16. Nyssa #2
I looked deeper. The storm-wielder wore a mask of quiet determination, his jaw ticking as though barely restrained.
The fire-wielder appeared downright bored.
I let my eyes sweep between their two impressive forms, torn between drinking in the chiselled jawline of Caelus, and Aros’ obnoxiously huge biceps crossed over his puffed-out chest.
Each of them burned in their own way.
Each would incinerate me if I let them.
An image slid into my mind without warning:
Aros at my back, all heat and flame, his bulging arms holding me captive. His right hand gripped my jaw, lips hungrily tracing down the curve of my throat. His left cupped my breast, fingers gently teasing the peaked nipple.
Caelus on his knees between my pale thighs, grinning devilishly as he grazed my throbbing core with those sinful lips.
Kissing. Licking. Devouring.
The breath I hadn’t realised I was holding escaped in a rush, and my cheeks flushed with heat. I could not bring myself to meet either of their gazes. The urge to fan my face was hard to suppress, but I refused to react further than that too-loud exhale.
I was, after all, standing in a metaphorical shark tank.
Despite my better judgement, I glanced up. Aros’ amber eyes had narrowed, his irises igniting with fire as they burned through me from across the hall. A wicked smirk danced across his lips — like he somehow knew exactly what filth my mind had just conjured.
There’s no way he could have known.
My dragon hummed knowingly.
Fuck. My scent.
Furies, I might as well be a flashing neon sign.
Aros could smell my arousal.
Furies, the entire room probably could.
He had been zeroed in on me the whole time, noting every physical change: flushed cheeks, racing heartbeat, and that damned exhale.
Guiltily, I glanced at Caelus.
His expression was one of pure, unbridled fury. Where Aros smouldered, Caelus seethed. He looked like he wanted to scorch me into oblivion — and with his power over lightning, he might just succeed.
Fuck.
Thankfully, Hermes appeared just in time to save me from finding out if a pissed off storm-wielder could, in fact, kill a goddess.
My curiosity did not need to know if Caelus’ powers were strong enough to do that yet.
He’d definitely be in receipt of Zeus’ primal might some day — if he wasn’t already.
“Champions! Gather round!” Hermes yelled. But no one moved, since we had already been gathered for some time.
“Right, err, hmm. I am thrilled to announce that I won the chance to craft your next trial,” he preened.
“I have created an arena so grand it will accost the history books for millennia!” he shouted gleefully.
“It will challenge not only your minds, but also your bodies. In it, you will face all kinds of obstacles, and you will need to demonstrate the full spectrum of your wits to proceed through. Come, come!”
Hermes gestured to a lesser god waiting in the wings, who, at his command, rushed towards the primal carrying a large silver platter of shot glasses.
The boy was so clumsy in his haste that he only narrowly avoided tripping on Hermes’ foot, almost taking the glasses down with him.
The god of thieves shot him a look of vehement disgust and beckoned us closer to examine the tray.
Each glass brimmed with a shimmering green liquid that glowed like fireflies. As I neared, a sense of foreboding washed over me. The scent was rancid. Wrong.
Every instinct screamed: Do not touch that.
“These glasses contain a specially devised serum that will sever your connections to your bondeds,” Hermes declared.
Aphrodite gasped beside me; Leander roared in protest. The dragon on my shoulder screeched her objection, as did several other beasts around the room.
“Artemis should have warned us of her plan to have you all bonded,” he seethed.
“We are fortunate a serum could be produced on such short notice. Keep the competition fair. You will drink these,” he ordered, low and scathing, “or be instantly eliminated. Should you survive the trial, you will be given an antiserum, and all will be as it was. This challenge is yours alone, not to be aided by your creatures.”
One by one, each champion took a glass and downed the serum. I followed suit, much to the dismay of my dragon. The liquid felt like slime sliding down my throat — not dissimilar to the Styx sludge — so unnatural that it was difficult to keep down.
