I suspect they’re transferring the champions out of the city proper, just like Patroclus predicted, and we’re proven correct when the doors open to reveal several large buildings surrounded by trees. In the distance, I can hear the soft sound of the ocean, confirming that we’re on the coast just north of the agriculture district. If we kept moving west, we’d hit the farmland Demeter oversees.
Ajax huffs out a breath as he hauls his big body out of the van. He hasn’t stopped talking since we sat down, which is pure Ajax. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to gag him to get some peace and quiet. He whistles under his breath as he takes in the area. “Tall walls.”
I follow his gaze. Sure enough, I can just see walls that have to be ten feet tall cutting through the trees. They’ll encompass the entire property, serving to provide both safety and privacy to the champions. There will be interviews and shit at some point, likely after the second challenge when the weaker champions have been eliminated and there are only a few left. The thought makes my shoulders tense. I can fake it, and fake it well, when I need to, but there’s a reason Athena doesn’t put me on missions where I have to tiptoe around sensitive personalities.
I’m a human wrecking ball. Patroclus is the political one. He always knows the right step to take, the right thing to say.
Patroclus…and the person walking toward us right now. Bellerophon is tall with warm brown skin and a head of thick black curls. They rank higher than me in the shooting range but lower than me in hand-to-hand combat. I can pin them nine times out of ten, but they’re squirrelly despite their long limbs.
They’re also a friend, not that that matters right now.
Bellerophon stops in front of our ragtag group. “Ground rules.” Their voice is smooth and deep. “You will be assigned individual rooms in the three available dorms. Fraternize if you want, but do not try to harm any of your fellow champions. Doing so results in an instant disqualification. Trying to leave this property without prior authorization will result in an instant disqualification.” They meet each of our gazes in turn. “Do we have an understanding?”
There are various grunts and muttered assents in response, which seem to satisfy Bellerophon. “Each room has a schedule for mealtimes and open gym times, as well as a map of the common area. If you need something for your training that we don’t have on hand, we’ll see about getting it. First trial is the day after tomorrow, so you’ll be expected to keep yourself entertained in the meantime without becoming a pain in my ass.” They turn and head for the front door. “Let’s get you to your assigned rooms.” They point at the two people at their back. “You, take the right third. You, the middle. Everyone on the left, come with me.” They sweep their hand to encompass me, Patroclus, Helen, and another six people.
It’s highly absurd to have a bunch of large warriors following Bellerophon like little ducklings. Well. A bunch of warriors…and Helen Kasios.
Even being warned ahead of time by Patroclus, it was still a shock to see her show up like that. I thought for sure she’d get cold feet and back out. What’s a pampered princess going to be able to do against these competitors? She’s not like Atalanta. Atalanta is one of Artemis’s people. The woman is a scrapper and she’s fiercely competitive. She’s not one to underestimate.
Helen?
That’s a different story altogether.
“Stop glaring,” Patroclus murmurs.
I turn my glare at him instead. We’re not exclusive by any means; we never have been. What we have works for us and I’m not exactly eager to change it… But I can’t help my mixed feelings about how close he came to saying yes to Helen last night. He’s not one to be ruled by his emotions and baser lusts, and he almost threw caution to the wind and acted against both our best interests to get a chance to take her to bed. That makes her dangerous in a way that has nothing to do with combat.
“Stop staring at Helen’s ass,” I mutter right back.
He lifts his brows, his silent censure making me even snarlier. Patroclus holds the door open for me and follows me into the dim interior of the dorm. I barely notice the expensive furnishings and the tasteful color scheme. All I can see is the golden sway of Helen’s hips and ass as she walks in front of us. Surely she’s putting a little more swing in each step to torment me in revenge for that little stunt I pulled with the podium.
I’m not going to apologize for it. I saw an opportunity and I took it. Simple as that. There’s really nothing else to say.
“Achilles, control yourself.”
Normally, I embrace Patroclus’s calming effect. Right now, I kind of want to shove him into a room and fuck him until I’m all he can think of, instead of a certain spoiled princess. Gods, I’m fucked in the head over this. I thought last night would be the worst of it, when shock tangled up with jealousy and made my head spin. Apparently I was wrong. I should be concentrating on what comes next and mentally preparing, but all I can think about is those two together.
It would be quite the sight. Fuck, if she was anyone else, I’d make a case for Patroclus and her allowing me to watch…maybe to participate a bit, too. But she isn’t anyone else.
She’s Helen Kasios.
Precious princess of Olympus.
Sister to both Zeus and Aphrodite. Future wife of the next Ares.
Fucking her is out of the question. Getting near her at all is out of the question, a fact that complicates the current situation because someone is going to knock her out of the competition, which means there will be bad blood between her and whoever that may be. It can’t be me. Fuck, it can’t be Patroclus, either, because he’s a permanent fixture in my life and will be even after I become Ares. Creating animosity between her and either of us is a terrible idea.
