“Don’t lie to me. You hate him.”
“I would rather take a knife to his throat than slip his ring on my finger.”
He flinches. “Then why?”
“You know why.” I have to pause and lower my voice. “Your parents didn’t raise a fool, so stop playing the innocent. Minos has a foothold in the Thirteen now; he isn’t going to stop. What happens if we tuck tail and flee, leaving everyone else to pay the price of his ambitions?”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, it’s not. Neither is you showing up here and asking something from me that we both know I can’t give.” My chest aches so much, I can barely draw a full breath. I refuse to let it show on my face. “What I do, I do to protect this city and everyone in it. Including you.”
This marriage is the only way. Friends close and enemies closer and all that. I want Hephaestus to pay, and the best way to ensure that happens is if we’re sharing a life, a home, a bed. He and his little fucked-up family won’t be able to slither about unnoticed when we’re in such close quarters. He’ll slip up, and when he does, I’ll be there to gather all the information I need to ensure Minos doesn’t succeed.
In the meantime, I’ll keep my new husband so busy chasing his tail that he won’t have time to worry about plotting his next move.
I lift my chin. “I am marrying him, Adonis. Nothing you say or do will change that.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to apologize, but if I’m sorry this is hurting him, I’m not sorry that I’m taking this necessary action. “I think you should leave.”
His broad shoulders slump. “You’re serious. You’re really going to marry him.”
“Yes.” It hurts to watch him crumple, but it hurts more when he straightens and shakes it off. Anyone with a drop of power in Olympus learns to lie early and often, with word and action and expression.
Adonis has just never bothered to lie to me before.
He does it now with a bright grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Point taken, Aphrodite.”
Gods, but it hurts to hear that name on his lips. “Adonis—”
“See you around. Or not.” He turns without another word and walks away.
I tell myself to close the door, to not watch him and hope against hope that he’ll turn back and look at me. That this thing between us won’t be over, once and for all.
I know better. Despite how he sometimes seems, Adonis is no innocent. We grew up together. He knows exactly what it takes to grab power in Olympus—and what it takes to keep it.
“Eris?”
I jolt at my sister’s voice. I hadn’t even heard her approach. “I’m fine,” I say automatically. I almost sound like I believe it.
“Was that—” She looks past me to where Adonis is disappearing around the corner.
“I don’t want to talk about it.” I step back into the room. It takes a full five breaths before I have my emotions under control. The new tattoo on my hip feels like it’s beating in time with my heart, but that’s just my mind playing tricks. “Help me get into this dress.”
Helen—Ares, she’s called now—follows me into the room with worry in her hazel eyes. She’s already ready, dressed in the tasteful red bridesmaid dress I picked out last week. It took a bit of doing to get our dresses tailored and ready in time, but the designer pulled it off. Not the legendary Juliette—she doesn’t like me much—but another recommended by Psyche Dimitriou.
My sister unzips the cover around my dress. “You don’t have to do this.”
We’ve had this same conversation half a dozen times since I announced I would marry our new Hephaestus, making our union a condition of the rest of the Thirteen accepting him and the power-hungry Minos into our inner circle.
But Helen is an idealist. I’m still not sure how she managed that while growing up in the same household I did. Having an abusive megalomaniac as a father has a way of bringing things into perspective. Helen has spent her whole life fighting against the role she was assigned at birth.
I’ve embraced it.
I don’t bother to answer her as she takes down the dress and holds it for me to step into. I’ve planned my image carefully for this event, from the dress that dips low between my breasts and skims the rest of my body, to the lace layered over fabric panels the same color as my skin. It’s meant to tease, to tantalize.
This marriage won’t be in name only. I won’t give my new husband a single piece of ammunition to say it’s anything less than legitimate in order to claim an annulment. That includes consummating, no matter how distasteful I find the idea. Hephaestus is attractive in a rough kind of way, but he’s crude and about as subtle as a brick through a window. Mutual hate can lead to intense chemistry in the bedroom, but in this case, with how he keeps looking at me like he’d love to see my blood paint the walls, I’ll be lucky if we both make it to tomorrow alive.
Helen finishes zipping me up and steps back, her expression unreadable. When we stand side by side, it’s achingly clear that we’re closely related. We have our mother’s coloring, though Helen’s hair is lighter than mine with little bits of red catching the late afternoon light. She’s prettier, too, though pretty isn’t the right word. Helen has traffic-stopping beauty. On me, the same features are a little too sharp, a little uncanny.
I prefer it that way. My beauty makes people uncomfortable. Wary.
My new husband won’t know what hit him.
2
HEPHAESTUS
“I don’t want to do this.”
“It’s too late for that, my boy.” Minos, the foster father I owe everything to, stands before me and adjusts my collar. Almost as if he’s a real father at his real son’s wedding. The pride on his face is real enough, even if everything else about today is a farce. He pats my shoulder. “With great power comes great responsibility.”
Funny how he only remembers the last part of that saying when it suits him. When we came to Olympus, things seemed simple enough. Take the Ares title and secure a spot for the rest of my family in this cesspool of a city. Except nothing has gone to plan since we arrived here. I was eliminated in the second round instead of going on to win the whole tournament. More, that little bitch left my knee permanently fucked up. Not even surgery could fix it.
If we were anyone else, that would have been the end of it.
We’re not anyone else, though. Minos isn’t anyone else. He’s a powerful man beholden to someone even more powerful. A single failure isn’t enough to set someone like that back. I’m not convinced he didn’t plan for us to miss the mark in the Ares tournament, because he pivoted fast enough afterward.
“You never said that taking the title like this would sink me up to my neck in political bullshit.” Political bullshit like marrying that witch Aphrodite. From the moment I saw her, I’ve hated her and wanted her in equal measures. She’s too smart, too gorgeous, too good at getting under my skin. A marriage would be bad enough—it’s not something I’ve ever wanted—but with this pairing, every day will be a battlefield.
“If you’d succeeded at claiming the Ares title, you would have married Helen.” An edge creeps into Minos’s voice. “You failed, so here we are. Helen would have been a more biddable wife, but the dice have been rolled.”
I highly doubt the woman who maimed me would ever be described as biddable, but I’m not about to argue. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m not marrying Helen. I’m marrying Aphrodite. “I didn’t fail twice,” I snap.