As it trickled into my belly, my mind emptied. It was hollow. Missing something vital. I lifted the dragon gently from my neck. She looked at me, forlorn and betrayed, and for a moment, my mask almost slipped.
I missed her already, but the bond we’d just shared was gone.
I was alone again.
It was unnerving how easily Hermes had orchestrated the severing of bonds.
He pressed a hand on the pillared archway, and a shimmering veil appeared. Without hesitation, he vaulted through, evidently eager to get the challenge underway. One after another, champions and patron gods followed, none of us knowing what lurked on the other side.
Foreign magic prickled against my skin as I was hurled through the fabric of the realm, until my feet landed on something soft and springy.
Grass. Before me stood a colossal bronze archway, a sculpted caduceus at its centre — the symbol of Hermes.
On either side of the metallic monstrosity, stone walls stretched as far as the eye could see, equally as high.
Hermes hovered just outside the archway, gleefully twirling his actual caduceus like a baton. His winged sandals barely skimmed the ground, and the twin serpents coiled around his gilded staff slithered and shifted. Their gemstone eyes tracked our smallest movements with rapt attention.
“Welcome to the Labyrinth!” he boomed, grinning wickedly.
“Most of you are probably wondering what in the abyss you’ll be subjected to today.
” He glanced my way, eyes hardening. I lifted my chin.
“The trial is simple: find the exit. If you do so in time, you will proceed to the fifth. If you don’t…
” He grinned. “Well. The labyrinth can have you.”
“How much time do we have?” someone asked.
Hermes tilted his head, pretending to think.
“That depends,” he smirked.
A few champions shifted uneasily.
“On?” I asked, suspicion weaving its way through my tone.
“On the labyrinth’s mood—and how well you handle your obstacles,” he supplied breezily.
“It’s a fickle thing, you see. Some paths will stay open for an hour, some for minutes, and others, mere seconds.
Inside its walls, you’ll face all kinds of hurdles: traps, illusions, dead ends.
” He clapped his hands. “Oh! And each of you will start on a different path. How you proceed from there is entirely up to you.”
Murmurs broke out through the allied groups.
“Alone?” Leander queried.
“Alone.” Hermes’ grin faltered for a beat before quickly returning. “After all, Olympus has no need for a ruler who needs their hand held through every challenge that arises, now does it?”
Caelus huffed a breath out his nose, and I caught the flick of his eyes in my direction, too fast to decipher. A ripple of dread washed over me. Was he hoping to sabotage my run? Or flirt with me some more?
“Find the exit. Pass the trial. Any questions?” Hermes’ grin widened, clearly aware we had plenty, yet none of us dared to ask. “Good. Then let us begin.”
One by one, the champions passed through the archway.
The walls groaned and shifted, eclipsing each of them from view, until only three of us remained.
Of course it had to be Caelus, Aros, and me.
The tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife, spread butter all over it, and shove it in my mouth.
“Good luck, darling. Try not to get lost in the view of my impeccable ass as I walk away.” Aros winked and turned on his heel, sashaying through the arch with exaggerated swagger.
A short, perplexed laugh escaped me before I could reel it back in. It was barely a sound, just a breath of unexpected amusement — but it died in my throat when Caelus’ head snapped round to me.
His face was still. Eyes wide. Lips parted. His stormy silver irises flashed with a quick burst of lightning as shock transformed his features. But it passed just as quickly, morphing back into calm indifference. Without a word, Caelus stormed through the arch disappearing from sight.
The shift hit like a bucket of icy water.
One moment, Aros left a trail of roguish heat in his wake. The next, Caelus looked at me like I’d broken his favourite toy.
One pulled. One pushed. The divergence made my head spin.
Snap out of it. Labyrinth, remember?
With gritted teeth and clenched fists, I stomped through the arch, flipping off the god of thieves as I passed, and entered Hermes’ trial.