Wicked Beauty (Dark Olympus 3)

Besides, I’m certain Callisto’s motivation was simply to stir the pot and cause trouble, even if she indirectly helped me in the process. If Perseus finds out his wife prodded me into this action, it will cause even more drama. No matter her reasons, Callisto did me a favor by snapping me out of my self-pity spiral. I won’t out her. “No one twisted his arm and forced a ring on his finger.” Not like he’s done to me.

“You’d be surprised.” She finishes another braid. “Will you hear the message?”

As if I have a choice. “Yes.”

She clears her throat, and a startling approximation of my brother’s deeper voice emerges from her lips. “You’ve had your fun. It’s over now. Resign before the next trial.”

I wait, but she seems to be finished. “That’s it? Normally he likes to threaten some kind of consequence.”

Hermes shrugs. “He’s a little distracted. The Minotaur and Theseus didn’t come to Olympus alone, and your brother has his hands full dealing with the leader of their little group, Minos.”

Easy enough to read between the lines. Their leader is here, watching me make a fool of my brother and the rest of the Thirteen. It’s undermining Zeus’s authority and doing the exact thing he doesn’t want—making us look weak. More like making him look weak.

Olympus needs a firm hand.

A sliver of regret goes through me. I might want to wring my brother’s neck right now, but even I can admit he’s likely doing the best he can in circumstances not of his own making. He hadn’t thought to take over the title of Zeus for years yet, but our father’s unexpected death changed the whole timeline. I do want Olympus safe and stable.

Maybe I should resign.

My stomach clenches at the thought, but I force myself to consider it. If I resign now… I shake my head. It won’t help. The damage was already done the moment I put my name forward and defied my brother publicly. More, now that I’m directly competing with the Minotaur and Theseus, I can’t afford to do anything but put on a good showing. I’m representing Olympus against their outsiders’ interests. I’m representing my brother, even if he’s furious about it.

I’m a Kasios, after all.

Humiliating me means humiliating him. Resigning now is weak, and it will make him appear weak. He’s not thinking clearly or he’d have realized that on his own. I take a deep breath. “Backing out now won’t change the fact that I participated in the first place. It won’t suddenly make him look better.”

“I don’t know that Zeus is thinking clearly at the moment,” Hermes says, mirroring my thoughts.

I suspect she’s right, but I won’t talk shit about my brother right now, not when he’s in a precarious position and I’m partly to blame. Instead I laugh, loud and giddy and fake. “Sure. As if he’s ever let emotions get the best of him even once in his life.” Even as the lie flies free, guilt pricks. Perseus wasn’t an effusive child, but he felt everything very deeply. Our father saw it as a flaw, a weakness to be exploited by future enemies, and spent most of our childhood carving that softness out of my brother, piece by piece.

Hermes considers me for a long moment, and I find myself holding my breath. I might have been friends with her for years, but in this moment, we stand almost as equals: her one of the Thirteen, me a contender for being a member of the Thirteen as well. She finishes a braid and sits back. “Are you sure about this?”

“Please inform my brother that while I appreciate his request, I’m seeing this through.”

“Will do.” Hermes pats Dionysus’s chest. “Time to go, love.”

He opens his eyes, blinking at me. “Hey, Helen. When did you get here?”

“Hey.” I manage a tired smile. “Have a nice nap?”

“Always do.” He sits up and stretches. The little braids in his hair give him the look of a startled bird. “Good show on the obstacle course. We’re rooting for you.”

“Thanks.” I don’t know what else to say. These are my friends, but if—when—I win this tournament, the dynamic of our relationship will have to change. I’ll be one of the Thirteen, too. I wave a tired hand at them. “Are you sticking around?”

“Nope.” Hermes jumps to her feet. “The night is young, and we’re off to have fun.”

Dionysus takes my hands and presses a kiss to each of my cheeks. “She means we’re off to get some of Minos’s people drunk and see what information we can mine from them.”

That pulls a laugh from me. “All in a day’s work.” I don’t tell them to be careful. Despite outward appearances, both Dionysus and Hermes are more than capable of taking care of themselves. And each other. Beyond that, this is part of Dionysus’s specialty. He might play the fool in public, but he didn’t win his title by accident. He’s got a cunning mind behind that ridiculous mustache.