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I did not come this far only to fail now.
I fight against my exhausted muscles, fight against gravity itself, to pull my body up another six inches. It won’t be enough. They’re too tall. They reach the bottom of the rope and jump, grabbing my ankle. The contact almost rips me right off the rope. I slide down a few inches with a shriek that the screams of the crowd swallow up. Another yank rips me clean off the rope.
The platform rushes up to meet me, and I land flat on my face. It hurts. Fuck, it hurts. But if I stay down, I’ll be eliminated, and that isn’t an option. I stagger to my feet, the arena spinning wildly around me. The crowd sounds like a feral beast baying for blood. They want to see me fail. Everyone wants to see me fail.
On the other side of the rope, Athena’s person is climbing to their feet as well. They still don’t look steady, but if they’re anything like Achilles and Patroclus, that won’t make them less dangerous. I’ll only get one shot at this.
I don’t stop to think about all the things that could go wrong. There’s no time for that. I take two quick steps and leap, grabbing the rope. It’s too heavy to swing much, but my momentum works in my favor. I straighten my legs just as my feet make contact with their chest. The impact nearly takes me off the rope again, but it sends them flying off the platform.
There’s no time to savor my victory. I haven’t won yet. Fuck, I haven’t even passed the first challenge yet. A quick glance at the clock has panic seizing me. If I fall again, I won’t get another chance.
Fear gives me strength. I haul myself up, hand over hand, with a speed I would have thought impossible. This time, no one assists me as I reach the final platform and scramble onto it. I look at the clock, barely daring to believe it. I did it. I’m here.
I passed the first trial.
You didn’t do it on your own. You needed help, and everyone saw that you weren’t strong enough.
The voice sounds horrifyingly like my father. I shudder, my chest going tight and throat trying to close. It doesn’t matter that I needed help. I won’t let it matter, even if it means I have to go above and beyond the next time.
All that matters is that I passed this trial, so there will be a next time.
I stretch my arms overhead and concentrate on breathing through the ache in my body. Easier to focus on that than the tumultuous emotions running riot inside me. I force myself to look around and take stock of those on the platform around me. Atalanta is nearby, looking barely winded. From the third route, there are ten people who passed the first trial, among them Hector, Paris, the two strangers…and Achilles and Patroclus.
Despite myself, my attention narrows on the latter two. Of course they made it. I doubt they needed help, either. Even more irritatingly, they both have a fine sheen of sweat on their skin and the sign of exertion only makes them both more attractive. A traitorous little zing jolts my body, and I force myself to look away.
Up to this point, I’ve done my best not to think about what happened yesterday. I can’t believe things got so out of control. I never would have slept with Achilles if I wasn’t already reeling from the events of the last couple of days. If he hadn’t tossed me over his shoulder like I truly was some princess a conquering knight happened across and ripped from her safe tower. If he hadn’t essentially offered himself as the perfect target. Someone to take all my ugly emotions out on without having to worry about the aftermath. I highly doubt I can do a single thing to hurt that man, either emotionally or physically.
He might not have been the safe choice of an outlet, but I can’t deny that he was the perfect one all the same. He took my blows and let me provoke him to do exactly what we both wanted. To fuck me like he hated me. Except…it didn’t entirely feel like that.
I know what it’s like to have sex with someone who hates you. Paris proved that toward the end of our relationship. He hurt me on purpose. Never physically, of course. He’s a gentleman. But he spilled poison into my ear when I was most vulnerable, when my barriers weren’t as strong as normal.
Gods, Helen, if you’re not going to do it right, you can leave and I’ll do it myself.
Sorry that you didn’t come, honey. You’re so damn hard to please.
You keep acting like I’m the problem. Have you ever thought that you’re the only one with an issue in this relationship?
