Chapter 20 #2
“I-I’m sorry,” Theo finally spoke, glancing at Draven from the corner of his eye. “He has my weapon and—and—he promised he’d give it to me if I helped him or else . . . he’d kill me first.”
“I said that I would kill her using an arrow with your blood on it if you don’t help me.” Draven made a gesture with his hand in the air. “Whatever. Semantics, right?”
After I heard the word arrow, Draven’s words faded like smoke, and my gaze fixed on Eros’s bow that was secured to Theo’s back. Shit.
Draven took an arrow out of the sack, playing with it between his fingers as his feet moved closer to me. “Though I didn’t really need his help, did I?” Draven stared back over his shoulder at Theo, who shook his head. His eyes found mine once again, a mischievous gleam in them.
“How does it feel? Having your friend betray you? No, wait. I have a better question.” He laughed to himself. “How does it feel knowing he’ll be the one to end you? The man who—”
His words cut off as my head drove straight into his nose, sending him backward a few steps. A grunt of pain replaced his annoying voice. I thought it was rather pleasant compared to his senseless rambling. Oh, how I enjoyed watching his confidence diminish.
“Dumb whore,” he grumbled, trying to stop the blood erupting from his nostrils with his hands and letting the arrow fall from his hold, but not Dionysus’s weapon.
I didn’t hesitate. I swiftly kicked, my foot finding its mark on his testicles with impressive accuracy. Draven’s body curved, his bloodied palms moving from his face to his groin.
Draven looked at me with his chin pointed at his chest, and before I knew it, he launched at my throat, catching it between his rough fingers. It was almost surprising at how well he grabbed my neck without his palms slipping from it. His grip tightened, the pressure cutting off my airway.
Instinctively, my hands gripped onto his wrists, even though I knew they’d do nothing to free me from his grasp.
Draven lifted me in the air, and I felt the blood rush to my head, causing my eyes to widen and the veins in my forehead to swell.
The world began to blur at the edges, the frenzied pounding of my heart echoing in my ears.
I wasn’t sure what frightened me more—the lack of oxygen or the fierce hunger in his gaze.
His eyes, usually a cold, calculating tint, were now alight with a predatory fire that promised agony and something far more malevolent.
I kicked at his stomach, limbs—anywhere I could reach—but Draven barely flinched, as if all of a sudden he was made of stone. He smiled at me, crimson liquid trailing to his teeth and painting them an even crueler shade. The smirk didn’t reach his eyes, yet it burned with a primal need.
Gasping for air, I tried to give the signal to Verena, but Draven dropped me, my knees and palms landing on the ground. He didn’t offer me a chance to regain my breath. He moved behind me, pulling my arms to my back.
“Kill her,” Draven spat at Theo, who witnessed the entire encounter with eyes so round they could have popped out of their sockets.
At least he didn’t soil his trousers.
Draven placed his chin on my shoulder, urging Theo to come closer. My jaw locked tight at the touch. I filled my lungs, yanking my head back like a rabid animal, hoping for the trick to work a second time. Draven dodged with ease.
I should’ve alerted Verena to come out. Yet, my lips remained sealed. I wanted to see how far Theo would go.
My eyes, intense with provocation, met Theo’s.
“Grab the arrow and slit her throat,” Draven said.
With trembling fingers, Theo crouched down and grabbed the arrow, flipping it between his fingers as he approached the two of us. A dot of sweat glistened on his forehead. I lifted my chin, gaze pointed to the sky, waiting.
“Will you give me the staff af-fter? Like you p-promised?”
“After you kill her, I’ll give it to you.
” He pressed the stick to my back as he spoke.
“You have my word.” Draven probably saw himself as convincing, but I could sense the lie hiding behind his carefully constructed words—unlike Theo, who nodded, his face pale and drawn, and curled his fingers around the arrow.
He wiped the mud off it, cleaning the pointed end.
