No one had warned me that beauty could look like that. That a warrior’s strength could be so hypnotic, so utterly divine.
Maybe he should have been giving me lessons on seduction instead of Hetairis.
I shifted and a pebble danced off my sandal, skittering across the paved path in front of me.
He froze mid-swing, the blade suspended in air as he turned toward the sound. His eyes locked on me across the space, and heat flared in my cheeks, fierce and unrelenting. I was quite certain I’d never blushed this hard in my life.
Thank the gods he couldn’t see them under this veil.
I melted awkwardly where I stood, unsure if I was more breathless or embarrassed.
Achilles slowly lowered his blade, staring at me with a kind of quiet intensity that made the space between us buzz.
I tried to find my voice but failed.
We continued to stare at each other across the sparring ring, neither of us moving. The air between us crackled and I watched as his chest rose and fell, the only motion in a world that seemed to have gone still.
He moved.
Each step pressed the silence tighter until it felt ready to snap. Moonlight kissed his face, catching in the shadows beneath his jaw, sliding across the dark blue of his eyes. There was a faint scar that curved through his brow that I hadn’t noticed before. Sweat that traced the hollows of his throat. And his mouth, gods … had there ever been a prettier one?
You’re staring at him like he’s a piece of hotchgotten, Helena. You should probably run.
My inner voice was strong, but his gaze was apparently stronger because I still couldn’t move.
“You shouldn’t be out here, Helena,” Achilles finally said, his voice edged with something that slid along my skin.
I startled, my hand flying to my chest.
It took me far longer than it should have to answer him. “How did you know it was me?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “That’s not the question.” His tone deepened, insistent. “The question is … why are you out here?”
“Not trying to be scolded by you, obviously,” I finally replied, proud that my voice came out more than a gasp … or worse, a squeak.
His lips curled up in what could almost pass for a flicker of amusement. “Scolded?” he echoed. “Is that what you think I’m doing?”
I shrugged, feigning nonchalance even as my heart tried to punch a hole through my ribs. “What else would you call it? Unless you just enjoy lurking shirtless in gardens and startling women who’ve clearly lost their minds.”
“I wasn’t lurking,” he said, taking a single step forward. “I wastraining. Something Menelaus expects of me. I can assure you … he doesn’t expectthisfrom you.”
“I wasn’t lurking either,” I lied, holding my ground. “Just … momentarily disoriented by the sweating and glistening and terrifying displays of strength.”
That flicker of a smile deepened. “Should I apologize for that too?”
“I think you should apologize for the moonlight,” I blurted out, more heat crawling up my neck. No wonder Hetairis was sure I was going to fail this Trial. I was terrible at this. It was like I hadn’t been trained at all.
I had the urge to rip off my veil but managed to control myself … barely.
He took another step toward me. “And why is that?”
I coughed.Because it’s doing you all sorts of favors, I thought to myself.
“Ah,” he said, tilting his head. “So it’s the moon’s fault you were staring?”
Gods.I’d said that out loud as well. Maybe I’d gone mad. Something had to explain why I was only capable of embarrassing myself around this man.
“Staring?” I scoffed, spinning on my heel and thanking the gods he couldn’t see the flush still creeping up my neck. “Please. I was admiring the roses.”
