Page 190 of Bonds of Hercules
Patro seemed almost …left out.
My heart pinched as I thought about how everyone in Sparta, including him, had called me an abandoned mutt like it was the worst sort of offense. It must have been hard for him, growing up in a civilization that viewed him as lesser because of his human heritage.
It never failed to surprise me how small Sparta was. It was nothing like the human world, in so many ways.
Case in point, the gate lifted and five Cyclopes charged out.
Aphrodite sprinted toward them, her muscles rippling as she raised the oversized ax above her head.
The crowd “oohed” with anticipation.
Aphrodite leapt through the air and swung her ax with impressive Spartan strength.
Blood exploded.
She landed in a crouch, beside a decapitated Cyclops head—drenched head to toe in red.
The cheers stopped.
Before the other beasts could react, she leapt at them quicker than my eye could track, wielding her ax like an extension of herself.
Chunks of Cyclopes esophagus sprayed.
Aphrodite didn’t use her powers, just sheer brute force.
After long minutes of aggressive hacking, the sand was a mess of severed body parts. Aphrodite let out a war cry of satisfaction as she kicked a head, the size of a boulder, and it rolled across the sand.
There was nothing left to kill.
No one cheered.
Her sphinx sat at the edge of the arena, licking its paw with boredom.
Helen visibly sighed with relief and slumped against Charlie.
Down below, drenched head to toe in blood, Aphrodite rose up to her full, majestic height and smiled, diamond braids sparkling down her back.
She blew a kiss to the silent crowd.
She’d silenced the men.
Hades stood up, and we all followed his lead. Our section clapped and cheered loudly, as the rest of the stadium stared at the sand in shock.
Aphrodite scooped up her sphinx, kissed its head, and disappeared from view.
I smiled. Satisfaction unfurled in my gut.
It was the first fight I’d enjoyed.
Guards arrived at our section, and escorted us to the symposium.
When we stepped through the doors, the harp music had been replaced by electric guitars and a scantily clad male singer. I recognized him as a popular human rock artist. He screeched into a microphone as Spartans jumped on the dance floor.
Well, this is unexpected.
More people streamed into the room than usual. Spartans and creatures of all designations had decided to attend.
The space was already close to capacity.
