“W-what?” I don’t understand. Even though I hear what he’s saying, I can’t quite make sense of it. Theo wanted to lose? And Haven helped him do it?
“You best go,” Theo says. “The celebration will be one to remember, I’m sure.” But we won’t remember you, is what I want to say. It’s cruel to think about.
“I just wanted you to know,” Theo says. “I did have a choice and Haven let me make it.”
I nod and then wrap him in a hug. “Farewell, Theo. I hope this girl was worth it.”
When I pull back, he smiles wide. “She’s more than worth it.”
As I head outside to the waiting carriage, my stomach twists into knots. I really am out of my depth here. Because the one thing I was certain of, that I thought I could count on, was the wicked cruelty of Haven Knightfall.
And now I know—there’s more to Haven than I first realized. And I don’t want there to be more depth to him. I want there to be less.
Because the more I get to know Haven Knightfall, the less predictable he becomes.
Chapter 20
There are two carriages to carry us around the mountain to Olympus City and to Zeus’s palace. I end up in a carriage with Haven and Pearce. Haven is quiet the entire ride. Pearce fills the silence with his pompous buffoonery. He tries entertaining Haven with his recount of our first trial, how he had to fight Orrin in the Dark Wood and bested him by kicking him in the groin.
Haven doesn’t react and Pearce trails off in awkward laughter, then turns his attention to me—an easy, captive target.
“It must be nice to reap the rewards and do none of the work,” he says to me.
“Excuse me?”
Pearce nods. “You really think you’re still standing because you’re better than us? Hah! The only reason Haven is letting you move on to the next trial is because you’re—”
“Pearce.” Haven says his name quietly and casually with no venom or warning in his voice. But Pearce shuts his fat trap and looks away like he was slapped by Hades himself.
I steal a glance at Haven out of the corner of my eye, but he’s turned away from me, his gaze trained on the streets of Olympus City blurring past outside the carriage window.
So they still think I’m just an easy mark for the end of the trial. A weak link that can be snuffed off the board.
I’ll let them keep thinking it.
Of course, unless I get control of my power, they might turn out to be right.
When the carriage pulls into the long, curving driveway, I forget all about the trials and my power and Haven Fucking Knightfall because I’m just minutes away from seeing Clea!
The carriage comes to a halt, and a footman opens the door. Haven is the first out with Pearce right behind him. Holding my dress so I don’t step on it, I duck out and into the sweeter, warmer air of Olympus City here on the sunny side of the mountain.
Though it’s just after dusk, the air still has that muzzy summer warmth to it as I walk up the marble steps to the palace. Footmen dressed in Zeus’s livery stand at both doors. They neither greet me nor acknowledge me as I walk inside.
The faint swirl of music filters out from the ballroom at the end of the grand hallway. Laughter rings through the air. There are people milling about. Girls in shimmering dresses and young men in tailored suits, some decorated with the gold trimmings and pins of their god houses.
Twinkling lights wink from the ceiling. I crane my neck, marveling at how they’re suspended in mid-air. Though I grew up in Olympus, there’s still so much I don’t know about how the magic works and every time I attend a party, there’s more wonder to take in.
I really was sheltered at Hestia’s House and I don’t think I realized just how much until I moved to Hades’s.
All of the Hades descendants, including Haven, have disappeared into the crowd so I start searching for faces I recognize. I enter the ballroom tentatively, feeling like I must stand out like a storm cloud in a sunny sky. Where at Hades’s House, I felt like I belonged in my black dress, here I stick out amongst the others’ dresses that are made of shades of white and gold and pink and orange.
Finally I spot Clea across the room and the relief I feel is nearly palpable. I skirt the perimeter of the room and come up behind her. I grab her by the elbow and whirl her around, causing her to yelp in surprise. When her eyes land on me, for a split second it seems as though she was expecting someone else.
“Oh,” she says. “Oh! Ana!” She flings her arms around my neck and squeezes tightly. I’m immediately overwhelmed by her sweet sugared scent. “I’ve missed you!” She stands back and holds me at arm’s length. “The dress looks divine on you, just as we thought it would.
I self-consciously run my hand down its front. “It isn’t too...I don’t know...funereal?”
“What? No. Not at all. It’s bold and daring.”
With Clea’s endorsement, I start to feel a little better. We turn to the crowd, arms linked together. “So,” she says, “you must tell me everything. How is it being the only girl in a house of boys? What’s Hades like?”
The full band that plays from the stage switches to the “Nocte Amantes” which translates to night lovers, if I remember correctly. It’s a choreographed partner dance and people start pairing off to begin.
“Living in Hades’s House is different from Hestia’s. For one, they stay up all night. I’m not used to that at all so I’m perpetually exhausted. And they don’t have a separate bath for women! Can you believe that?”
Clea’s eyes widen at the scandal. “So you have to shower with the boys?”
“Well...I’ve taken to going early in the morning to avoid them. So far it’s kinda working.” But my face warms at the memory of Haven catching me in the shower and me using my nakedness like a weapon.
