Page 87 of Bonds of Hercules
The dark circles around my eyes were almost black, stained with streaks that matched the scar slashed across my face; stubble covered my lower jaw, and purple veins protruded from my neck.
What the fuck is happening to me?
The sink cracked beneath my fingers.
Shaking my head, as if I could jostle the madness away, I tried to smile to soften my features. It came out as a snarl.
Stalking back over to the bed, I stopped pretending to be something I wasn’t.
I slapped Kharon across the face. “You need to shower—wake up,” I ordered. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself.”
Kharon moaned, “Oh fuck off.” But he stretched his arms and cracked his neck, eyes still closed, like he was readying himself.
Turning away from him, I shook Alexis’s shoulder as gently as possible. “Can you stand, sweetheart?” I whispered into her ear.
Eyelashes fluttered open, but her gaze was glossy and distant, then she closed her eyes with a sigh.
“I need to take off your wet clothes,” I said. “Just to get you warm and prevent infection—I won’t look. I promise.”
For some reason, I felt the need to add the last part. Nudity was as natural to Spartans as wearing clothes, but Alexis always rushed to change in the locker room.
I didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable.
“Is that okay?” I asked, stomach sinking at the thought of causing her any more angst.
Eyelids fluttered, and she rolled to her side. “It’s … fine,” she whispered sleepily.
I pulled off her soaking bloody rags as efficiently as possible, swearing as dried blood tugged on open wounds.
Some guns and knives clattered to the floor, much fewer than what she’d started with.
I lifted her in my arms, her heart resting against mine as I carried her into the shower. Her skin was frigid and she vibrated with shivers.
Luckily, the bathroom was made specifically with wounded Spartans in mind, because the fully stocked marble shower was double the size of a usual one, with a built-in bench for sitting, and nozzles that sprayed water from the ceiling and sides.
Still clothed, I gingerly sat down on the bench, trying desperately not to jostle Alexis.
In the steamy dark, she groaned and flinched under the hot spray.
“Shhh, don’t fret,” I said, voice cracking. “I got you … You’re safe now.”
Repositioning her so she was seated on my thighs, I reached for soap and a washcloth.
Alexis was a tall woman, but I was still a much larger man. She weighed next to nothing compared to Kharon (I’d carried him and cleaned him after a Titan battle more times than he’d ever admit) and it was easy to position her.
As gently as possible, I scrubbed off the dirt and blood that covered her like a second skin, so thick the rain hadn’t been able to clean it away.
Even in the dark, I could see that the water ran black as I scrubbed.
“You’re so strong,” I praised, whispering into her hair as I cleaned every inch of her body.
I kept muttering, desperate to put her at ease.
“You’re so brave … You’re the strongest Chthonic I’ve ever seen … You’re so powerful … You’re so intelligent, a math prodigy … I’ve never seen a more impressive warrior … You’re so resilient … so good … You’re going to change the world.”
I meant every word.
Once the water ran clear, I turned to her messy mane of curls. Dumping shampoo into my hand, I gently leaned her forward, holding her with one arm around her midsection as my other hand lathered her hair.
