Wicked Beauty (Dark Olympus 3)

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.”