Theo lifted his hand into the air, and a surge of burning rage, hot like lava, waved through my veins. He was going to kill me and wouldn’t even bother to say “I’m sorry” before he’d bleed the life out of me.
“Now.” My voice was filled with wrath, teeth screeching against each other in a silent snarl. But then, there was sweet relief when Verena walked out of the wall and pushed Theo to the ground, sending him sprawling.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I twisted my hands from Draven’s grasp and set myself free.
I didn’t think twice before I grabbed hold of his shoulders and drove his face right into the claws of the harpies.
Their talons, sharp as obsidian shards, tore into his flesh.
They dragged him inside their nest with ominous ease, their wings beating a morbid cadence as they swallowed him whole.
Only his terrified scream, cut short for a second by a sickening crunch, echoed between the three of them.
Theo was still on the ground, watching the entire scene with petrified horror.
“Get him out,” I told Verena as I strode to Theo, pushing his face flat into the mud and unstrapping the bow and arrows from his back. He didn’t put up a fight.
“What?” Verena came next to me, eyebrows raised. “Let him die there, he doesn’t deserve to live.”
“I’m not like him. Get him out. The wounds will make him suffer, and he won’t recover fast enough before the next trial comes but I won’t be the one who killed him.”
With a frustrated huff, Verena slipped through the beasts. She emerged a few moments later, and with a harsh thud, Draven landed on the ground with an arm folded around the open wound on his stomach. It was then that I noticed his right hand was missing a finger.
“You’ll pay . . . for this,” he mumbled between the streams of blood gushing out of his mouth.
“If you make it through this, that is,” I said, deciding he’d received enough of my attention. With one last glance at Theo, who hadn’t moved from his position, I motioned with my chin at Verena, and we walked away.
Verena laughed. “Reed says he likes you.”
“I must congratulate you. You revealed an unanticipated facet of your persona today,” Athena spoke with practiced grace, a cunning smile painting her full lips. “Name your god, mortal, but do well to note that an incorrect response will lead to a significant disadvantage in the following trial.”
My eyes traced the faces of the gods, each seated with pride upon their thrones.
Zeus, thunderous and regal, examined me with detached interest. Artemis, smiling from ear to ear, seemed to hold her breath in anticipation of my answer.
But my focus shifted to Eros. His expression was indecipherable, lips set in a straight line, and his gaze watched through me with a piercing intensity.
Self-conscious, I ran my fingers against my neck, where Draven’s fingers undoubtedly had left some ugly marks.
Eros must’ve been through this exact situation countless times in his immortal life.
He’d know better than to care for someone who could die faster than he could blink.
He had seen empires rise and fall, mortal loves blossom and wither.
My fingers curled around the smooth wood of the bow and almost recoiled at the familiar sensation. It was as if my hand had been built for it, fitting every curve of the weapon. With a parched throat and monumental effort, I forced myself to look at Athena.
I had a question to reply to.
I took a deep breath, and the words burned in my throat as I spoke. “God of Love. I’m the error of the God of Love.”
Before I could stop myself, I found Eros’s face again, hoping to find confirmation. Something glinted in his eyes, but it faded before I could know whether I had imagined it or if it had been real.
I gulped, waiting. Rationally, I knew I couldn’t be wrong. The riddle was simple, and I thought that was the easiest part of the trial—exactly how the gods had planned it. They knew that by distributing the weapons randomly, it would create conflict that would hinder the entire process.
Athena nodded delicately. “That is correct. In the company of your god, you may depart now.”
Eros rose from his heart-shaped throne and descended the platform’s steps. The only two empty chairs were Hera’s, who was presumably Riley’s goddess, and Hades’. I had witnessed Hades and Verena veyrith themselves away just before it was my turn.
My breathing stopped at the same time Eros halted in front of me and offered a hand. He remained stoic, his expression as hard as rock.
Where would we go now? To his house? Somewhere else? What did it mean for us that I now knew I was his error?
With a slight shake of his head, noticing I had no intention of grabbing his hand, Eros sent us into a blanket of darkness, taking me to our next location.