Page 33 of The Games Gods Play
I glance away. Forearms aren’t sexy. They are just body parts.
“Here.” He takes my right hand in his, clasping them palm to palm, then closes his eyes and whispers a few words I don’t catch. Almost immediately, he jerks his gaze down to our hands.
No, not to our hands. To his arm.
As if he’d roused sleeping spirits, lines appear in the wake of his touch, and I stare as tattoos that weren’t there a second ago materialize on his skin. Not tattoos, though—not black lines of ink. These are colorful and glittering, and each set of simple lines forms a different animal—a blue owl, a green panther, a purple fox, a red tarantula, and…a tiny, adorable silver butterfly.
As if they are alive, they move across his skin, the tarantula greeting the butterfly with what seems like a little wave of one of its legs, the owl flapping its wings at the snarling panther. I can’t look away, fascination holding me in thrall.
The owl in particular looks at Hades in question. Asking permission, I think?
“It’s okay. Go to your new mistress and help her,” Hades commands.
The tarantula, closest to our clasped hands, is the first to move, scuttling across his skin and onto mine, and I gasp at the sensation of tiny bubbles as it finds a new home on my wrist. Then the fox slinks forward, its tail the last thing to disappear around Hades’ palm before it sits on my arm and wraps that tail around its paws, cocking its head in curiosity. The other animals follow, picking their places on my skin and blinking up at me.
All except the butterfly.
“You too,” he says. But she stays in place, wings slowly flapping.
“Looks like I’m not the only one who doesn’t listen to you,” I whisper.
His gaze snaps up to my face, but I don’t meet it.
“It’s fine,” I tell the loyal little creature. “You can stay with him.”
“You promised to obey me, Lyra.”
I raise my eyebrows, then offer my most pleasant smile. “Did I?” I never really agreed.
Hades releases my hand, the warmth from his rough palm against mine seeps away…and the absence feels like a loss.
Get a grip.
“You’re lucky,” he says finally. “They haven’t left my arm for someone else since my mother gave them to me.”
His mother? The Titaness Rhea? A being he and his brothers fought and caged in Tartarus with all the other Titans. These are from her? I stare at them.
“Draw your finger from your elbow to your wrist,” Hades tells me.
When I do, the animals disappear, closing their eyes and lying down as they sink into my skin and fade away.
“Wow,” I whisper.
“Now, when you awaken them, they will listen to you.”
I raise my gaze to his. “To do what?”
“Whatever you need. They can bring you items. Or you can send them to find information—scout out the best route, overhear conversations, spy on other champions.” His lips tilt. “Maybe on the gods, if you’re careful.”
Sounds like a good way to land myself another curse.
“You don’t have to send them all at the same time,” he says. “Just like the animals they represent, each has different talents you can use.”
I look back down at my skin, which is now blank as if they were never there. As if they’re not sleeping under the surface.
Hades clears his throat. “You are also allowed a gift from me personally…”
He pauses.
