Page 1 of Dark Restraint

1

Ariadne

Ten Weeks Ago

My father gave me strict instructions to stay in the house on this afternoon of blood and death. It’s the smart thing to do. No matter what else is true, I want to live. I’ve shared what information I could in the only way I knew how, and it’s up to Apollo and Cassandra to figure out the rest. Strangely, knowing that doesn’t make me feel better.

But then, I’ve always been a coward.

Tension seems to bleed into the hot and sticky afternoon air, pressing it against my skin as I slip out the back door and onto the grounds. If I was braver, I would try to warn my father’s party guests of what’s coming. I would put myself between them and danger.

Instead, I head for the maze. It’s a monstrous creation, predating my father’s ownership of this house. The previous owner was incredibly eccentric—or is, I suppose, since Hermes is here at the party right now. This house and its grounds feel like something out of a novel, a fantasy world where turning down the wrong path can land you in a portal to another realm. I’m far too old to believe in that kind of nonsense, but that doesn’t stop me from entering the maze and winding my way through the tall walls of green.

Since my father brought us to the countryside on the outskirts of Olympus, I found myself coming to the maze more and more often. Today, I don’t even have to count the turns. My feet know the path by heart. Within minutes, I reach the center.

No one else in my family bothers to come here. My father didn’t even notice that I’d absconded with several of the lawn chairs and gone so far as to plant flowers. I doubt I’ll be around next year to see them bloom, but gardening calms me all the same. Claiming this space has been the tiniest of rebellions, nothing compared to what I did at the party itself, but I can’t help the thrill that goes through me as I sink into my chair. This is as close to private as someone like me can manage. Well, except for…

I hear him well before he finds me. He makes no effort to hide the weight of his footsteps. Even though there’s a secret part of me that awakens in his presence, I can’t help the shiver of dread. Everything’s changed. It was always going to, but knowing that doesn’t bring me any peace. My father has had over a decade to put the foundations in place for this plan. To train two unstoppable killers to do his dirty work.

One of them is hunting me right now, tracing my route through the maze as if I’ve left behind a red string to lead him to me. The truth is far less magical. Asterion comes to the maze nearly as often as I do; even in this refuge, I can’t escape him.

Not that I try very hard.

Today of all days, though, I don’t want to see him. Not when he’s finally enacted the plan my father crafted him for. Taking the life of one of the Thirteen so that he can slide into that position and claim the title for himself. Somewhere on the grounds, Theseus is doing the same. All in service of the destabilization of Olympus. With two of my father’s household sitting among the most powerful positions in the city, the real reign of terror can begin.

I can’t make myself look up as his shadow falls over me, blocking out the sun. The Minotaur. A presence so fearsome that my father doesn’t refer to him by name. No one does. According to most who have cause to brush against him, he’s more monster than man.

He’s always been Asterion to me. At least until today.

I might be a coward, but I can’t sit here and ignore the truth indefinitely. I drag in a breath that feels hot and sticky on my tongue and look at him. I understand why everyone fears him. With his massive body, his scars, and the blank look in his dark eyes, he is terrifying. He’s also beautiful in his own way: long, dark-red hair and medium-brown skin, strong hands that are just as capable of building things as they are of holding a weapon, and his mouth…sensual and decadent.

His eyes aren’t blank right now. They’re so hot, I’m surprised I don’t burn up on the spot. I may have been studying his form the way I always do when it’s just us, but he’s doing exactly the same thing—drinking me in as if he might never get another chance. There’s a level of desperation to the chemistry that snaps between us. It can never be.

He is my father’s perfect weapon, and I’m the perfect daughter, destined to be married for the family’s political gain. In no world would my father give my hand to a murderous orphan, part of his household or no.

I lick my lips without meaning to. “Is it done?”

“Ariadne.” His voice is just as scarred as his body, rough and jagged. He takes one slow, stalking step toward me and then another, eating up the distance between us with long strides until he can lean down and plant his hands on the arms of the chair to either side of me. I’m not a small woman; what my body lacks in height, it makes up for in plentiful curves. I’ll never be the delicate little doll my father wishes for, but I’ve never felt anything less than desirable when staring into Asterion’s eyes.

He’s so close. I can see the sweat dampening his skin and making his dark shirt press firmly against his carved torso. Gods help me, but I inhale deeply, chasing the scent that is him and him alone. “Answer my question,” I whisper.

“I let her get away.” He releases the chair with one hand to clasp it loosely around my throat. “For you. I will weather your father’s rage. For you.”

I can’t catch my breath, and it has nothing to do with him restricting my airflow. He’s not. But in all the years we’ve known each other, he’s been incredibly careful never to touch me. Not like this. Not with intent and…possession. “You can’t talk like that.”

“Can’t I?” He leans closer yet, until he blocks out the very sky. Until his cheek brushes mine as he speaks directly into my ear. “Now we’ve both betrayed him.”

He knows.

But that’s impossible. There’s no way he could know that I left information for Apollo to find. Now is the time to push him away, to demand he remember his place. To retreat to a safe distance with the reminder that I will never be his.

I don’t move. I don’t speak. I can barely seem to breathe at all. Because he’s right. I have betrayed my father at this party. I will likely do it again and again in the coming conflict if I think it can mitigate the loss of life. But betraying him now? Like this? It’s nothing less than selfish.

I don’t know that I care.

“Tell me no, Ariadne.”

“What?”

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