. He wants to cut a deal in return for sharing that information.”
I snort. “Sounds like bullshit to me.”
“Yeah.” Perseus gives a ghost of a smile. “But because of the situation, I can’t make the call by myself. It will come to a vote on how to deal with him. If he’s telling the truth and does have details about this threat that are valuable… We can’t afford to turn it away.”
“But why? We’re separate from the rest of the world. What could he possibly offer that makes it worth the risk of allowing him to stay within the city limits?”
He looks out over the arena and then back to me. “The barrier is failing.”
I go still. “You’re shitting me.” I shake my head, stunned. “How? Why?”
“If I knew that, I could fix it. Or at least try.” He gives a ghost of a smile, but it fades quickly. “It’s easier to slip in and out than it was a generation ago, even a decade ago. We’ve worked hard to keep it quiet, so only the Thirteen and a few of Poseidon’s people know, but that won’t last for long. We can no longer guarantee that we’re protected from outside assault.”
True fear slices through me. This is big. Really big. If we have to go to war, a huge portion of the responsibility for soldiers and combat will rest on my shoulders, and as Achilles was quick to point out before, I have a steep learning curve ahead of me before I’m ready for something like that. “Perseus, surely there’s information in the archives about the barrier.” I’ve looked myself, but there are sections that only Apollo has access to, and he’s not the sharing type. He’d answer Zeus’s questions, though. He wouldn’t have a choice. “There’s—”
“We’ve been looking.” My brother shakes his head. “The records were destroyed at some point, and if there are backups, we can’t find them. It’s the first thing I tasked Apollo with when I took over.” His mouth twists. “Our father didn’t feel it was a high enough priority to investigate.”
“I had no idea,” I say faintly.
“We aren’t exactly advertising it.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I don’t know how long the barrier will last or if it will survive a full-on assault. No matter how distasteful the transaction, we can’t afford to refuse any potential information Minos has.” He meets my gaze. “Not even if I suspect him of being responsible for the attack on you.”
I want to be mad about that, but I can’t. I might not like being left in the dark, but I can’t deny that my brother is doing his best for Olympus. I swallow hard. “I see.”
“Like I said, we’ll discuss options in full in a few days when the entire Thirteen meets.”
It strikes me then, why this feels so different. “Dad never had the whole Thirteen meet. He just made executive decisions and expected everyone to fall in line.”
“I know.” Perseus looks away. “I’m not him, Helen. I might be a monster, but I’m Olympus’s monster. Everything I do, I do for this city and the people in it. We need the entire Thirteen unified if there’s an outside threat.” He pauses. “Will you stand with me?”
What kind of question is that? Except as I consider it, consider him, I realize I’m not a sure thing from Perseus’s view. He’s treated me like a piece to be moved about the board, has used and misused me. Our father preached loyalty to family above all else, but we both know it’s bullshit. Gods, Perseus hasn’t even given a proper apology, and as much as I love him, I know better than to hold my breath and wait for one. I could—should—hate my brother for what he’s done.
But this is Olympus.
We’re all monsters here.
Even monsters have to work together when threatened by an outside force. I’m sure Achilles… I stop the thought before it can reach completion. It doesn’t matter what Achilles would or wouldn’t do. I can’t make decisions based on his and Patroclus’s theoretical position in my life when it’s all but guaranteed they’ll never want to see me again.
Helen Kasios may have had time and space to mourn something like the loss currently residing deep inside me. Ares doesn’t. With the safety of Olympus in the balance, I will do my duty. “Yes,” I finally say. “I’ll stand with you.”
He nods and walks past me to the door, only to pause with his hand on the knob. “Helen.”
“Yes?”
“You being Ares fucks things up. It will make it harder to get some members of the Thirteen on our side. It makes our family look power-hungry and greedy, which complicates everyone’s life.”
The words sting, but I manage to keep a sarcastic reply internal. Mostly. “And?”
He glances over his shoulder. For a moment, the briefest blink, his eyes warm up and his smile is bright and sharp just like it used to be before our father beat every soft emotion out of him. “I’m proud of you. You were amazing out there.” He opens the door and walks out of the room before I can work though my shock to come up with an answer.
My brother is proud of me.
Maybe pigs will fly next.
Still not an apology. I shake my head. Apparently I can’t help wishing for the moon even when I’m getting everything I ever wanted. It’s exceedingly frustrating to have to keep reminding myself of that fact.
“I am Ares. I did it.” Even speaking it aloud does nothing to dispel the cloud of loss around me. The feeling in my throat gets worse. I press my hand there, as if the physical touch can do anything to alleviate the emotional. “Damn it.” I understand that Achilles was worried about Patroclus. I’m worried about Patroclus. But…couldn’t he have thrown me a single sentence of comfort? Something to convey that we would talk later rather than brushing me off?
