Chapter 42 The Hunter #2
I peeled open swollen, crusted eyes and looked around. In the middle of the night, I’d once again pulled Alexis across me like a blanket.
Her heartbeat pounded against my chest.
“Where’s Augustus?” Alexis shifted as she rolled off me, and I fought the urge to grab her and pull her back.
Wait, why didn’t he wake us up?
A muffled voice bellowed, “Three minutes!”
Swearing, Alexis and I dressed quickly.
As the guards led us through the stone labyrinth, I clutched the back of Alexis’s neck, stroking her necklace to soothe myself.
When we were led out into the stands, bright sun blinded me.
The air was warm. The scent of grass, fresh flowers, and earth filled my nose.
Alexis didn’t move away like she had the last few days. We sat together behind Drex, Charlie, and Helen.
The youngsters recoiled as they saw my face. My bruises must look gruesome.
I gave them a sheepish smile. It was hard to be upset.
Tender emotions washed over me as I inhaled the scent of clean soap, soaking up Alexis’s presence. She was holding my hand, touching me, choosing me—she loved me.
Nothing else mattered.
The crowd clapped with excitement as Augustus walked onto the sands holding a sword and wearing no armor. In contrast, Poco stood on his shoulder, fluffy gray belly protruding, his teeth bared, wearing a silver chest plate and matching Spartan helmet—he was in full battle regalia.
Static crackled as Zeus announced Augustus had two rounds and six labors.
The stadium hollered with excitement.
Augustus tensed, both hands gripping his sword, a strange expression on his face.
He looked … cold.
The gate opened—sweat dripped down my spine, memories of Typhons playing—Alexis squeezed my hand, and I focused on her touch.
ROARRRRRR.
Four Minotaurs charged out, already fully shifted into beasts with monstrous snouts, curling horns, and thick hooved legs.
They charged with axes held high in their powerful arms.
Gasps echoed.
It was an extremely aggressive first round, and labors usually didn’t repeat. Achilles had already faced Minotaurs. This didn’t make any sense.
The leaders must have agreed with my assessment, because all of them stood up.
Hades bellowed something at Zeus, but I couldn’t hear what, because Alexis’s thumb was slowly stroking the top of my hand.
Augustus didn’t move; he just stared at the beasts.
Chthonic blood filled his eyes—droplets spilled over like tears.
“KNEEL.” His voice, warped and deep, not his own, exploded through the stadium.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
All four Minotaurs fell to the sand, their hairy bodies limp.
Beastly eyes glazed over.
The crowd got to its feet, unable to believe what they were seeing. Everyone leaned forward, jockeying to get a better view.
Augustus took a step toward them. “DIE!” His voice was unforgiving.
Pop—Minotaur eyeballs exploded from their skulls. Brains poured out of their oversized ears.
There was a moment of dead silence, then the stadium erupted. “BEHOLD THE HEIR … BEHOLD THE HEIR … BEHOLD THE HEIR!” Sparta screamed wildly, losing their minds at the display of sheer power.
Zeus scowled. “Second round!” Sparks fell from his lips, his lion growling at his side.
The gate lifted.
More of them?
Two monstrous Minotaurs appeared in the dark—taller than the others, they towered above the sands, both the size of a Cyclops—they were fully shifted.
The axes gripped in their hands were larger than Augustus’s body.
Hooves touched onto sand as they stepped forward and—
Augustus gently covered Poco’s eyes.
THUD.
Both Minotaurs lay dead.
The crowd gasped again with shock, but this time, they fell silent and stayed that way.
What is he doing?
Augustus always held back the strength of his true power. If the Olympians knew how strong he was, it would put a target on his back.
They would try to constrain him, just like they did Achilles.
He’d just risked everything.
Zeus glared down at Augustus from his podium.
The Chthonic leaders clapped respectfully, but their faces were pinched—he’d revealed his hand—he was supposed to be the diplomat.
From the nervous murmuring in the coliseum, no one in Sparta would think of him that way again.
Poco let out a mighty screech, the noise echoing as he banged his tiny black hands against his chest plate.
Augustus smiled at his antics.
They made quite the sight—a monster and his dressed-up raccoon.
Augustus stopped and turned to our section of the stands. He shielded his bloody eyes from the sun and put a hand on his heart.
“What … is he doing?” Alexis asked.
I swallowed thickly, fingers curling around hers.
“This was—” I struggled around the lump in my throat “—all for you.”
“What?”
“Augustus … revealed the full extent of his power—to keep you safe. He ended it quickly so the Minotaurs couldn’t hurt him, nor you … It was all so you wouldn’t feel his pain.”
Alexis looked around the stadium. “But now they’re afraid of him.” Her voice was small, unsure.
I brought her hand up to my beating, blistered heart.
“He doesn’t care about them,” I said. “You’re all that matters to us.”
Gratitude for him swelling, I nodded down at Augustus.
Alexis’s fingers trembled in my grip.
Soon … it would be her turn to fight.
Lifting her hand up to my mouth, I softly kissed each of her knuckles.
She was going to be okay.
She has to be.
If not, we were going to war.