From Darkness (Hearts & Arrows Book 3)(4)

Selfishly, she was glad the whole ordeal was difficult for him, too. Because every single cell in her body was focused on him, and knowing he was affected made it a little bit easier for her to endure.

Not much, but every bit helped.

Artemis moved into Dita’s line of vision, setting her bowl of Cheerios on the table and taking the seat directly across from Dita.

The huntress had never fully adopted the new ways, not in the way the rest of Olympus had. Dita would have paid a token just to see her in jeans and a leather jacket instead of short blue hunting robes and calfskin sandals. Or to see her black hair spilling down her back instead of twisted and braided around her silver diadem, inset with an opal moon, flanked by topaz stars.

“Aphrodite,” she said with a sardonic smile and a nod.

“Artemis.”

Perry shook her head, her eyes on Artemis’s bowl. “You’re so adamant about keeping the old ways, so why aren’t you eating porridge or something?”

Artemis shrugged. “I like Cheerios.”

Dita could still feel Ares even though he was across the room, drinking coffee and sullenly leaning against the counter. But, instead of looking at him, she kept her eyes on Artemis’s. She was almost lost for a moment in the brilliant blue of her irises, the deepest shade of twilight, her long lashes lining her lids black against the milky-white moonlight of her skin.

It’s a little early in the day to be waxing poetic, Dita, she told herself as she tried to shake off her rambling nerves flitting around her stomach like moths.

She laid on a smile she didn’t feel. “So, Artemis, have you already chosen your player? Not that it matters since you’re probably going to lose.” Dita glanced at her nails.

Artemis’s eyes narrowed. “I have chosen, and I will not lose.”

“Statistics say you’re wrong, so I wouldn’t go making any foolhardy bets. Especially not now. I’ve got nothing but time to spend on plotting ways to take you down.”

Artemis rolled her eyes. “Gods, Aphrodite. May I eat breakfast before you start acting like a child?”

Dita threaded her fingers under her chin and laughed. “Okay, but eat fast.”

Artemis shoveled cereal into her mouth, scowling around her spoon.

The second the conversation died, Dita’s bravado seeped out like a leaky tire. Her eyes found Ares again. His eyes were almost hidden in the shadow of his brow, but they were on her. The feeling was so strong, he could have been touching her.

She realized she was holding her breath and breathed deep, forcing herself to look at Artemis again.

“So, what’s your player like?” Dita asked, desperate for a distraction.

“You will know soon enough,” was all she offered before taking another bite of cereal.

“Ah, come on. Not even a teeny-tiny hint?”

“You have enough of an advantage as it is.”

Dita’s cheer slipped into a pout, however fake it had been. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Artemis set her spoon down and leaned forward, raising a black eyebrow. “You can’t be serious.”

“As a heart attack.” Dita leaned forward in answer.

Artemis chuckled with a condescending shake of her head. “You have an unfair advantage. Your love matches are practically impossible to stop. This competition is, by its very nature, unbalanced. Very little skill is required for you to win.”

Dita’s ears were hot, her cheeks warm. “You think this is easy?” she asked, her tone sharp. “I’ll admit that a love match is hard to stop, but I have an extremely tight time limit.”

“Four weeks is ample time for you to make two humans fall in love,” Artemis said.

Dita was too ranty to note that she was being baited. “It’s not ample, given the humans you guys always choose. I mean, last round, both players almost died. You all love to choose the most fucked up players you can find, which makes it really, really hard to combat. Winning takes wit and planning. I have to constantly adapt and detour to get the humans to each other. It’s not like I’m sitting around, painting my nails and eating chocolates and…and…I don’t know. What the fuck do you think I do all day?”

“I care very little.” Artemis shrugged.

Dita’s teeth ground together as she glared across the table. “It does take skill, and I don’t have an advantage,” she said a little louder than she’d meant to.

“You are set up to win, and we are set up to fail. The game is rigged.”

“It is not!” Dita slapped the table.

A hush fell over the kitchen, but Artemis only smiled.

Dita pushed her chair back and stood, her eyes never leaving Artemis. “Let’s go. You and me. Right now. Fuck your Cheerios.” She turned on her heel and blew out of the room.

The Olympians abandoned their breakfasts for the drama, filing into the theater room behind Dita. She walked past the rows of leather armchairs to stand in front of the screen with her jaw clenched and lips pursed.

Perry stopped next to her. “Breathe.”

She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. “I am breathing, dammit.”

“Okay. Choke, hag. Better?”

“Actually, yes. Thank you.”

Ares was all but forgotten. Dita’s thoughts were busy obsessing over Artemis.