“How?”
“Well, when I hit a dead end, they were ready to shred me to pieces, but when you joined me, they seemed almost . . . tame.”
A moment of silence passed between the two of us as Verena kept caressing the harpies as if they were her pets, mumbling about how good they were.
I watched her with a grimace. Then after allowing her a longer moment to befriend the beasts, I spoke.
“Ready?”
Verena nodded. “Ready.”
My foot tapped a frantic rhythm against the gritty ground; my unwavering gaze fixed on a shadowy corner. I held my breath, the air thick with anticipation, each blink a potential betrayal, a missed glimpse of Draven’s arrival.
The damp air clung to me like a second skin, the soil trembling under me. I bent my knees, sensing the approach of someone. Then, a whirlwind of limbs blurred past us, a flash of blue hair the only clue that it was Riley. I let out a breath of relief, the tension leaving my shoulders with a visible sigh.
“Are you all right in there?”
A muffled sound escaped from between the harpies. “I’m all right!” Verena shouted. “It’s kinda cozy in here.” Amid the animals, she was undetectable by human eyes, completely hidden underneath the shifting feathers. The creatures seemed to understand their mission. They were guardians, a living shield around Verena.
The thought did nothing to ease my discomfort, and neither did hearing Verena saying she was cozy underneath the volatile group.
“They are coming!” Verena called to me, passing along information from the ghost she was always talking to—Reed was his name.
I shivered at the words, a subtle reminder that my life wasn’t the only one at stake.
Not once in my life, not even in my rarest dreams, did I imagine I’d be interacting with a dead person. Not that I spoke directly to Reed, but Verena said he had offered to help, and I awkwardly thanked a space in the air before Hades’ error. Verena, with a wave of her hand, had indicated the space where Reedactuallystood.
I frowned.They?
Before I could consider who Draven’s companion could be, he stepped past the corner, his lips lifting into a wicked smile. Under the weight of his palm, Dionysus’s staff broke through the mud’s surface. Footsteps, sloppy and uneven, reached my ears before a man walked up behind Draven, avoiding my gaze at all costs.
Fists clenched at my sides, I kept my chin high. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t surprised to see him standing beside Draven, the man who arbitrarily decided I was deserving of his hatred. The truth was, I never thought he would be the one to stab me in the back. Could it be because I had wanted to trust him? No, I wouldn’t be that naive. Maybe I assumed he lackedthe balls to go through with it. I underestimated him. Yes, that seemed more like it.
The idea of being betrayed during the trials didn’t surprise me—I knew we would all turn against each other at one point—but it didn’t sting any less to witness it firsthand. Not when it happened this early in the game.
“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 Iwould 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.