She’s put every single champion in a truly shitty position, and she doesn’t seem to care. Which just lines up with what I know about her. Selfish, pampered princess. She decided she didn’t want to be the prize, so she threw a tantrum and entered the competition herself, despite being outmatched and outgunned. She has no fucking chance of winning. Frankly, it pisses me off.
She pisses me off.
“Stop glaring,” Patroclus repeats.
“No one here to see it.”
Bellerophon turns down a series of halls to one that has three offshoots. They point to the first one. “Three people in here. Room choice is up to you, but don’t get precious about it.” We all wait for those three to peel off and head down the short hall to the pair of doors on either side and then walk to the second hallway. “Three more.”
It happens so quickly. They peel off and then there’s just three of us left. Me. Patroclus. Helen. Fuck.
“Last three.”
Helen doesn’t look at any of us, marching down the hallway. I hate how gorgeous she is. Her short golden dress seems designed to catch every ray of light, molding to her athletic body and giving a truly excellent view of her round ass. If I remember correctly, she used to be a gymnast or some shit like that. Looking at her body, I believe it.
A day ago, I’d have said my attraction to her isn’t a bad thing. I plan to marry the woman, after all. Attraction is near enough to liking someone that we could have made something work.
Now I’m not so sure.
Helen glances over her shoulder, lifting her brows when I jerk my gaze to her face. “This one’s mine.” She opens the middle door and steps inside, closing it with a click that feels final. Did she choose that room so she’d share a wall with both of us? I highly doubt it. No matter how pretty her smile, she’s obviously not that savvy if she’s here in the first place.
Bellerophon crosses their arms over their chest. “Is this rooming arrangement going to be a problem?”
“No,” I answer quickly. Too quickly.
They give me a long look. “I wasn’t aware you have history with Helen.”
“I don’t. We don’t.” I don’t give a fuck if Patroclus used to be sandbox playmates with her. That was a long time ago and it’s ancient history now. He feels no loyalty to her. “This is fine.”
“It is fine.” Patroclus shakes his head. “The room arrangements change nothing.”
That’s the problem; my man had a plan and nowhere in that plan did it include us competing against Helen herself. Knowing Patroclus, he needs some quiet time to get his thoughts in order and figure out an updated strategy. He thinks best when I’m not “hovering” as he calls it.
I nod. “I’ll be over in a bit.”
“Achilles.” He holds my gaze. “Don’t do anything impulsive.”
I laugh and put on my most charming smile. “Me? Impulsive? Never.”
“Uh-huh.” Patroclus shakes his head and walks to the door on the right, disappearing through it.
Once he’s gone, I turn to Bellerophon. “Athena around?”
“No.” They prop their hands on their hips. “Even if she were, she doesn’t answer to you and she has her own reasons for allowing Helen to participate. It’s too late to do anything about it but move forward. Keep your eye on the ball, Achilles. We’re all rooting for you.”
Of course they were. Having me as Ares would create a new peace between Ares and Athena that hasn’t existed in decades. By the nature of the two titles’ responsibilities, as often as they work together, they’re also competing for the same resources. Ares holds the security forces that most of the Thirteen utilize and Athena heads up the special forces. Both answer directly to Zeus, and the last Zeus liked to play them against each other. This one promises to rule with a more even hand, but having one of Athena’s former people as Ares would smooth the way even more.
“I’ll get it done.” I nudge their shoulder. “I’m the best, after all.”
“Yeah, yeah.” They snort. “Get some rest and try to stay out of trouble.” Bellerophon hesitates. “And keep an extra eye on the Minotaur and Theseus. They seem like trouble.”
“I think so, too.” We don’t get a lot of outsiders in Olympus by nature of the difficulty to pass in and out of the city. A barrier wraps the city and surrounding area, large enough to encompass the farmland Demeter oversees and ensure the people are fed. I’ve never gotten a solid answer on why Poseidon and a select few of his people are able to pass back and forth freely. Patroclus has his theories and it has to do with bloodlines, but that shit is above my pay grade. For better or worse, Olympus is where I was born and it’s where I will make my mark. I couldn’t give a shit about the rest of the world outside it.
I eye the door Helen disappeared through. I need to have a conversation with the little princess. The glance I shoot at Patroclus’s door isn’t quite guilty, but I can’t help feeling it as I lightly rap on Helen’s door. He told me to behave, and I’m pretty damn sure he wouldn’t approve of the conversation I’m about to have.
If there’s even a chance I can get Helen to resign as champion, I should try. It’s better for everyone if she’s not competing—even her. Patroclus would agree with that reasoning… Probably.
Helen opens the door but doesn’t move out of the way. She also doesn’t seem surprised to see me. “Achilles.”
“We should talk.” There. That’s nice and neutral.
