Page 33 of Blood of Olympus

And like the idiot that I was, I took the bait.

“I’m no prince.” I grunted against the strain of another block. “Never was, never will be.”

“No, you’ll just be king instead.” His grin was all teeth — all bite.

“Fuck off,” I retorted.

Clearly not the most mature response, but Furies, I was seething.

Aros cackled. “That’s it, let it all out. Tell me what’s really bothering you. Because I know it’s not that you haven’t tasted our Queen yet.” He winked.

“Don’t speak of her like that!” I roared, igniting.

Violet-hued lightning arced out of each of my fingertips as I threw them wide, sword forgotten in the sand. My eyes burned with the rage I could no longer contain. Every inch of my sweat-covered skin was now alight, rippling with electricity.

“There he is!” Aros shouted, his gruff voice echoing throughout the empty arena, bouncing off the vacant stands. “Zeusy the second!”

The earthen ground of the arena trembled as I let my power fly free. Sizzling bolts of lightning were set loose, hitting every solid surface until I was fully spent. I had nothing left to give, but for a tiny spark held in the palm of my right hand.

I panted as I watched it dance, wrath quickly replaced by the howling guilt it really stemmed from. The spark sank beneath my skin, fury and power both exhausted. My lightning would replenish, and if I continued like this, my fury would, too.

“I burned her,” I whispered, the admission costing more than I thought it would.

“What do you mean?” Aros asked, peering out from behind his bronze shield.

“I mean my power shot out and zapped her cheek.”

“And?”

“My gift hurt her! I hurt her, Aros,” I confessed, anguish distorting my face. “I felt her flinch… saw the burn mark marring her skin… I felt the pain as it zapped her.”

He said nothing for a while, then gestured at the still-quivering ground. He sat, quirking a ginger brow until I joined him with a huff.

“Did you mean to hurt her?” he ventured.

“Of course not!”

“Then apologise and move on.” He shrugged.

“It’s not that simple… and that’s not the point,” I bit back.

“Fine. Well… what is the point then?”

“The point is that I lost control!”

“Ah.” He pursed his lips while his eyes danced around the arena until they landed on the archery target twenty metres away. “Hit that,” he said, pointing to it. “Right in the middle.”

Indignant, I frowned. “I have nothing left to hit it with.”

He grinned again, pulling a flask out of some hidden pocket in his armour. “Well then, my friend. Let’s pass a little time while it rebuilds, shall we?”

I swiped the flask from his outstretched fingers, smirking before tipping it back and taking a hearty swig of honey mead.

“Oi, leave me some!”

I slowly raised the flagon and sipped again, thoroughly enjoying the crease between his brows as it puckered further.

“So,” he began. “How goes it with the young queen?” He leaned in conspiratorially, wicked smirk in place. “Does she taste as sweet as she smells?”