“And Haven?” Clea asks as if she’s picked up on the thread of my thoughts.
I catch sight of him across the room. He’s with Pearce and Kal and Lyantha and some other girls I don’t know. They’re all turned to him as if he’s the sun and they the planets that orbit him.
A force that can’t be fought.
Lyantha gets in close to his side and hooks her arm through his as if she somehow owns him. Though they’re both descendants of Hades, their blood is so far removed that if they decided to take up with one another, no one would give a care.
Except...there’s this sharp, tangy feeling in my gut, like maybe I might.
I don’t like how she’s touching him. And I don’t like how she’s gazing up at him as if she wants to devour him.
My chest clenches and one word rings out in my head: mine.
What the hell? Get a grip, Ana.
I don’t want Haven. Not in any way, shape, or form.
When I look at him again, I realize he’s staring right at me. He’s caught me watching him. There’s an expression on his face that’s almost amused.
I quickly dart my gaze away.
To Clea, I say, “Haven is insufferable.”
“Why am I not surprised?” she says. “He’s a horrible person. I swear he was born of the fetid scum of the Underworld. I wish he’d lose so his very existence would be wiped from my memory.”
“Same,” I say, but the lie tastes bitter on my tongue.
I chance another look. Haven’s gaze is still on me and I warm beneath his stare.
I don’t want him to lose, I realize. But I don’t want to lose either.
Trying to dispel the unease currently churning in my gut, I turn the conversation to more hopeful matters. “How’s Marigold?” I ask. “And Sura?”
“They’re well,” Clea says.
We stop in the corner as the dancers spread out for the song’s finale. The music picks up speed again. Onlookers clap in unison with the beat of the band.
“Marigold misses you, of course, but she’s turned her sights on getting picked for Ares’s House now that you’ve blazed a trail for all orphaned descendant women.”
Ares has always had male desce
ndants in his trials as well and the trials are notoriously brutal and interminable. I think Ares’s last trial lasted over a year. You not only need to be savage and strong in Ares’s House, you also have to have incredible endurance and unwavering strength of will.
I’m barely surviving in Hades’s House and it’s only been a few days. I would definitely lose in Ares’s House.
“Marigold would be better served for Hermes’s House,” I say, hoping that it will come to neither. “She’s like a ghost. She could get in and out of anywhere to deliver messages.”
“Mmm,” Clea says. Her attention has wandered.
I follow her line of sight and see Kahne. The son of Ares.
Clea is rendered mute by the very sight of him. She’s really fallen for him, apparently. I try to piece together how I missed this going on when I was living at Hestia’s. Clea isn’t very good at keeping secrets. Was I that oblivious?
No, I realize. I was just too self-absorbed. Too focused on my own problems.
What could Kahne have possibly said in his letters to lead Clea to believe they might have a chance?
I already don’t like him because I suspect he’s been lying to her.
And then Kahne looks up like he feels Clea’s attention and the moment he sees her, he brightens. Not into a blazing smile or anything. The descendants of Ares are too red-blooded for that. But his expression softens. His mouth quirks like he wants to smile and there’s a new gleam in his eye.
Maybe there is something to this love story?
Though I have no one else here to be with and I detest the idea of being at a party alone, I give Clea’s hand a squeeze and say, “Go to him.”
“Really?” She looks away from him long enough to furrow her brow at me. “I don’t want to leave you, but…” She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip. “Ares second trial is one of the longest out of all the god houses. The descendants go away on a mock campaign and it usually lasts weeks. I don’t know when I might see him again and who knows if—”
“Clea. Go. I’ll be fine.”
She squeezes me back. “Thank you, Ana! I haven’t seen him in days and I’m literally dying!”
“Well, don’t let me keep you from living.”
Before I finish my sentence, she’s gone.
Chapter 21
I circle the room a few more times before I tire of the music and revelry with no one to revel with.
After stealing a few sweet cakes, I leave the ballroom and duck into a dark, empty parlor. Ornate furniture divides the room into two cozy conversational spaces. In the far corner, a grand piano gleams in the moonlight. I slide into one of the window seats that overlooks the reflection pool in the garden and dive into my liberated baked goods.
The sweet cakes are moist and sugared and so damn welcomed. I’m not yet used to the heavy meat and savory dishes of Hades’s House. I gobble up one cake and then dive right into the second. I’m just polishing it off and licking the sugar from my fingers when the parlor door bursts open and two people enter.
The window seat is partially shielded on both sides by heavy velvet drapes, so I curl my knees into my chest and try to stay hidden. I’m not exactly sure if I’m supposed to be in here.
“What do you want?” a very familiar voice says.
Haven?
“You nearly lost your trial,” Nereus says with a growl.
Haven groans. “Do we really need to do this here? You can lecture me later.” His footsteps go for the door, but from the sound of it, Nereus yanks him back.
“Stop being a petulant child and start acting like a fucking Knightfall. Do you hear me?”
Haven says nothing.
There’s a scraping of fabric.
“We can’t have the girl winning this trial. So I need you to stop being nice and start taking what you’re owed.”
