Bonds of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #2)(65)
I already have—I’m a hideous fish.
As I stared down at the floor in shock, the full weight of what had just transpired crashed over me.
Strange, dangerous glow aside, I hadn’t killed Kharon or Augustus.
I’d done it.
For the second time in my life, I’d controlled my power.
We were still bonded.
Tears mixed with my chuckles as I leaned back into the chair with exhaustion.
“Wait? I can still feel—” Kharon’s eyes widened.
He tried to stand up but collapsed back onto his knees.
Augustus panted, still splayed on the floor. “Why?” he asked. “It doesn’t make any sense … We gave you an out.”
“We gave you the divorce that you wanted.” Kharon frowned. “But you stopped. Why?”
Rubbing my face tiredly, I looked anywhere but at them.
“Alexis,” Augustus said, his voice tight. “Why?”
“I want to … give us a chance,” I whispered, feeling lightheaded. “It’s just physical now, but … maybe we can be … more … some day?”
A muffled shout echoed, and the table rattled.
Augustus held his side as he sat up, and Kharon shifted at my feet.
The air crackled with tension.
Wait, what is happening?
“Carissima,” Kharon purred, eyes half-lidded and smoldering, as he wiped at his bloody face, revealing smooth unmarred skin. He grabbed on to the table. It creaked against his weight as he hoisted himself to his feet. “I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to hurt you—you deserve better than me.”
I gripped my chair for dear life.
Kharon loomed over me, blocking out the rest of the room as his breath fanned against the shell of my right ear.
“If what we have was just physical,” he said quietly, “I’d lay you out on this table and kiss your lips. Then I’d stroke myself as Augustus did the same.”
My nails dug into the arms of the chair.
Kharon breathed heavily. “And while Augustus was busy with your lips, I’d kiss your mouth.”
I jerked, face heating as I realized what he’d meant.
“Then … Augustus and I would sit down in two chairs across from each other—we’d pass you back and forth, fucking you on our laps, for hours.”
Kharon paused as he smirked down at me. “We’d fuck you until you couldn’t walk, and they couldn’t look you in the eyes without picturing us thrusting deep inside of you.”
I shivered.
Abruptly Kharon pulled back.
He flexed his fingers, then fisted them as he cleared his throat. “That’s what I’d do—if this was just physical. But that’s … not what this is. This is me apologizing.”
He stepped to the side.
Augustus got to his feet and walked toward me with awe like I was his benediction. Crimson dripped from the side of his mouth, the cut on his tongue still bleeding.
He reached for my face, cupping my cheek.
“My carus.” He leaned forward until his warm lips hovered over mine.
The kiss was featherlight; I felt it in my soul.
He pulled away.
I touched my tingling lips.
A gagged bellow echoed, chains clanking. Patro’s emerald eyes were wide and pleading, his expression distraught as he struggled harder, desperate to free himself.
Achilles sat still and watched us.
“We are devoted to you,” Augustus said solemnly.
Kharon rested his hand on my shoulder, as if bestowing a blessing. “There is nothing in the world we wouldn’t do for you, Alexis.”
Their promises hung heavy in the air, depraved in their vehemence.
They meant exactly what they said.
That’s the problem.
23
THE HUNTER
KHARON: THE NIGHT BEFORE THE INITIATION MASSACRE
An agonizing headache throbbed in my skull. I breathed harshly as I focused on Alexis’s sleeping form and not Augustus’s pain.
Moonlight gently kissed her delicate features.
It was quiet in the bedroom. The spring storm had died down hours ago, the rain finally stopping.
Everyone in the villa was sleeping.
Everyone but me.
I rubbed at my mouth where there was no longer a mark—our marriage bond was making us more powerful—I’d never healed so quickly before.
I used to think the bond, the increased Chthonic power, was everything I’d ever wanted.
Now I loathed it.
It was the reason Alexis didn’t trust me, the reason her intriguing eyes became guarded in my presence.
Even amongst Spartans, Alexis was special.
A few hours ago, I’d crawled to her, fully prepared to die so she could be free of me.
But she hadn’t done it.
Instead, Alexis had saved me, her fingers glowing with pure bright light, like she was the sun itself. I’d never seen anything like it.
She was giving us another chance. It was everything I could have ever dreamed of—nervous energy turned my stomach—the pressure was immense.
I couldn’t afford to fuck this up. Not again.
So here I was, standing over her, watching her sleep, holding a black-and-white rose that I’d hand cut from the garden because it reminded me of her eyes.