Chapter 41 The Eldest Heir
THE ELDEST HEIR
It was a bright summer’s day, the mountain air scented from wildflowers. Poco sat on my shoulder, purring as he gnawed noisily on my crown.
I’d seen the world, but the Dolomites stood apart, surreal in their beauty. Sacred land.
The electric dome hummed as it caught the light.
Black scorch marks across the stone were the only signs that hellfire had been burning a day earlier.
In front of me, Alexis leaned into Charlie as they held hands, knuckles white with fear for their friend.
Kharon traced along the necklace he’d gifted her, tattooed thumb stroking down the back of her neck.
Just looking at my wife made my chest ache—she was too good for us—and yet I knew in my bones, there was nothing that would ever make me leave her side.
Kharon felt the same.
I twirled one of her curls and she shot me a smile over her shoulder.
My black heart cracked.
I was devastatingly obsessed with my wife.
So obsessed that anxiety gnawed sharply at my gut, because at the edge of the stadium, Zeus looked smug with sparks of electricity leaping off his shoulders.
What the fuck type of game is he playing at?
There was no reason he’d actually suspect Achilles and Patro—or any of us for that matter—of helping Medusa.
A smattering of applause filled the stadium as Drex walked out onto the sand holding a broadsword.
He looked terrified.
Alexis stood up and clapped, hollering at the top of her lungs. Helen, Charlie, and Agatha joined her as they cheered for the nervous young man.
“Wahoo,” Kharon drawled sarcastically.
I kicked him.
He didn’t look repentant.
He still hadn’t gotten over his jealousy with their friendship (neither had I).
“One round—two labors!” Zeus announced. His famous lightning scepter was noticeably absent. “For the first Olympian to ever participate.” There was another smattering of confused applause. Sparta didn’t know how to feel.
Drex pulled his shoulders back, sword pointed at the entrance.
The gate lifted.
Two exotic-looking beasts stepped out onto the sand: Chimeras.
The crowd “oohed.”
Chimeras were three-headed beasts—they had the body of a lion, the head of a goat protruding from the middle of their backs, and a tail that ended in a snake’s head. Rare creatures—and they lived in the wilds of North Africa.
Drex visibly trembled as they prowled toward him.
The Olympians were going easy on him.
This should be quick for him.
Chimeras were twice as small as Nemean lions, and while dangerous, they were only a class five beast because of their shorter stature. They breathed out fire, but only in tiny amounts.
He’d be fine.
Both beasts sprinted across the sand toward Drex. They opened their mouths—flames burst from their maws.
Drex turned and sprinted away from them.
What is he doing? I looked at Kharon with confusion.
Alexis screamed as she covered her mouth, shaking from fear.
Kharon rolled his eyes and lazily stood up. “Just … stab them!” he yelled in a bored tone like it was obvious (it was).
Unfortunately, Drex was not the brightest.
Thirty minutes later, the gate opened. “End of the round,” Zeus announced with exasperation.
Two very unstabbed Chimeras were panting with exhaustion as they chased Drex around the sand. I had to give it to the kid, he had stamina.
For the last half hour, he’d managed to run around and avoid both beasts. However, he had zero killing prowess and was a disappointment in every other way that mattered.
Drex zigged left quickly—and one of the beasts tumbled to the right as they tried to follow.
There was a smattering of laughter in the crowd.
Technically, a round ended after thirty minutes and you could leave the arena, but you’d lose.
No uninjured Chthonic had ever chosen that route.
Because we had pride.
And weren’t pathetic.
“RUN—you got this!” Alexis shouted as Drex hauled it toward the open gate.
He definitely does not.
Drex dove out of the stadium, and there was another smatter of applause and laughter. Olympian guards ran out with guns. Pop. Pop. Both Chimeras dropped dead, bullets through their eyes.
The crowd clapped as the bodies were dragged away.
Zeus shook his head and jumped from the platform through the force field, landing in the sand.
Guards escorted Drex back out into the arena.
Zeus walked toward the boy with Vulcan metal in his hand.
People shouted that it wasn’t necessary as boos echoed all around. Apparently, Sparta felt bad for the Olympian mutt; he didn’t deserve to suffer, not like us.
“Two labors lost,” Zeus announced with a sigh.
He waited patiently as the boy pulled open the top of his toga.
Zeus stepped back and pointed the circular metal over his exposed chest—his outstretched arm brightened with sparks, metal turning yellow in his fingers—he placed the brands on his skin in quick succession.
Drex screamed in agony.
The crowd winced in sympathy.
Zeus put his hand on the boy’s shoulder as he whispered something to him with an encouraging smile, like he was trying to make amends.
