Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(110)
Why didn’t we do this sooner?
I was so content, I’d forgotten to ask when they’d gotten my name permanently placed on their skin.
Sleep pulled me under.
40
THE HUNTER
KHARON
Eyes fluttering open, intoxicating heat surrounded me.
I squeezed Alexis against my chest with a satisfied yawn. Sometime in the middle of the night, I’d pulled her from under the covers and draped her on top of me.
She was a delicious weighted blanket.
Divine.
Augustus’s bronze thigh was hooked over both of us, pinning us in place. Her name was tattooed across it.
We’d gotten the ink the day after our wedding, the day she’d disappeared.
It was a promise that we’d earn Alexis—our wife—back, with bloodshed or tenderness, whatever it took. No cost was too high. Not when it came to her.
And now she was lying in my arms, trusting me to hold her while she slept.
I’d thought standing over her all night, watching her breaths rise and fall, was what my soul yearned for.
I was wrong.
This was what I’d been born for—clutching her close, our hearts beating in rhythm, while she snored into my neck.
I smiled into her curls.
Before the competition, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept, let alone rested peacefully for hours on end.
All it had taken was a week of isolation with my wife—the punishment was the cure.
Hands tracing over sleep-heated skin, I mapped the marks that were scattered haphazardly across her back. They covered the front of her torso too.
Her skin was a patchwork of survival—cigarette burns, a dagger wound on her sternum, jagged notches from what looked like the ends of twigs, the indents of perfect edges like she’d been thrown against the corner of a counter.
My lips quivered, falling.
I tucked my face into the crook of her neck, moisture blurring my eyes as my chest heaved raggedly.
Life had not been easy for my wife, yet she’d endured and was still so … good.
It was no wonder we’d fallen in love with her. Alexis was like no one else on earth. Angelus Romae. No creature, Spartan, or human could ever compare to her.
She was divine.
She was my wife.
She was my other soul.
I’ve found you again.
41
THE ELDEST HEIR
AUGUSTUS: SGC DAY 10
It was a bright summer’s day, the mountain air scented from wildflowers. Poco sat on my shoulder, purring as he gnawed noisily on my crown.
I’d seen the world, but the Dolomites stood apart, surreal in their beauty. Sacred land.
The electric dome hummed as it caught the light.
Black scorch marks across the stone were the only signs that hellfire had been burning a day earlier.
In front of me, Alexis leaned into Charlie as they held hands, knuckles white with fear for their friend.
Kharon traced along the necklace he’d gifted her, tattooed thumb stroking down the back of her neck.
Just looking at my wife made my chest ache—she was too good for us—and yet I knew in my bones, there was nothing that would ever make me leave her side.
Kharon felt the same.
I twirled one of her curls and she shot me a smile over her shoulder.
My black heart cracked.
I was devastatingly obsessed with my wife.
So obsessed that anxiety gnawed sharply at my gut, because at the edge of the stadium, Zeus looked smug with sparks of electricity leaping off his shoulders.
What the fuck type of game is he playing at?
There was no reason he’d actually suspect Achilles and Patro—or any of us for that matter—of helping Medusa.
A smattering of applause filled the stadium as Drex walked out onto the sand holding a broadsword.
He looked terrified.
Alexis stood up and clapped, hollering at the top of her lungs. Helen, Charlie, and Agatha joined her as they cheered for the nervous young man.
“Wahoo,” Kharon drawled sarcastically.
I kicked him.
He didn’t look repentant.
He still hadn’t gotten over his jealousy with their friendship (neither had I).
“One round—two labors!” Zeus announced. His famous lightning scepter was noticeably absent. “For the first Olympian to ever participate.” There was another smattering of confused applause. Sparta didn’t know how to feel.
Drex pulled his shoulders back, sword pointed at the entrance.
The gate lifted.
Two exotic-looking beasts stepped out onto the sand: Chimeras.
The crowd “oohed.”
Chimeras were three-headed beasts—they had the body of a lion, the head of a goat protruding from the middle of their backs, and a tail that ended in a snake’s head. Rare creatures—and they lived in the wilds of North Africa.
Drex visibly trembled as they prowled toward him.
The Olympians were going easy on him.
This should be quick for him.
Chimeras were twice as small as Nemean lions, and while dangerous, they were only a class five beast because of their shorter stature. They breathed out fire, but only in tiny amounts.
He’d be fine.
Both beasts sprinted across the sand toward Drex. They opened their mouths—flames burst from their maws.