He took a step forward. His chest heaved, the veins in his forearms standing out as his hand twitched near the hilt of his sword, not in threat, but because he didn’t seem to know where else to anchor himself. His gaze clung to me like a man caught between worship and war, like the sight of me was undoing something he’d spent years trying to lock away.
Menelaus leaned forward on his throne, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction, the corner of his mouth curving in delight. His gaze darted between us like he was watching a performance.
The sight of that smile burned through the haze. I forced my focus back to it, tohim. This wasn’t about Achilles. It never had been.
I was doing this for the king, to make him see me, to make himwant.
The music shifted and darkened. Another girl was dismissed, then another.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a sliver, a grasp of clarity. I realized what I must look like and how shameless my body had become. Embarrassment flickered, bright and mortifying. But the herb rose up like a tide to meet it, washing the thought clean away.
All that remained was sensation. Willing limbs. And the way their eyes hadn’t left me once.
The drums sank into a throbbing rhythm, their echoes vibrating through the floor, through me. The air itself felt alive, trembling with tension.
Achilles’s chest was heaving, every muscle drawn tight. His eyes traced over me, full of something that looked far too human for Sparta’s legend. And I knew, in that dizzying rush of realization, that I had done it. I hadbrokenhim.
Menelaus saw it too.
His head tilted, the gleam in his gaze intensifying as his expression turned feral. Power hummed off him. He leaned back in his throne, bronze catching the firelight as his hand slid lower, adjusting his cock with the careless satisfaction of a man who’d claimed the world and was deciding what to conquer next. He lookedbetween us, between the captain who couldn’t look away and the woman who’d caused it, and the pleasure in his face was unmistakable.
I met Menelaus’s eyes, the smirk still touching his lips, and continued to dance. Each shift of my hips said what I couldn’t through my veil:Do you see me now?
A murmur threaded through the court, slipping from mouth to mouth. Some watched in awe, others in disbelief, but no one dared to interrupt. Achilles’s gaze never faltered. Menelaus’s grin only widened.
The crowd had vanished; there was only them. The king on his throne, his fingers digging into the cold marble he sat on, and the captain of his kingdom standing rigid, undone by everything he wasn’t supposed to feel.
The song eased, but the intensity in the room didn’t. They continued to watch me as the final drumbeat died.
The herb still hummed in my veins, blurring the edges of the world, but this, this wasn’t its doing. Their attention was mine. And the rush of it felt like power rising in my blood.
But even as I lifted my chin in victory, a shiver threaded through the heat—what happens to the flame once the gods notice it burning?
Chapter21
The herb was burning its way through me, and it didn’t want to leave cleanly.
After the performance, after the swirling incense, the pounding drums, the rancid stench of lust, I staggered back to my room. My skin felt too tight, too hot. Every brush of air skimmed my nerves like a lover’s breath. Every inch of me still thrummed like I stood before the king, body bared beneath a thousand ravenous eyes.
Lust clung to me like oil, seeping inward.
“Helena?” Damaris’s voice trembled beside me. “You’re … you’re shaking.”
I forced my gaze up. The corridor wavered. Her face shimmered like water. “I’m fine,” I whispered. Or tried to. The word scraped out hoarse, barely formed.
Chloé snorted softly, tossing her hair. “Some people weren’t made for this,” she scoffed, loud enough to be heard.
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t even summon irritation. The heat twisting inside me drowned out everything, petty jabs, whispers, the rustle of veils. My pulse throbbed between my legs, insistent and brutal.
Anysa slipped an arm beneath mine, steadying me when my knees buckled. “Ignore her,” she muttered. “Just breathe. We’re almost there.”
Almost there. Almost.
The hallway stretched endlessly, shadows pulsing at the edges of my vision. I caught myself against the wall once and my palm seemed to burn where it met the cold stone.
“Helena,” Anysa murmured again. Worried. Gentle.
“I just …” My breath hitched. My tongue felt thick and clumsy. “Need a moment.”
