Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(125)

My tears stopped falling—a fragment of vision came back—Augustus was staring down at me like he’d seen a ghost.

“She’s—” Augustus’s breath hitched. “Partially blind.”

“What?” Kharon stepped back, shaking his head, cuffs rattling. “No, that … that can’t … that can’t be. We would have known if—”

“It’s true.”

My voice sounded far away, like it belonged to someone else.

Neither man moved.

The stadium echoed with murmurs of confusion and shouts for violence.

Kharon lunged forward, his face hovering in front of mine, close enough I could see the silver flecks in his eyes.

“WHY?” he screamed, then his voice dropped to a barely there whisper. “Why … didn’t you tell us that your left eye was … blind?”

“Because—” I cleared my throat. “I’m okay.”

They looked at me with horror.

“I survived,” I said, needing them to understand.

The crowd started shouting slurs, turning violent as they demanded the action we weren’t giving them.

Kharon pressed his trembling lips to my forehead.

We breathed together, deep shaky inhales, for there were no words left to be said.

Augustus leaned in, resting his arms against mine, a mimicry of a hug, all he could do with his hands bound before him.

“THIRD ROUND!” Zeus’s voice boomed, crackling with violence. “FIGHT OR YOU WILL ALL LOSE AND BE BRANDED.” He slammed his scepter down on the stone podium, but the sky shone, clear and blue above. The stormy weather had cleared out.

The moment broke.

I pulled back, stumbling away from my husbands.

This was Sparta. We were Chthonics.

There was no choice—we had to fight.

“Defeat me,” I said, waving the heavy rod through the air. Nyx was still invisibly wrapped around it. “Just do it. Get it over with. I can’t …”

“Stab us both,” Augustus ordered as he straightened.

“Excuse me?” I shook my head. “That’s not—”

Augustus looked down at me with pity. “You will defeat us.”

Kharon nodded.

There was no softness left in either of them. They’d donned their Spartan exteriors, the armor they wore to survive in this brutal world.

I wasn’t looking at my husbands.

The eldest heir to the House of War and the Hunter stood before me, merciless, unyielding.

So this was how it was going to go.

Pulling back my shoulders, I straightened to my full height—matching their postures—the heiress to the House of Hades.

“Make me,” I said.

Augustus shook his head sadly.

“I tried to warn you,” resonated loudly inside of my skull.

Kharon bowed to me, like he was saying goodbye. “I love you.” He turned to Augustus. “Handle this. Like we agreed.”

What is he talking about—

Augustus’s eyes glowed as he held my gaze—Kharon dropped to the sand behind him, boneless.

I cried out.

“He’s just unconscious,” the voice said as Augustus took another step closer, scarlet streaking down his face.

“You’re … inside my head,” I said with dawning horror.

“My powers changed because of our bond.” Augustus’s voice was inside my skull. “I can now … push my thoughts into others.”

I heaved.

“Now, wife, end this. Stab me with your weapon.”

I shook my head. “But … but … Kharon’s scars. He doesn’t deserve any more.”

Augustus looked down at me calmly.

“He was never going to let himself win.” His eyes were pools of crimson-filled darkness. “Not against you—you know that.”

“No.” I stepped back, tripping over a dead lion, stumbling away from it, I used my staff to catch myself.

He followed.

“No. No. No,” I repeated as I kept backing away.

Augustus stalked after me, chasing me across the sand with shackles on his hands.

Step after step.

A predator and his favorite prey.

His voice lingered inside my head like an intrusive caress.

There were no winners here.

I slammed back into stone—I glanced around desperately—Augustus had cornered me.

We were at the very edge of the arena.

Zeus’s podium hovered high above us. He stood at the edge, peering down into Hell, watching us.

Nyx slithered off the rod onto my shoulders.

There was nowhere else to run.

Augustus loomed before me, his face stoic.

“Alexis Hert,” he commanded inside my mind. “You will stab me right now.”

“I can’t.” I shook my head desperately, needing him to understand. “My blood … it could kill you.”

He pressed his lips together into a flat line.

“You won’t. You had your chance, and you didn’t.”

“But I could!”

“But you won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you love me, and I love you—stab me. Now.”