Page 1 of Bonds of Hercules
1
THE SURVIVOR
ALEXIS: MAY, CRETE. 2100
“Were the human casualties avoidable?” Persephone asked softly as Hades stepped through the front door, his boots drenched in crimson blood.
Hades laughed and kissed her forehead. “The mission was a success.”
Weeks later, their interaction still haunted me.
Titan blood was black.
He’d never answered her question.
Now I slowly backed away from the sprawling House of Hades palace.
The ancient marble structure was perched atop a hill on the island of Crete, and the Aegean Sea spread out in every direction. On the western horizon, the sun set with burnt-orange rays.
Insects droned.
“Please, sweetheart, youdon’thave to do this,” Persephone whispered. Charlie stood solemnly beside her. Hydra, the dragon protector perched on her shoulder, let out a mournful cry mixed with fire.
The flames were bright in the dusk.
Persephone’s frown deepened.
A sharp ringing sound echoed, and I tilted my head to see her better.
Only Charlie knew my secret—my left eye was blind, and my left ear was permanently damaged. A violent childhood had bestowed its marks on me.
It forged me into this.
A symphony of dying voices screamed inside my head—I’d slain them all.
Alexis, you’re not an evil person.
My real name was Hercules.
Yes, you are.
I gritted my teeth.
It wasn’t real.
Yes, it is.
It had only taken twenty years for me to lose my mind.
Persephone’s fingers whitened where she clung to Charlie’s arm, their togas whipping in the spring sea breeze.
Shadowy waves crept along the shoreline as the sun disappeared.
Night had arrived.
I pushed back the sleeve of my cloak. Lips pulling up in a false smile, I gently pressed my fingers to the “C+A” tattooed messily across my forearm. Persephone’s recent gift to me, two dainty golden cuffs, covered my scarred wrists. My wedding bracelet clinked against one of them.
Charlie nodded at me solemnly from his lanky height, his yellow eyes soft as he mimicked the gesture.