I can’t go to him. Not without pissing off Athena, but even without her in play, it feels wrong to show up uninvited. If they don’t want to see me, it’s cruel to force them to.
Before I can take a step, the door flies open and Eris, Hermes, and Dionysus pour into the room, towing Eros and Psyche behind them. Dionysus sweeps me up into a hug and spins me around until I feel sick. “Ares! Look at you, little warrior!”
“Put her down before she barfs on you.” Eris barely lets my feet touch the ground before she takes my shoulders. “You are the biggest pain in the ass a big sister could be, but you were wonderful out there. The way you handled the maze! Eliminating the Minotaur!” She shakes her head. “Always an agent of chaos.”
“Always,” I say faintly.
I should be happy to see my friends. This is what I wanted, after all. We stand on the same level now. I’m no longer being left behind. I just…I didn’t expect the win to feel so hollow.
As Dionysus and Eris cut to the bar at the back of the box seat, Hermes and Psyche chat easily like old friends. This is what I wanted. This is everything I wanted. I’m Ares. Too bad it feels like I’m missing a limb.
“Hey.” Eros nudges me with his shoulder. He looks as good as always, for all that he’s dressed down in a pair of jeans and a knit sweater. His wife’s influence, no doubt. The obvious way they love each other makes my chest ache.
“Hey.” I try for a smile, but it wobbles around the edges.
He watches Psyche laugh at something Hermes says while Dionysus pours out six drinks. “Hermes told me a wild rumor a few days ago.” He says it so casually, voice pitched low to only carry to me. “She claims you’re hooking up with both Achilles and Patroclus.”
The wobble in my bottom lip gets worse despite myself. “I like them. For real. Maybe more than like.” I don’t know why I’m confessing to him. We’re friends, but some wounds are best kept hidden. I can’t quite seem to manage it in the face of his presence.
“Sometimes love comes at you fast.” His blue eyes warm when Psyche laughs again. She’s a pretty plus-sized white woman with excellent style and one of the savviest minds I’ve ever encountered. She plays it down and pretends she’s just a social-media influencer—all beauty and no brains—but she’s equally as dangerous as her mother, Demeter. I like her quite a bit. She makes my friend happy, and she’s given him a chance for real love for the first time in his life.
“You’ve got rose-tinted glasses on, Eros. What you have is rarer than red diamonds. Not everyone gets that.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “You won’t know until you try.”
You won’t know until you try.
Becoming Ares has complicated that. I can’t get to Patroclus and Achilles without stepping on Athena’s toes, and that isn’t an option. Not when it might mean a split Thirteen. My brother’s right; if there’s an outside threat, our petty rivalries shouldn’t stand in the way of an allied Thirteen. Unfortunately, I know too well how should doesn’t mean shit. I can’t threaten that. I can’t.
But Eros isn’t one of the Thirteen.
“Remember that time I banked a favor from you?” I wait for him to nod to continue. “I’d like to call it in now, please.”
“I’m listening.”
I shift closer and lower my voice. “Would you check on Patroclus? He was injured and I want to make sure he’s okay. I can’t do it without stepping on Athena’s toes, and she’ll never forgive me for starting out my time as Ares by fucking with her.”
Eros lifts his brows. “That all?”
Was that all? The cowardly part of me wants to leave it at that, but I’ve come this far. Maybe my feelings for my men will blow up in my face, but if I don’t try, then it definitely will. I drag in a breath. “And tell them…” Gods, why is it so hard to get this out? “Tell them that I still want that pretty future they painted. If they do, that is.”
He waits, but what else is there to say? That I think I might have gone straight past falling in love and into love itself? That I want Achilles’s wonderful and aggravating assurance at my back for whatever comes next, no matter how large or small? That I want Patroclus’s brilliant mind and stern determination to take care of us? Eros wouldn’t understand, and laying myself bare even this much is almost more than I can handle. “That’s all.”
He nods. “Do you want me to go now?”
The longer I have to wait for an answer, the worse it will be. Not just for what happens next. Patroclus has to be okay. He has to be. “Please.”
“Consider it done.” Eros slings an arm around my shoulders and pulls me into a brief hug. He kisses the top of my head. “You did well out there. Kicked a lot of ass.”
“Thanks.” I manage a smile this time, but barely. No matter what we said yesterday, there is no happily-ever-after guaranteed. Achilles believed with his whole heart that he would become Ares. How can he stand next to me when it will feel like he’s standing in my shadow? And Patroclus? No matter how strong our connection and history, he has a foundation-deep love with Achilles. If it becomes a choice between the two of us, it’s no choice at all. I would never ask that of him, either.
I inhale slowly and exhale just as slowly. I’m dirty and sweaty and exhausted, and all I want to do is go home and sleep for three days until this new world settles around me. That might have been an option for Helen, but it’s not an option for Ares.
I square my shoulders, paste a smile on my face, and head to join my sister and friends at the box-seat bar.
