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And the rest? The future where this strange, tentative thing between me and Achilles and Patroclus crashes and burns away to ash? I can’t stand the thought of it.
Easier, simpler to focus on the more immediate threats. “Besides, it’s not as if he’s the only one I have to worry about. Even if Paris isn’t a true contender—and he is, or he wouldn’t still be here—no one can argue that the Minotaur is anything less than dangerous.”
“We’ll deal with it.” Patroclus speaks with such confidence, as if he’s already planned for this. As if life doesn’t have a habit of kicking you in the teeth when you least expect it. As if he’s not halfway out of commission from being beaten by Hector. “You have nothing to worry about. Neither Paris nor the Minotaur will win.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone keeps saying.” I shake my head slowly. “Do you know what my brother said to comfort me when he sold me out to cement a potential future alliance? He said if the new Ares hurt me, he’d kill them.”
Achilles narrows his eyes. “Seems forward of Zeus, but what’s wrong with that?”
My laugh comes out ragged. “What’s wrong is that he’s making a whole lot of assumptions that aren’t based in reality. Ares doesn’t need me as their wife in order to hold the title. Somehow the so-called comfort of being avenged doesn’t make me feel better. But then, he didn’t say it to make me feel better. He said it to assuage whatever’s left of his stunted conscience.” Or, worse, to placate me into being a willing victim. I can’t say that aloud, though. It’s too much to share, even with these two.
Achilles lifts his brows. “I don’t know what you’re worried about, princess. I’m going to become the next Ares, and while I enjoy a bit of slap and tickle and fighting turning into fucking, I only enjoy it when everyone involved is having a good time. You’re safe enough with me.”
I stare up at him, temporarily dumbfounded. Does he think that’s comforting? While I can admit that Achilles is the best candidate of the bunch, his winning means I’ve failed. It means I’ll spend the rest of my life regulated to the supportive wife, the one always outside the inner circle, the prize.
I sink into the chair across from him, suddenly exhausted. I can’t afford to forget that these men aren’t my allies. Not really. They might be guarding my body and giving me more pleasure than I could have dreamed and… But it doesn’t matter. We’re at odds.
Gods, that shouldn’t hurt so much. “That’s not nearly as comforting as you’d like it to be.”
“Achilles has his own way of doing things.” Patroclus shrugs. “To be fair, he’s the best option to win.”
I bristle. It doesn’t even occur to me to cover up my reaction. Not with these two. “I am the best option to win.”
Achilles gives that arrogant grin like he’s humoring me. “Really, princess? Have you dealt with a lot of soldiers and security efforts up in that gilded palace of a penthouse you live in?” The question might be barbed, but I can tell he’s not trying to be cruel.
He’s even right, at least in this. I don’t have experience with soldiers. Not even a little bit. I’ve had security all my life, but they tend to either blend into the background or keep enough distance—at my insistence—that I forget they’re there. I came into this tournament prepared to have to learn from the ground up when it comes to Ares’s actual duties, but I’m smart, ambitious, and not afraid to play dirty. I can figure out the rest on my way down.
I lift my chin. “I’m a fast learner.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He grins. “Look, Helen, you’re a certified badass. No one is saying otherwise. You’ve kicked ass in both the challenges, and if I wasn’t here, you’d have a better than decent chance of taking Ares. But the fact remains that you’re not qualified for the title.”
I am so fucking tired of being underestimated. Yes, I know only the basics of security from the client perspective, but that doesn’t mean I’m ill-prepared for the title. These two men are both smart and ambitious and they actually take me seriously, but they still don’t understand. There’s absolutely no reason to feel stung by that. No one else sees the real me, understands what I’m actually capable of. Why would Achilles and Patroclus be the exception?
Honestly, it’s an asset. No matter how it chafes, being underestimated has only benefited me. Right now is where I keep my mouth shut and let them believe they know something I don’t.
I can’t quite manage it, though. “Wrong. I’m not the one in over my head if I become Ares.” I lean forward and tap Achilles on the chest with a single finger. “You are.”
