Wicked Beauty (Dark Olympus 3)

“Dangerous,” Patroclus murmurs.

“Yeah.” I wait for them to move to the side before Patroclus and I step forward. I can’t help looking at Helen again as Patroclus speaks the words to become a champion. She’s doing a shit job of masking her expression, and I hate the sympathy that I feel in response. She obviously didn’t choose this. Fuck, she obviously didn’t know about it before Zeus made his announcement. This woman is nothing to me, but when I win the title Ares—and I will win—I’ll ensure she’s not mistreated. After the wedding, I don’t care what she does or who she fucks around with as long as she stays away from me and Patroclus. It’s a better deal than she’ll get from anyone else.

Then it’s my turn to speak, and I shove all thoughts of Helen effortlessly away. “I’m Achilles Kallis, and I’m willing to sacrifice it all.”

Athena doesn’t smile, but approval warms her dark eyes. It’s about as effusive as she gets, and it makes me feel a little strange in response. I’m not someone who needs outside approval for validation, but I respect the fuck out of Athena, and her opinion matters to me.

She waits several long moments, but no one else steps forward. She lifts her voice to be heard in every corner of the room. “The deadline for putting your name forward is dawn. Best of luck.”

The lights brighten slowly, signaling the end of the pageantry. The party will go on for hours, but our reason to be here is over. I turn to Patroclus. “Let’s go.”

For a second, it seems like he might argue, but finally he nods and turns with me for the door. People get out of our way. I’ve been to these kinds of parties a handful of times in the years since I was promoted to Athena’s second-in-command, but she prefers to keep her people out of the viper’s nest. Her words, not mine. I don’t see the big deal, but then I’m not one to be swayed by a pretty face or prettier words. I know my fate.

I hold the door open for Patroclus, and we exit into the long hallway leading to the elevator down. He’s got that look on his face, and I inwardly roll my eyes. “Tell me you’re not worried about that golden princess.”

“I feel bad for her.” He shrugs, completely unashamed of his bleeding heart. “It can’t be that comfortable being so close to so many members of the Thirteen. Her life was never her own, not even from birth.”

This time, I can’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. “Right. Poor little princess, born into the richest family in the city, having everything she could ever dream of at the tips of her fingers. She’s never had to fight for a single thing in her life. Not like me. Not like you.”

“That’s not entirely true, at least for me. If things had fallen out differently, I’d be Aphrodite’s son.”

“It’s different.”

“If you say so.” Another shrug. “I don’t have the same ambition you do, Achilles. Working for Athena is just a job for me. It always has been.”

I love the man, but sometimes I really don’t understand him. If you’re not fighting for something, you’re going to get used as a stepping-stone for the people who are. Patroclus is one of the most brilliant people I know, but he’s too soft. Without me to watch his back, he would have been fucked over dozens of times since we met each other as teenagers.

Then again, without me in his life, I don’t think he’d be in Athena’s special forces. With his love of knowledge and research, he might have gravitated to Apollo’s businesses the same way Hector did.

Something like guilt slaps me in the face, but I shove it away. When I’m Ares, Patroclus will be free to do whatever he damn well pleases. With that much power at my disposal, that many resources, he won’t have to work at all if he doesn’t want to.

I sling an arm around his shoulders and press a quick kiss to his temple. “Don’t worry so much. When I’m Ares, I’ll take care of both of us.” I grin. “Fuck, I’ll take care of Helen, too, if that will make you feel better.” Even if she is a spoiled brat.

3

Helen

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I dig my fingers into the fabric of my dress. It’s do that or punch my brother in his infuriatingly square jaw. No matter how satisfying it would be, I can’t risk injuring my hand. Not if I want to be Ares. Except how the fuck can I be Ares when Patroclus named me Ares’s wife? “You made me a prize to be won! Married off to a stranger! Without even talking to me.”

I managed to hold it together until the party wrapped up and a small group of us ended up in Perseus’s office—me, Perseus, Eris, and Callisto. Me, Zeus, Aphrodite, and Hera. Perseus sits behind his large desk, looking bored with my theatrics. Eris has one hip perched on the desk and is smiling in a way I really don’t like. I love my siblings. I do. But I can never forget that they’re focused on power and ambition before all else. They always have been, even before they became members of the Thirteen. It’s how we were raised, after all.