She considers me for a long moment before finally stepping back and holding open the door. “You should know, if you try something, I will make you regret it.”
I’m careful not to brush against her smaller body as I step into the room. I’m a big guy, and I’m not ashamed to say I’ve used my size to intimidate people in the past. It was part of my job, after all, but that’s not what I’m here for right now. Even knowing that, my mouth gets away from me. “What are you going to do, princess? Stomp on my foot with one of those spike heels? That won’t slow down any warrior who’s worth a damn.”
“Hmm.” Helen shuts the door and leans against it, considering me. It almost looks as if she’s measuring me up as an opponent. “Spike heels can do plenty of damage against other parts of your body.” She gives my hips a pointed look.
That surprises a laugh out of me. “I’d like to see you try it.”
“Don’t tempt me with a good time.”
This interaction isn’t going at all like I expected. The precious princess of Olympus should have swooned at the first hint of a threat, no matter how veiled. This woman looks like she’s all too willing to follow through on her threat and sink one of those impressive heels into my fleshy bits.
I shift closer to her despite myself. “You think you can take me.”
“Baby, I know I can.” Helen meets me halfway, planting her feet and almost daring me to close the last bit of distance between us. She looks me up and down, and I don’t think I imagine the lick of heat in her amber eyes. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”
“As if I couldn’t squash you with one arm tied behind my back.” What the fuck am I doing? Threatening this woman? It’s not even that she’s a woman. I don’t believe in that stereotypical bullshit about considering women noncombatants when they are obviously more than capable of being dangerous enemies. Anyone who underestimates Athena barely lives long enough to regret it.
I just didn’t expect to find an enemy in this woman. If that’s even what she is. Enemy feels like a strong word, but what else do I call her? She wants to snatch away the thing I desire most in this world, the title I’ve spent my entire life chasing. Enemy is the only label that does her justice.
Helen licks her lips. “Prove it.”
I plant one hand on the door next to her head. The new position has me leaning down over her, and even as a voice that sounds a whole lot like Patroclus whispers that this is a mistake, that we promised to stay away from her, I can’t seem to trigger my brakes. “You’re not going to win this tournament, princess. You’re not going to become the next Ares. Fuck, you’re probably not going to get past the first trial. This little rebellion of yours is cute but ultimately meaningless. Your fate is to stand up on that podium and greet your new spouse when they emerge victorious.” I grin. “Greet me when I step forward as the new Ares.”
If I wasn’t watching her so closely, I would miss the way she flinches the tiniest bit. Something like guilt tries to clamp around my chest, but I ignore it. There’s more at stake than this woman’s feelings. “Leave. Go back to your fancy penthouse and pretty dresses. You’re going to get hurt if you stay here.”
Helen leans back against the door, easing another inch of distance between us, though her hair brushes my thumb and I have the most ridiculous urge to move my hand a little closer to make it happen again. She lifts her chin, somehow managing to look down her nose at me despite being far shorter. “Are you going to hurt me, Achilles?”
“I don’t want to.” It’s the truth. I take no joy in smashing opponents clearly physically weaker than me. I also can’t afford to be precious about my honor right now, not with the stakes so high. “But yeah, I will.”
She narrows those pretty eyes. “And Patroclus. Do you think he’ll hurt me?”
No need to be a genius to read between those lines. I lean down until I’m right in her face, being a total dick about our size differences. “Leave him alone, princess. I don’t give a fuck if you used to know him. You don’t anymore. He’s not like us. He feels too fucking much, and you’ll break his soft damn heart if you brush against him carelessly.” Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that, either. I straighten. “I mean it, Helen. Leave him the fuck alone.”
She gives me a slow smile that has alarm bells ringing through my head. “He told you about last night, didn’t he?”
“What’s that have to do with anything?”
“Achilles.” She shakes her head like I’m a child who’s disappointed her. “Baby, you sound jealous. If your relationship—your non-exclusive relationship—with Patroclus is so strong, who cares if I fuck him until he forgets his name?” Her expression goes almost contemplative. “Maybe I’ll fuck him until he forgets your name. That would be quite the trick.”
“Stay the fuck away from him, Helen.”
She presses a hand to my chest, pushing until I retreat a step and then another. Helen uses the new distance to open the door. “This was a nice chat, Achilles. We should do it again sometime.”
A clear dismissal, and one without a promise to stay away from Patroclus or resign from the tournament. I might laugh if I weren’t so frustrated. She managed to run circles around me. She’s also right; I’m fucking jealous of the fact she made a pass at Patroclus last night. More, she got to him and turned his head.
It’s only when I’ve stepped into my room and shut the door between me and the rest of the world that I can admit I don’t know who I’m more jealous of.
Helen, for trying to sleep with Patroclus.
Or Patroclus for having the chance to take Olympus’s precious princess to bed.
