Bonds of Hercules - 1

A LEXIS : M AY , C RETE . 2100

“W ere the human casualties avoidable?” Persephone asked softly as Hades stepped through the front door, his boots drenched in crimson blood.

Hades laughed and kissed her forehead. “The mission was a success.”

Weeks later, their interaction still haunted me.

Titan blood was black.

He’d never answered her question.

Now I slowly backed away from the sprawling House of Hades palace.

The ancient marble structure was perched atop a hill on the island of Crete, and the Aegean Sea spread out in every direction. On the western horizon, the sun set with burnt-orange rays.

Insects droned.

“Please, sweetheart, you don’t have to do this,” Persephone whispered. Charlie stood solemnly beside her. Hydra, the dragon protector perched on her shoulder, let out a mournful cry mixed with fire.

The flames were bright in the dusk.

Persephone’s frown deepened.

A sharp ringing sound echoed, and I tilted my head to see her better.

Only Charlie knew my secret—my left eye was blind, and my left ear was permanently damaged. A violent childhood had bestowed its marks on me.

It forged me into this.

A symphony of dying voices screamed inside my head—I’d slain them all.

Alexis, you’re not an evil person.

My real name was Hercules.

Yes, you are.

I gritted my teeth.

It wasn’t real.

Yes, it is.

It had only taken twenty years for me to lose my mind.

Persephone’s fingers whitened where she clung to Charlie’s arm, their togas whipping in the spring sea breeze.

Shadowy waves crept along the shoreline as the sun disappeared.

Night had arrived.

I pushed back the sleeve of my cloak. Lips pulling up in a false smile, I gently pressed my fingers to the “C+A” tattooed messily across my forearm. Persephone’s recent gift to me, two dainty golden cuffs, covered my scarred wrists. My wedding bracelet clinked against one of them.

Charlie nodded at me solemnly from his lanky height, his yellow eyes soft as he mimicked the gesture.

Nyx shifted beneath the loose folds of my exercise toga, her grip tighter than usual around my torso. Fluffy Jr. let out a low whine as he crouched at my feet, our protector bond trembling.

Trepidation prickled the back of my neck.

Every instinct screamed at me to wrap myself around Charlie. In a perfect world I’d never leave his side. In a perfect world I’d be human.

I wasn’t.

This was Sparta.

God, please save my soul.

The flame from the torches lining the palace entrance cast warped shadows across our faces: mother, daughter, and newly adopted son.

It was far too late for my salvation.

“I know exactly what you’re feeling.” Persephone’s voice echoed, her bare toes curling into the short grasses that competed with rocks to decorate the landscape. “Your fear and rage leave a bitter residue in the earth. I can taste your … impulses .”

She was being kind. Holding back from airing the depth of my shame in front of Charlie. But I saw it in the panicked expression on her face.

She could taste my delirium. She knew my murderous blood was boiling me alive and my thoughts were slowly melting with it.

In my mind, Father John was throwing holy water at my face. “You’re possessed,” he whispered, eyes wide with terror. “You’re one of them . An abomination.”

I nodded solemnly in agreement.

“Alexis, snap out of it.” Persephone’s voice vibrated with power.

I startled back into reality.

Father John was somewhere in Montana.

I was hyperventilating on Crete.

The blessed and the cursed, existing beneath the same stars.

“Alexis, please ,” Persephone urged, blond curls rising beneath her gold laurel crown as she used her powers to commune with the land.

Her mother was Demeter, but her father was Iasion, a terrifying dark creature who was rumored to have power over plants—she took after him.

Persephone was gentle and caring, but her powers were petrifying .

Case in point: I was losing my mind, and she could literally feel it happening.

In the last few months living on Crete—avoiding Satan and Evil Incarnate (my husbands) and trying to find a single smidgen of mental health (still searching)—I’d learned that it was a common misconception that the House of Hades owned the island.

Hades didn’t own Crete.

Persephone did.

Their marriage bond had twisted her creature powers into something insidious.

She’d sunk them deep into the rocky soil and claimed the land. She could literally feel every person, animal, and plant that roamed across it. The longer anyone stayed, the more attuned she was to them.

You could never deceive her.

It was why, except for my parents, the island was abandoned.

No one from Sparta visited. Ever.

“You’re so troubled with ugly emotions, daughter … Please don’t let them guide you,” Persephone said slowly, carefully choosing her words. “You can live here safely—your time fighting can be over.”

Her curls rose higher, defying gravity.

“The federation can not force you to participate in the Assembly of Death,” she said, as Hydra let out another roar of orange flame. “They can’t take you from this land.”

Dragon fire illuminated the love in her eyes.

“Live in safety—be better than those who hurt you.”

All I’d ever wanted was a quiet, simple life for Charlie and me. Food, bed, and a roof above our heads. The freedom to spend my days learning and studying.

What she offered was heaven.

But after twenty agonizing years in this world, I’d finally accepted the truth. I wasn’t made for a life of ease—I was destined to make those who hurt me suffer.

Sparta would learn.

I would wield my powers, or I’d die trying. Most likely the latter.

Penance and revenge were separated by a razor-sharp edge, and I was already inching across it.

Persephone’s voice echoed with power. “If you walk this path, Alexis, it will not be easy. The cost to your soul will be great—but I believe in you. You can pay it. You just won’t emerge the same. Remember … our world is not a kind one.”

I pulled the hood of my new cloak over my spiked ruby crown. “Neither was mine.”

I’d already lost everything: my freedom, morality, and humanity .

Suffocating on existential dread, I turned away from Persephone and Charlie, hurrying down the hill before I lost my courage. Fluffy Jr. ran beside me, a blur of misshapen fur.

