Verdant foliage spilled over the sprawling house, which was built on the lower side of a lush hill.
It was breathtakingly tropical.
The warm sun was divine against my tender skin, so I gingerly lay down on the plush lounge chair and closed my eyes.
A smile curved my lips.
I drifted off.
“Why do you look like Zeus?” Patro barked, and I jolted upright.
The Crimson Duo loomed above me—completely blocking out the sun with their freakish size.
“What?” I asked with confusion.
“Same ridiculous golden skin and curls.” Patro glared down at my now dry hair like it morally offended him. “You even have one of his gray-white eyes. Although”—he narrowed his eyes—“he would never abandon a daughterunless there was something extremely wrong with you.”
A phantom pain spiked my left side, right where Foster Father had slammed his fist.
I didn’t correct him about my eye color.
Everyone always assumed I was born with heterochromia.Some wounds are so visible that no one can ever see them.
Patro squinted at me like he was trying to figure out what was off about me (so much—I could make a list), so I cleared my throat and tried to change the topic.
“You could do a paternity t-test to check,” I offered tentatively.
It seemed ridiculous to assume my parentage based on mere coloring. Everyone knew genetics wasn’t a zero-sum game. It wasn’t,he also has golden skin—boom—you’re related.
Achilles and Patro looked at me like I was stupid, which was still up for debate.
“No.” Patro made a duh face. “We can’t justtestyour blood. You’re not just a weak human anymore, Spartan blood is too acidic to test. Obviously.”
Literally nothing is obvious about Sparta.
Patro pursed his lips and sighed dramatically. “Moving on—the real question is why would Zeus pair you with us and not Theros?”
Achilles looked at him pointedly and arched his brow. “He’s weak and pathetic,” he signed. “Just like her.”
It took everything I had not to make a face.That was just uncalled for.
“I know he’s incompetent,” Patro replied aloud. “But he’s theirheir, so why wouldn’t he—” His mouth dropped as he looked down at me. “—unless he actuallywantsyou to succeed.” He wrinkled his nose. “But he abandoned you and hates us. It only makes sense if he’s trying to kill you off and screw us.”
At this point, it feels like everyone is trying to give me father issues.
Patro rubbed his temples like he was either thinking or had a tumor that was causing him pain.
I prayed for the latter.
Silence stretched, and it got awkward again.
Or maybe it’s always been awkward?I tended to have that effect on people, especially men. It was probably my giant boobs, curvy body, and bubbly, extroverted personality.
“Is th-this Crete?” I whispered, naming the first Greek island that came to mind.
Both men frowned at me. Well, I assumed Achilles was scowling; it was hard to tell because of the muzzle.
Does it ever chafe?