Haven was being nice up until now? I’d hate to see what Nereus thinks is the cruel version of Haven. Brimstone and flames perhaps? A hot poker to the side? Stinging nettles in my bed?
Haven is quiet a moment longer and then says, “Ana is more powerful than we thought.”
Hearing my name, hearing it in his voice, makes my stomach knot. I like it much more than orphan or Hearthtender.
And he thinks I’m powerful!
I’m at once flush with pride and with fear. On the one hand, they’re plotting against me. On the other, Haven thinks I’m powerful.
“So?” Nereus says. “Find her goddamned weakness and use it against her.”
“If you’re so worried about winning, why don’t you sabotage her? Maybe I don’t want to play your fucking game any longer.”
There’s a scuffle. Someone is slammed against the wall and the candelabra on the fireplace mantle rattles.
I can’t help myself. I peek around the curtain.
Nereus has Haven pressed against the wall, his jacket collar clutched in hand.
“Do I have to remind you that a Titan has escaped Tartarus? Do I have to remind you what’s at stake?”
I go still.
Trepidation shivers along my spine.
A Titan?
Out free in Olympus?
This is bad.
This is very bad.
The Titans have been imprisoned in Tartarus for over a millennium ever since Zeus rebelled against his father, Cronus and won. Cronus and several other Titans were locked away in the Underworld.
If one has escaped, it can’t be for anything good.
“Yes, all right,” Haven chokes out.
Nereus lets him go. “You absolutely must win. Can you imagine that girl in Hades’s army? Fighting a Titan?”
“Of course not.”
“Then start taking this seriously.”
“I am.” He huffs. “I will.”
“Make her lose in the next round.”
Haven straightens the lapel of his jacket. “Don’t worry, brother. I’m sure I can come up with something clever.”
“Good man.” Nereus roughly pats Haven on the back and then pulls the door open and leaves.
Haven stays behind in the parlor for another minute. It’s so quiet I don’t dare breathe.
I want to look at him, but I’m too afraid of him spotting me.
Does he sense he isn’t alone?
If he does, he gives no indication of it.
Finally, his footsteps fall away as he leaves and I exhale in relief.
Except now everything is worse.
Except now there are bigger problems than me just winning the trials.
And I don’t even know where to begin to survive it all.
Haven plans to sabotage me.
And now there is a Titan on the loose.
Chapter 22
I make sure I’m in the carriage that Haven isn’t when we return to Hades’s House. I end up squished between Kal and Gregor.
When we get back to the house, I make a hasty exit and hurry to my room. I’m in no mood for more mental dueling with Haven. I don’t have any energy left for it.
When I flop onto my bed, my dress still on, I’m surprised to find I’m happy to be home. And then I’m surprised to find that I’ve come to think of Hades’s House as home.
I’m not exactly sure when that happened, but here I am.
When there’s a knock on my door, I think to ignore it, wondering if it’s Haven come to begin his sabotaging. When the knock sounds a second time, I huff and go to answer it.
But it’s Max on the other side.
“How was it?” he asks.
Max wasn’t invited to the celebration. I want to divulge all of the details of the food and the decorations and revelry, but I don’t have time for that.
I return to my bed and prop myself up against the headboard. “Do you know about the Titan?” I ask.
Max goes still. There’s a pained look on his face that says yes, he definitely does know about it.
“It’s not my place to talk about those things. But yes, I overheard Nereus and Hades earlier.”
/>
“Which Titan was it that escaped?”
“They didn’t say, but I get the feeling they know which one it was.”
Max sits on the foot of my bed.
“Should we be worried?” I ask.
He lifts a shoulder. “The Titans have been in the Underworld for my entire lifetime.”
The way he says it—his lifetime—leads me to believe he’s older than he looks. That’s the thing with the descendants of gods—we might not be immortal, exactly, but we age slowly. Some more slowly than others. It all depends on how much godly blood we have running in our veins.
“The gods will deal with it,” Max says, sounding like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me.
“Of course.”
“So the party,” he says again.
“Right. I hid in an empty parlor.”
He bursts out laughing. “I’d probably do the same. But now you have no gossip to share with me.”
I think of Nereus manhandling Haven. At the time, they were threatening my demise and that was all I was focused on, but now...when I think back to the threat in Nereus’s voice, I feel pity for Haven.
Hestia never put any pressure on me to do anything at all. Expectations were low. Haven must have felt pressured his entire life. I always thought his name was a golden ticket, something he could pull out whenever he wanted to get away with something he shouldn’t. But maybe it’s more burden than benefit.
Still, he promised his brother he’d make me lose and I can’t forget that.
I must keep my guard up with Haven at all times.
I want to tell Max all about what I witnessed, but it feels too private, too much of a secret to share.
“Sorry,” I say. “I wish I had more.” I cover a yawn. “Maybe next time?”
He stands and scratches at the back of his head. “I really do hope you win, Ana. I’d hate to lose you.”
I smile up at him, my vision muzzy with sleep now.
“I’d hate to lose you too.”
Hades Descendants (The Games of the Gods Book 1) Page 10