Drex sneered back at him, his expression openly hostile.
Maybe we’ll make a Chthonic of him after all.
Zeus gestured for Drex to walk forward, then followed behind him out of the stadium.
Everyone stood to leave.
As our section exited, I gave Helen a big hug.
I mouthed silently over her shoulder at Charlie, “You better be sleeping on the floor.”
He nodded vigorously, looking aghast at the insinuation of impropriety.
Relief coursed through me as I reluctantly released Helen.
I would never admit it aloud, but I was grateful she had Charlie; I saw the way he looked after her. He was a good kid.
The way he grew up was criminal.
Alexis leaned into me as I escorted her to the symposium.
They deserved so much better.
Drex arrived a few minutes after us, looking mostly unharmed. Bandages peeked out from beneath his toga. They’d clearly just given him medical treatment, then released him.
“Drex!” Alexis called when she saw him, releasing my arm and running over to him.
The boy smiled when he saw her, and they fell into conversation at the edge of the room.
Kharon started to stalk after her, but I held him back.
“He’s just her friend,” I reminded him (and myself) calmly.
“I fucking hate him.”
“I know.”
That night in bed, the three of us didn’t say anything as Kharon and I held Alexis between us.
The unspoken reality hung in the air.
Tomorrow—it was Kharon’s turn to fight.
SGC DAY 11
It was another bright summer’s day in the coliseum.
Thank you, Kronos.
Zeus couldn’t use his scepter to threaten Kharon during his fight. A small mercy.
I’d slept soundly, clutching Alexis to my chest. Sometime in the middle of the night, I’d wrestled her out of Kharon’s grasp and into mine.
It was the best thing I’d ever done.
Waking up to her sleepy face was like waking up to a brilliant sunset—glorious, warm, perfect.
Even now, her golden curls formed a halo around her face as she leaned close to Charlie in the row before me.
Angelus Romae.
I rubbed at my aching chest.
I wanted my arms around her like I wanted to breathe.
My woman.
The keeper of my soul.
The love I felt for her was greedy—a new sort of madness.
I tried to focus on anything but the fierce emotions gripping me.
Achilles shifted with discomfort a few seats away. The upper half of his face was covered in bruises, the skin distended and turning green.
Patro sat ramrod straight next to him, his severed tendon still wrapped in thick bandages. Achilles had a matching one around his ankle.
They’d both been mutilated.
Complicated feelings churned inside my sternum; they weren’t my favorite people right now, but they were under my charge. Achilles was a fellow victim of the House of Ares—House of Horrors, as we used to call it. They were my responsibility. My half brothers.
Guilt scoured me.
Hermos and Agatha sat further down, also covered in bruises.
I’ve failed all of them.
Drex made a noise in front of me, elbowing Alexis’s side as he tried to get her attention. She kept signing and whispering to Charlie.
Drex nudged her again.
I took a deep breath.
He’d been practically hanging off my wife ever since his round yesterday and was officially getting on my nerves.
Kharon wasn’t the only one with a jealousy problem.
Drex’s elbow touched the side of her arm, and Alexis turned to him with a beaming smile. They laughed together, sharing an inside joke.
Mental note: break his left elbow.
Alexis turned around and shot me a glare, like she could hear my thoughts.
I smiled back.
She frowned. “Stop it,” she said as she looked over at Drex.
“Stop what?” I mouthed with feigned confusion.
Alexis rolled her eyes and turned back around to Drex, her features soft and radiant as she talked animatedly, waving her hands.
I sighed heavily. She clearly enjoyed their friendship and would be upset if something bad were to happen to him.
Mental note: make his shattered elbow look like an accident.
Stone vibrated as the crowd began a chant.
Stomp. Clap.
“Hunter!”
Stomp. Clap.
“Hunter!”
Stomp. Clap.
“Hunter!”
Sunlight glinted off the sand, creating a harsh glare.
Kharon sauntered out in the light, Hell and Hound flanking him on either side.
Gasps echoed and the chant paused, then continued.
Sparta was not used to seeing Kharon’s hellhounds; Olympians had always called him weak, saying he was too feral to have a protector; but he didn’t have just one—he had two, and they were monstrous.
The three of them stalked in tandem, his skeleton tattoos taking on a whole new meaning.
A silver bow flashed where it was slung across his arm. Artemis stiffened in her seat as she realized.
Kharon had chosen her weapon on purpose.
She’d secretly disowned him, called him a disgrace, but the rest of Sparta thought he still represented her House.
Kharon was making a mockery of everything she stood for.
Pride filled me.