Page 191 of Bonds of Hercules
In the unexpected crush of bodies, I got separated from Augustus and Kharon.
Turning, I stood on my tiptoes and looked over heads as I searched.
I bumped into something hard.
Hands steadied me and a familiar voice said, “Alexis, I was hoping to see you.”
I stared into the eyes of a tall, skinny boy with flame-red hair—we were the same height—the goat of the House of Dionysus was embroidered on the pocket of his guard uniform.
Oh goody.Not.
Titus, the bully who made my life hell during the crucible, was standing in my personal space, touching me.
“If he does anything, I’m biting him,” Nyx hissed into my ear as she tightened around my neck like she was getting ready to lunge.
“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll handle him.”
Titus shifted awkwardly, his eyes squinting with confusion at what was probably a jumble of sibilant sounds coming from my mouth, but he kept his hands resting on my shoulders.
Instead of stepping back, he leaned closer. “I wanted to get a chance to talk to you!” he shouted over the rock music and buzzing sound of conversation. “I wanted to—”
“Get your hands off m-me!” I yelled back. “Now.”
Titus dropped them, but he didn’t step back.
We were still standing close together, the crowd of people streaming into the symposium swirling around us.
“I wanted to apologize!” Titus shouted louder, offering a sheepish smile. “I was wrong to target you and …” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, now that I’m a guard. It’s …”
He kept talking, but his voice faded away as I stopped listening. I didn’t care what he had to say.
I stared at his moving lips, searching my brain for empathy or some deep-seated urge to forgive him. I sank into myself, looking for goodness, for the ability to forgive and heal. Thiswas the perfect opportunity to be the bigger, more mature person.
I stood on my tiptoes, so he had to look up at me.
“Don’t t-talk to me.” I smiled coldly. “Everagain.”
I’d found nothing inside—just rage.
Titus’s jaw clamped shut, his eyes narrowing, anger sparking in them.
“I’mtryingto be better,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry for what I did. You were never really an abandoned mutt and … I’m really sorry and I would really appreciate it if you accepted my apology and—”
I made a mocking sad face back at him. “Apology not accepted.”
So, this is about my newfound heritage. Asshole.
“No.” Titus shook his head with agitation, his neck turning a splotchy scarlet as his chest bumped against mine. “You don’t understand … I’m beingsincere. I’ve been working with a therapist. I feel like it’s—”
I laughed harshly. “Try a shovel, it’s cheaper.”
He frowned with confusion. Someone had clearly never heard of the good old whack to the head.
He continued. “Anyway, I feel—”
“It’s not my job to care about your feelings.”
Titus bared his teeth. “Stop interrupting me. It’s—”
