Page 167 of Bonds of Hercules
I had to keep my more physical nature under wraps.
For now.
Kharon swore under his breath as he punched at his pillow, and Alexis poked faster at her calculator.
She had to survive three rounds and twelve fucking labors; it was Kharon all over again, but somehowworse.
None of us could sleep.
Fluffy Jr. made a pained sound and kicked the bed in his sleep—my head jerked—the steel bed frame slammed against the stone wall. He’d been doing it for hours.
Alexis tensed, focusing on her calculator.
Something was seriously wrong with her protector, but at this point there was nothing we could do to help him. At least he was resting.
Poco chittered as he gnawed on my hair.
On top of the imminent danger that my wife was facing, she’d also been exposed against her will in front of the entirety of Sparta. I hadn’t missed the way the Olympian leaders had stared at her flesh hungrily, and they hadn’t been the only ones.
Catcalls and whistles had echoed around the stadium.
I’d memorized the face of a male siren who’d shouted, “Ride my face, Angelus Romae,” from the front row of the stadium.
He would die by my hand. Soon. Gruesomely.
To calm myself, I made a mental hit list.
Ajax was number one.
He’d dared to touch mywifein front of me.
If Kharon hadn’t snapped his neck, I would have donemuchworse.
I took a deep breath.
We had to play the federation’s game.
The Great War had ended because of a “peace agreement,” but everyone knew it hadn’treallyceased. Olympians and Chthonics were still battling, as we had been since the dawn of Sparta.
The power struggle never ended.
All we had to do was outlast the Olympians. Sparta was a giant game of combat chess—you had to strategize and play the long game, while being shot at.
Poco’s whiskers tickled my cheek.
Alexis cleared her throat. “I did something …” she trailed off in the quiet.
Kharon stopped swearing under his breath.
My heart skipped a beat at how pained she sounded.
I wanted to turn to see her, to hold her, but there was no room on the stupid bed.
It didn’t help that the soft tenor of her voice made blood rush to other parts of my body. Images of her obeying, kneeling, bowing before me, made it hard to breathe. She was so beautifully submissive.
Every second in her presence was torment.
Fluffy Jr. whimpered and the bed once again slammed against the wall.
