Funny how he only remembers the last part of that saying when it suits him. When we came to Olympus, things seemed simple enough. Take the Ares title and secure a spot for the rest of my family in this cesspool of a city. Except nothing has gone to plan since we arrived here. I was eliminated in the second round instead of going on to win the whole tournament. More, that little bitch left my knee permanently fucked up. Not even surgery could fix it.
If we were anyone else, that would have been the end of it.
We’re not anyone else, though. Minos isn’t anyone else. He’s a powerful man beholden to someone even more powerful. A single failure isn’t enough to set someone like that back. I’m not convinced he didn’t plan for us to miss the mark in the Ares tournament, because he pivoted fast enough afterward.
“You never said that taking the title like this would sink me up to my neck in political bullshit.” Political bullshit like marrying that witch Aphrodite. From the moment I saw her, I’ve hated her and wanted her in equal measures. She’s too smart, too gorgeous, too good at getting under my skin. A marriage would be bad enough—it’s not something I’ve ever wanted—but with this pairing, every day will be a battlefield.
“If you’d succeeded at claiming the Ares title, you would have married Helen.” An edge creeps into Minos’s voice. “You failed, so here we are. Helen would have been a more biddable wife, but the dice have been rolled.”
I highly doubt the woman who maimed me would ever be described as biddable, but I’m not about to argue. It doesn’t matter, anyway. I’m not marrying Helen. I’m marrying Aphrodite. “I didn’t fail twice,” I snap.
I’m one of the Thirteen most powerful people in Olympus now, but since I killed the last Hephaestus and stepped into his place, there’s been nothing but strings tying me down. Can’t do this. Can’t do that. Have to marry her. In all this shit, no one mentioned that I’d lose all free will the moment I lost my name. I fucking hate it.
Minos draws himself up. He’s a big man, nearly as broad as me and an inch taller. He’s aged in the time we’ve been here, the lines deeper around his eyes and mouth. All my life, he’s been a godlike figure. He’s the one who rescued me from that orphanage, the one who taught me everything I know and carved me into the warrior I am today.
I might not agree with all his shit, but I owe him everything.
I start to drag my hand through my hair, but he catches my wrist. “You’ll muss yourself.”
“I could give a fuck.”
His mouth thins. “Appearances matter here, Hephaestus. That’s a lesson you need to learn, and fast.”
Hephaestus. Not Theseus. The only person who uses my real name anymore is Pandora, and I haven’t seen much of her in the last two weeks. My fiancée is holding her hostage in the wedding party, though Aphrodite would never be so plain as to say as much. “My name is Theseus.”
“Not anymore.” Minos looks me up and down. “You’re no use to me if you can’t do your job. We’re not done here in Olympus, not by a long shot, and I can’t waste time babysitting you. I have things to take care of.”
Things to take care of. Right. Not that he tells me much anymore. My name isn’t the only thing I lost when I became Hephaestus. The title put me on the other side of the line from Minos, or at least it feels that way. I can’t shake the feeling he doesn’t trust me now. “I got it,” I finally manage. “I won’t disappoint you.”
“I know you won’t, my boy. Not again.” He glances at his watch. “It’s time.”
A protest rises up my throat, but I swallow it back down. It’s too late to turn back. It was too late the moment we came to this fucking city. I follow Minos out into the hallway where my groomsmen are gathered. My foster brothers, the Minotaur and Icarus…and the two men I didn’t choose. Eros, a fucking fixer for Olympus. And Zeus, my future brother-in-law. They couldn’t have spelled out the threat more clearly than if they’d written it in blood.
Zeus is a white guy with blond hair and blue eyes so cold, they give even me pause. He raises an eyebrow. “Problem?”
“Not at all.” Minos is all projected good cheer. “No cold feet to speak of.”
“Good.” So much threat in four letters. “Let’s go.”
We file out of the building and into the yard or courtyard or whatever the fuck this space is. It’s packed with people and there are flowers everywhere. As if this is a real wedding, instead of a charade.