Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(106)

Those words from anyone else would have been over-the-top.

The eldest heir to the House of Ares and the Hunter meant what they said.

My head was spinning, and it wasn’t from the dancing.

Badump-Badump-Badump-Badump.

They were speaking of treason—a lifetime incarceration in the most dangerous prison in the world—just because they wanted to spare me from the cruelty of the Spartan world.

Dangerously out of sorts, I leaned forward, resting my head against Augustus’s chest. He jolted at my touch. His heart raced, matching the beat of my own.

Music played—it was Beethoven.

A phantom pain scorched the shell of my left ear, Kharon’s ear.

It would be so easy to accept what they were offering. Of course I didn’t want to fight. I yearned to sit in a dark room solving esoteric mathematical equations that most likely had no practical implications.

But Ceres was back in a villa, waiting for me to return. She believed in me.

And I didn’t want husbands who tore themselves to pieces just to keep me whole.

“No,” I said calmly as we spun. “I can do it myself.”

Being afraid wasn’t a good enough reason not to fight.

Augustus’s chest vibrated beneath my ear. “We’re here for you. Please don’t forget … we’re yours, Alexis. We’ll do anything for you.”

Kharon made a noise of agreement, his hips brushing against me intimately.

Flushing, a thought struck me—a ridiculously inappropriate thought.

I glanced up at Augustus nervously. “Actually … there is something.”

Midnight eyes twinkled. “What is it, my sweet carus?” he asked.

Kharon’s fingers bit harder into my waist.

“If I’m going to die in battle, I want to have sex,” I blurted before I lost my courage.

We stopped spinning.

I studied the floor.

“You’re not going to die.” Augustus’s fingers tilted my chin up, so our gazes met. “We don’t want you to do this because of some misplaced fear of perishing in combat—”

“It’s not that,” I said in a rush. “I’m ready.”

“Carissima,” Kharon whispered against my temple. “You’re playing with fire.”

I cleared my throat, a weakness washing over me.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Nyx hissed as she coiled around my shoulders. “It’s just mating—it’s not that deep. This is so embarrassing to watch … I’ll meet you in the stands tomorrow.” Scales slid down my legs as she slithered away.

“Wait?” I stared down at the empty space where she’d disappeared. “You can’t just leave me?”

“Uh—yes, I can,” Nyx called back. “Bye, bitch.”

There was a commotion a few feet away as an Olympian tripped mid-spin and threw his male partner to the ground—the two men crashed onto the dance floor.

People screamed as they fell over them.

Nyx laughed maniacally as she slithered invisibly through the symposium.

A siren tripped, tossing a tray of ambrosia into the air.

I sighed and turned back to the men—Augustus was staring at my mouth, his eyes half-lidded. Pure want was written across his face.

He was temptation incarnate, and suddenly, I was a sinner.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” Augustus asked slowly, hardness pressing against my stomach where he leaned into me.

Kharon shifted his hips against the small of my back, pushing into the curve of my spine. “Oh, princess,” he said with a vicious bite. “The depraved things I’m going to introduce you to.”

“Do it,” I taunted.

Augustus grabbed my hand—he pulled me off the dance floor; we were heading toward the exit.

Kharon gripped the back of my neck tightly.

I glanced up at him—his eyes were a sharp, steel blue—he wore the same expression he did before he hunted Titans, before he went to battle.

Augustus snapped his fingers at some Olympian guards who were slumped by the door.

“We’re going back to our room,” he said. “Escort us.”

The guards jumped to attention. One got the door for us and held it open, the rest hurried after obediently.

My husbands didn’t release me as we moved swiftly through the maze that sprawled beneath the ancient coliseum.

We stopped in front of our room.

A guard fumbled with the key, struggling to open the door.

“Hurry.” Augustus’s deep voice echoed ominously through the narrow stone tunnel.

The guard paled as he desperately jiggled the key in the lock.

“We have to do everything these days.” Augustus stepped forward and took the key, jamming it into the lock, and turning it with sheer brute force.

Hinges groaned as he yanked the heavy door open.

“Lock it up behind us,” Augustus ordered as he pointed at the chain hanging on the stone wall.

“Of course—sir,” the guards chorused in unison, then bowed deeply.

Who’s really captive?

Suddenly, it wasn’t so clear.

Augustus held the door open, escorting me into the dim room, lit only by a single copper sconce, burning low on the far wall.

Kharon’s hand never left my spine as he walked closely behind me.