Wicked Beauty (Dark Olympus 3)

I stare. “You’re trying to cause trouble.”

“Olympus is nothing but trouble.” Something dangerous shifts through her tone. She’s not entirely wrong, but that doesn’t mean she’s right, either. Her mother, Demeter, won the title and brought her daughters into the city proper a little over ten years ago. In that time, Callisto has made her derision of everything connected with the Thirteen known. Before she married my brother, she didn’t show up for parties. She didn’t play the game. She was always willing to step to the line and fight, no matter the opponent.

Now that she’s officially become Hera, I don’t know what to make of her.

I cross my arms over my chest and try to calm my racing heart. No matter how dangerous she seems, she’s just a woman, and I’ve been playing this game longer than she’s been in the city proper. I inject some false cheer into my voice. “It’s really sweet that you’re trying to be a supportive sister-in-law, but I am not about to become a pawn in whatever game you and my brother have going on.”

Callisto gives me a long look, her hazel eyes downright predatory. “This has nothing to do with your brother.”

“Lovely. Now I have some snake oil I’d love to sell you. It’s great for the skin. Practically a fountain of youth.”

Her lips curve. “Regardless of my motivations, we’re talking about you. Is there some rule that says you can’t be both prize and champion?”

I consider her. Despite my better instincts, I’m thinking her words through. “I’d have to check, but probably not. They don’t have a rule against it because I doubt it would have occurred to anyone to even attempt it.” I hate to lend any strength to Eris’s doubt in me, but… “You’ve seen the people who stepped forward. That’s a lot to combat.”

Callisto shrugs. “If you were planning on making an attempt for Ares, you already intended to fight them and come out on top.”

She’s not wrong, but it still sounds like a trap. It’s just…I’m not sure I care. If I compete and win, I knock out two birds with one stone. I become Ares and successfully dodge being married to someone I don’t know. Despite myself, I picture Paris’s smarmy face leering at me as he stepped forward earlier. Or being married to that man. I dodged that fate once and I’m determined to do it again.

Still, one thing doesn’t add up. I carefully wrap up my growing excitement and inject coolness into my tone. “Again, what do you have to gain from suggesting I do this?”

Another shrug. “Maybe I have a thing against people being forced into marriages they didn’t choose. Maybe I want to live vicariously through you because I would have competed to be Ares if I weren’t already Hera. Maybe I want to stick it to my lovely husband in any way I can. My reasonings really don’t matter, do they?” Again, that predator’s smile. “You want to compete, Helen? Do it. All those fuckers who think you’re just a pretty prize to be won? Prove them wrong.”

It feels like she fired an arrow right into the very heart of me. I can’t trust this woman, sister-in-law or no. But…that doesn’t mean her idea is without merit. “You really hate my brother, don’t you?”

“I hate all of the Thirteen.”

“You are one of the Thirteen.” Even if Hera has become a weakened title since my father became Zeus. Over the course of his three wives—three Heras—he stripped the title of what influence it had until it became nothing more than an empty term for Zeus’s spouse.

“Yes. I am.”

The door opens and Perseus steps back into the room. His gaze jumps from me to his wife and back again. “There you are.”

Her smile is downright poisonous. “Just having some girl talk with Helen.”

He doesn’t comment on that, which is just as well. “It’s time to leave, Hera.”

“Of course, Zeus.” The words seem polite enough, but fury lurks in their edges. She turns to me. “Congratulations on your pending nuptials, Helen. I’m sure you’ll make a lovely piece of arm candy for the next Ares.”

I watch her stalk across the room toward my brother, and the small hairs at the back of my neck rise. This woman is more predator than most of the Thirteen, and I can’t shake the feeling that Perseus is going to greatly regret marrying her. For his part, he turns easily and places his hand at the small of her back. Always worried about appearances, my brother, even when no one else is here to witness the lie except me.

I follow them out of the office, and we take the elevator down to the parking garage. Only when we’ve walked well out of hearing range of the guard near the door does Perseus speak. “Do not, under any circumstances, take action to endanger this process. Promise me, Helen.”