Page 60 of Flame and Fury

Ares plucks the bandage off my chest before I realize what he’s doing. I grab his hand, gasping in surprise as I shove it away. He can’t find out how quickly the brand has healed. As far as the gods know, I’m a human.

I’m not fast enough. All I can do is stand there helplessly as Ares stares at the almost fully healed, raised scar on my chest. Is he going to snap my neck? How long will it take for him to figure out what I am?

At first, there’s only rage burning in his eyes at the sight of Nathaniel’s symbol burned into my skin. But then the corner of his lip tilts up.

A frisson of fear snakes up my spine.

“That certainly seems to be healing quickly.”

I don’t bother looking down. I already know the wound has turned into a scar. It’s still brutal to look at, but it’s not raw and fresh anymore. Another few days and it will be gone completely. I swallow thickly and swipe the bandage from Ares’s hand. I’m so tired of being confused all the fucking time. Does the fact that Nathaniel branded me piss Ares off? Or does he think it’s amusing? His next words only serve to further jumble my brain.

“I have a feeling you’ll win this game yet, Wren Torres.”

I slap the bandage back on my chest, hiding the mark once again. “I’m out of the games, Ares, god of war. Kind of hard to win a competition if you're not playing anymore.”

Ares steps back, his hands casually tucked into his pockets, that devilish look back on his face. “I’m not talking about the Olympus Games. Just remember, you have more friends than you may think.”

With those cagey words, Ares flicks the snake charm of my necklace. He winks and saunters out of the room while I gape after him.

CHAPTER34

WREN

Grima is waiting in the hallway when I finally leave the dining room. The gods have moved on and are nowhere in sight. I wonder if Ares will join the others for a drink or if he’s leaving after dropping that bomb on me. I follow Grima without giving him my attention, too lost in the rush of thoughts and questions running through my head.

Ares knows what I am, doesn’t he? He figured it out. Why didn’t he kill me? Was he saying that he wants to join the good guys? Not that the gods are either all good or bad. Just like the rest of us, they exist in shades of gray. Hearing him tell it, some of the gods learned their lesson the last time around and others did not. Is Ares one who has seen the error of his ways?

“Don’t think that just because you were invited to one dinner with the gods that you’re special.” Grima’s whiny voice pulls me from my thoughts. We’re almost back to the room where Nathaniel has stowed his growing collection of female champions. He doesn’t appear to be interested in the men.

I fix my gaze on the greasy man before me. I taste his transgressions on my tongue. He has wronged many people. Being around all of these terrible people has my Fury writhing to be freed. They need to be held accountable for their actions, but my hands are tied. I let a little of the Fury surface in my eyes. Grima won’t know what he’s looking at, but he will feel exposed, he will feel fear.

A low whine squeaks out of his throat, and he lurches away from me. His hands shake as he unlocks the door. Unlike earlier, he doesn’t push me inside. This time he takes a step back, giving me a wide berth. The door slams shut behind me as soon as I step into the room.

Saffron and Lark both look up at me with surprise.

“Did Grima just run out of here without shouting something insulting at us?” Lark asks with both delicate brows raised.

I shrug and head over to my cot. I need to find some other clothes. There are no closets in here, no dressers. Lark’s worn-out clothing looks like it’s been lived in for a few days. Saffron is still in her boudoir attire. My blood-stained clothes are thrown in a corner and haven’t been removed from the room, but the thought of putting the blood-crusted, ripped, and dirty rags back on makes my skin itch. One small bright spot is my boots. I’d say thank the gods, but I don’t want to thank most of them. Maybe Hades. And I could sneak one in there for Ares as well. Maybe they aren’t really on my side in all of this, but it feels like they are. I’m going to trust my instincts. They haven’t failed me this far.

Except with Atlas. Maybe. I still don’t know how to sort through my feelings for the man. Attraction, betrayal, lust, heat, anger, hope, frustration, surprise. He elicits every emotion on the spectrum from me. My heart aches, wondering where he is now. Did he get auctioned off too? Or is he being tortured somewhere?

I can’t think about that. Right now, my main focus is to get out of here. Once we’re free from Nathaniel, we’ll figure out where Atlas is. One thing at a time.

I swipe my boots off the ground, kicking off the heels that have been pinching my feet all night. Spinning around, I focus on Lark. I’m about to tell her we need to get out of here when the lock clicks and the door opens. Estella rushes inside.

“You need to leave. Now.” Estella gasps, pressing her back into the door like she’s holding out intruders. She has a key to the door clutched in her hand.

A pang of betrayal stings, even though Nathaniel’s revelation wasn’t all that surprising. “Is this some test?” I stare at her, my hands on my hips.

The guilt in Estella’s eyes screams back at me. I shake my head. Sitting down on a cot, I ignore her as I pull on my boots. She doesn’t need to know I’m already planning to get out of here.

Lark hops up off the bed, looking ready to fight. Saffron is lying on the cot, watching us with a disinterested gaze.

“Wren.” Estella takes a step forward, wringing her hands.

I jerk my head up. “Nathaniel mentioned you’ve been a good little spy. Passing along all kinds of interesting pieces of information about me.”

Estella rushes over to my side, dropping to a squat in front of me. “No. I mean. Yes, he has all the stylists reporting back up to him, but I swear I never told him anything important. Only things that they already knew. Like what you did for a living and the fact that your parents were dead.”

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