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“That’s naive, don’t you think?”

I stare. She’s not being snarky. She’s asking a serious question. “There’s always another way.”

“Even if there’s another way, sometimes it’s easier to be the bad guy and save yourself the trouble in the future.” She doesn’t look away. “You’re very smart. You must have played out all the scenarios. If I make it to the final trial, whoever eliminates me will earn my enmity forever. If it’s you or Achilles, that will endanger your ability to act effectively as Ares. Surely you’ve considered this.”

I have. I don’t know why it’s surprising that she has as well. She’s more than proven herself to be as intelligent as she is ambitious. It’s still strange to have my own thoughts mirrored back at me. I clear my throat. “There’s always another way,” I repeat.

“But—”

“Go to sleep, Helen. I’m sure Bellerophon will have information tomorrow.”

For a second, she looks like she might argue with me, but she finally drops the blanket and crawls up to climb under the covers. Her black pajama set is… Holy fuck, I shouldn’t be staring, but I can’t stop. The sleep shorts are split up the sides to reveal tantalizing glimpses of her hips. And that tank top barely covers the essentials, riding up to reveal her toned stomach and pressing tightly enough to her breasts that they’re in danger of escaping. She’s not trying to be seductive, and yet seduction is there in every move she makes.

I jerk my gaze away. What the fuck am I doing? Ogling her after she’s just had a traumatic experience. Ogling her after she slept with Achilles. Ogling her when she’s not for me, has never been for me.

“Patroclus?”

The tentativeness in her tone brings me back to myself. I give myself a shake and cautiously look at her. Thankfully, Helen is fully covered now, the blankets pulled up to her pointed chin. I breathe what I hope is a soundless sigh of relief. “Yeah?”

“The bed is huge and you’re making me nervous standing there. Can you sit or lie down or something?”

I almost choose the chair by the window. I even take a step in that direction before my brain decides to provide all the reasons Helen might have suggested I take the bed, too. I discard the ridiculous ones—she intends to ambush me, or she intends to seduce me. The most likely motivation is because she’s still scared out of her mind and my proximity would be a comfort.

I try not to look into the request. She’s already proven herself to be intelligent and strategic. It’s logical that she would believe one of Athena’s people wouldn’t want her dead, even a fellow champion. That’s all.

Still… “Are you sure?”

She nods and reaches a pale arm out to pat the bed next to her. “Please.”

I gingerly sit on the indicated spot and inch back to lean against the headboard. The bed is plenty big enough for both of us and probably Achilles too… I pause. No. Following that thought to its inevitable conclusion is a mistake. Even so, it surprises me when Helen scoots over until she’s nearly pressed against me. I’m over the covers and she’s under them, but I can feel the heat coming off her body. Or maybe that’s the overactive imagination I seem to be developing on the spot.

I clear my throat, desperate to focus on anything but the fact that Helen Kasios and I are in a bed together. I am on bodyguard duty. The only thing I should be thinking about is keeping her safe, not how good she looks in her sexy little pajamas.

In desperation, I say the only thing I can think of. “Who would want you dead?”

“I can think of a few people.” Did she inch closer? I can’t be certain. I can’t see her face properly in the deep shadows cast from the lamp behind the bed. “No one’s really happy I’m participating in this tournament. We’re also operating under some rather large assumptions that they wanted me dead instead of just scared enough to drop out.”

I start to protest, but she’s right. “Are you considering dropping out?”

“Fuck no. This is the only chance I have to be something other than a prize to be passed around as best suits my brother and future spouse. If I’m Ares, they have to take me seriously.”

I know what Achilles thinks of Helen and her charmed life, but it strikes me that it would be awful not to have control of your own fate. Regardless of our origins, both Achilles and I have made our choices again and again without anyone forcing our hands. No one has tried to marry us off to secure some kind of alliance or refused to acknowledge anything about us beyond our looks. “I suppose a diamond cage is still a cage.”

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