Huntress: Trials of the Gods

“How?” asks Thor.

“I suspect the next trial will be difficult and require team work. We’re told to compete in the Trials for one winner, and all our lessons focus on individual training. To stop one of Eros and his crew winning, we need to work together. I think Odin is helping our cause and wants our alliance strengthened. This isn’t an extra lesson as punishment for too much of Dion’s debauchery at all. This is a lesson in teamwork. Bonding. I think he’s tricked the judges into letting us do this.”

“Well you’d know all about trickery.” Triton narrows his eyes. “Did you deliberately screw up our day?”

I bristle. Always blame Loki if shit happens. “Are you serious? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I’m stuck in the middle of fucking nowhere overnight. I need to get back and...”

“Need to what?” I reply sharply.

Triton’s eyes widen and he shakes his head. “Study.”

I glance at Thor as Triton takes and returns to scrutinizing the map. Is Triton really hiding something? Man, I know he has a temper to match Thor’s, but this is out of proportion.

Dion huffs. “Dude, sort your leg out. You know I’m squeamish. I hate blood, it’s disgusting.”

When Triton glances at the stairs and hesitates, Thor throws his pack to one side and swears. “Fine. I’ll go, since none of you are man enough to be near the bathing huntress.”





22





ARTEMIS



Even with my head below the water, I can hear arguing voices downstairs. These gods squabble more than the young girls I grew up with. I pull my head out and listen but can’t make out what they’re arguing about. They need more unity—we need more unity. And if they can’t deal with my nakedness, they need to grow up.

The bath isn’t as warm as I’d hoped, but definitely warmer than shivering in soaked clothes. I take a small towel draped over a nearby stand and step out of the water, wrapping it around myself. Maybe whoever this house belongs to also has spare clothes, because the blanket Triton gave me itches.

I open the bathroom door, ready to investigate a bedroom.

Thor. He's on the top stair, and freezes when he sees me. I stop too, caught by surprise and held by the look in his eyes. I tighten the knot on my towel as his eyes move to where my breasts are half-exposed by the too-thin cloth, water trickling from my shoulders across them. Goosebumps rise on my skin under his scrutiny, and my cheeks involuntarily heat. Why does this man affect me as much as he does? He’s infuriating with his attempt to dominate everything—including me.

And why the hell does he have to be bare-chested? I swallow, unable to stop thoughts about his hard body pressed against mine. I’m pissed off my body reacts to him like this; Thor would love for me to fall into his arms. No, he’d enjoy me falling at his feet.

Not happening.

"Sorry," he mutters. “Thought you were bathing.”

“I was. Now I need clothes.” I purse my lips. “Why did you come up here?”

He cocks a brow. “You think I’m looking for you?”

“Are you?”

Thor repeats his leisurely gaze, this time stopping where the towel barely covers my thighs. “I’m looking for something to bandage Triton’s leg with. I was heading to that bedroom, not to the bathroom.” He jabs a finger at a nearby door. “We don’t have anything useful. I thought I’d look for a sheet.”

In the small space at the top of the stairs, between the bathroom and bedrooms, there's room for little else than the sexually charged space between us. The logical solution would be to step back into the bathroom, but I sense ‘who moves first’ is another Thor challenge.

Water drips down my legs onto the carpeted hallway, and suddenly my almost nakedness feels different to before. This time I’m alone with him. “I hope Triton is okay. Is it bleeding much?” I stammer out.

“A little.” Thor moves toward me and I step backward, knocking into the wall. The towel around my body slips, and I manage to hook the cloth back up before Thor gets a bigger eyeful than he expected.

“I don’t care if you’re naked, Artemis,” he says. “Doesn’t bother me.”

“Doesn’t it?”

I attempt to control my sudden breathing difficulty and I curse he can probably see my eyes have darkened in response to us semi-naked, and close enough to feel each other’s body heat. The expression in his blue eyes matches mine and I have to focus on the voices downstairs to pull myself out of this weird situation.

The longer we stand in stalemate, the more convinced I am he’s about to touch me, and I moisten my lips. Thor watches the action and smiles slowly. “Do you want me to kiss you, Artemis?”

“No,” I retort too quickly, ignoring the way my heart quickens at the suggestion. “Not at all.”

“Really? Because your eyes tell me something different.” He moves his face closer to mine and his stubble brushes my cheek as his breath tickles my ear. “They tell me exactly what you’re thinking.”

“I am thinking you need to back off.” Water puddles on the floor at my feet but I no longer notice.

“Maybe this is a challenge between us and I’ll win,” he says, and I shiver as his lips brush my neck.

“What challenge?” I hold my breath. If he touches me, Thor will discover what my knee in his balls feels like. Either that or I’ll do something stupid like attack his stupidly handsome face. Or kiss it. Oh gods, I can’t.

Thor draws his head back and his eyes meet mine. “You’re the challenge, but I’m not going to chase you, Artemis. I won’t be following you around like a puppy dog begging for your attention.” He slides a hand along my neck and digs his fingers into my hair. “You’ll be begging for me.”

I grip my towel in one hand and place my other on his chest, ready to push him away. I’m shocked by how soft his skin is over the unyielding muscle beneath, and my pause gives Thor the wrong impression. His lips hover millimeters from mine and I feel them as if we were touching. One slip-up and they would be.

I hold my breath.

“Yeah, I think the suggestion was to find a sheet, and not take the scrap of towel Artemis is wearing.” Thor jerks his head around and steps back. Loki looks between us, damp hair obscuring his eyes so I can’t tell his true thoughts. Loki’s mouth doesn’t show any amusement. “Are you okay, Artemis?” he asks in a harsh voice.

“Why wouldn’t she be okay?” Thor drops his grip on my hair.

“Uh. Because you have her backed against the wall, half-naked.”

“I can look after myself,” I retort, relieved my voice isn’t as shaky as my legs are right now. I shove at Thor. “Move.”

Thor steps to one side, taking with him whatever power he has. The one that overwhelms me to the point I’m unsure my towel would’ve stayed on if we were here a moment longer.



The guys remain downstairs, and I pull on a pair of pants and a tunic I find in a bedroom drawer. I think they’re a man’s, as they’re baggy. Taking the towel I wore with me, I jump down the stairs two at a time.

I catch them in an unguarded moment; Loki stoking the fire while Dion sits next to it, warming up. Both have bare chests that are accentuated by the flickering shadows from the firelight. Triton is on the couch, nursing his injured leg. And Thor is at the long plank of wood used as a kitchen table. They seem to have settled now that I’m not in the room and maybe that’s what causes the fights...me.

“Here,” I say. Thor looks over from where he’s cutting up meat and dividing it between plates. “Catch.”

The towel sails across the room into his hand. He frowns. “What’s this?”

“The towel you tried to take off me earlier. You can have it now I’m dressed.”

Dion’s mouth drops open. “What do you mean ‘tried to take it off you’?”

Loki didn’t say anything?