At the edge of the lawn, Hades was waiting for me. Cerberus sat beside him and all three heads turned to me, tongues flopping, tails wagging with excitement.

Fluffy Jr. jumped on him and they rolled together in the grass, both about the same size.

Hades shook his head at their antics.

Inky fog wrapped around his pale skin and long black toga in insidious coils; new voices from his power joined the chorus.

“She doesn’t understand what it’s like,” Hades said softly, breaking the silence. “Her power isn’t … restless like ours. We were born for battle.”

He reached for me—I stumbled away. He’d never hurt me, but lessons from years of abuse were hard to unlearn. When someone moved quickly toward you, you ducked. Always.

Hades dropped his hand, dark eyes lighting with fury—fog thickened around us and the world plunged into coldness—screams intensified.

He breathed out and his shrieking fog retreated.

Water lapped against rocks as the island sounds returned.

Hades’s lips thinned. “Remember what I’ve taught you these past months—survival in Sparta is all about power and fear. You must learn to embrace and harness your more … complicated feelings. No one fears the sane.”

I nodded, but my head felt like it belonged on someone else’s shoulders.

“There are only two paths forward in life for Spartans like us,” Hades continued softly. “Either we run from what we really are, or we hone it and become … legends.”

His black eyes burned with intensity.

“ We are the ones who shape Sparta,” he said. “Your power is poison—you will excel in the Gladiator Competition.”

I wanted to cry.

Hades spoke vehemently. “You have nothing to fear from the Assembly of Death. You are my daughter. They will come to fear you.”

Hades smiled wistfully. “Both our blood runs in your veins.” He looked back up the hill fondly to where Persephone stood. “You’re our miracle child.”

I tried to smile, but my lips wouldn’t comply.

I don’t want to do this.

Hades straightened the long robe of his toga. “Do you have all your weapons?”

With shaking fingers, I patted the new leather holster that rested on my hips and nodded.

“And do you remember everything I told you about the Assembly of Death’s hunt?” he asked. “It’s just hazing.”

“I think s-so.”

“Perfect.” Hades cracked his neck. “I can’t wait to watch you fight this summer in the coliseum, daughter.”

I have to do this.

I would make my husbands pay for trapping me.

Hades stepped closer. “You and I are two of the most dangerous Spartans on earth. But danger is nothing without power—and power doesn’t exist without fear … Make them fear you, daughter.” His voice dropped an octave, like he was letting me in on a treacherous secret. “What have I taught you? Repeat it to me. One last time before we leap.”

He stared down at me expectantly.

“No one fears the sane,” I said on numb lips.

You’re already there, and no one is afraid except you.

“Don’t forget it,” Hades said as he extended his hand and pointedly looked down at his outstretched arm.

I laid my trembling hand atop his, and tendrils of his vicious power wrapped around my forearm, embracing me.

The House of Hades was synonymous with evil, and I was its favorite daughter.

“Domus.” Hades’s voice faded as darkness exploded around us.

Crack.

The landscape changed.

For the second time in my life, I stepped into Hell.

This time, I went willingly.

Smoke rose around my feet as pale moonlight filtered through an ice-covered forest and a frozen breeze whipped our togas. Hades dropped my arm and stepped to the side.

A long jet-black geometric building sat inconspicuously in the shadows of snow-covered trees—the Assembly of Death’s unofficial outpost.

Six Chthonic assassins stood in front of it.

Location: Siberia .

Every hair on my body stood on end.

Two men looked particularly murderous. Their gazes scoured the side of my face with knifelike sharpness.

Three months ago, they’d placed me on an altar. They’d kneeled before me, worshipping my flesh with soft lips and reverent touches.

Now vitriol wafted off them in punishing waves, its intensity more biting than the icy wind. They were wrathful gods pretending to be men.

Run for your life , my inner voice screamed.

But I was done fleeing.

Straightening my spine, I matched their unnaturally stiff postures and pretended I wasn’t intimidated by the Chthonics.

Loaded armpit and thigh holsters stretched across their black T-shirts and cargo pants.

Spartan helmets sat atop their heads.

Ancient warriors dressed as modern killers, ready to induct a new cultist.

I was ready.

No, you’re not.

I ignored the voice of reason; there was no place for it here.

Rural Montana had prepared me for two things: selling my organs on the black market, and cult life. For some reason, dark times were a breeding ground for uncomfortable group participation in dangerous activities.

Nyx slithered under my toga. “It’s so cold, I want to die,” she hissed in an inspirational display of mental toughness.

Hades shifted beside me. Cerberus, stoic and calm, stood at his feet.

In contrast, Fluffy Jr. dug in the snow. Ears perking up, he bit the end of a stick, then gulped it down his throat.

Not now.

Everyone watched as my protector hacked.

Finally, just when I was about to intervene, he regurgitated the half-eaten piece of bark, and looked back at me with his tail wagging.

God gives his toughest battles to his strongest soldiers.

I prayed for death.

A familiar scoff echoed.

I looked over, before I could remember why I shouldn’t.

Dear God.

The Devil had answered my prayer.

Ice-blue eyes met mine, and the temperature in the forest plummeted. Frostbite dug its frozen claws into my sternum.

Kharon’s lips curved up with a predatory promise.

“Furia” flashed, the tattoo stark across the front of his pale throat.

Dried blood was also smeared across his mouth; his nails were painted black; holsters stretched obscenely across powerful thighs and the chiseled lines of a cut torso; ink covered his right arm, shading his skin in an illusion of skeletal bones that mirrored what lay beneath the skin.

Time slowed.

“Honey,” he mouthed slowly, not a sound falling from his crimson stained lips. “I’m home .”

My heart stopped beating.

Complete cardiovascular meltdown.

I’d forgotten what it felt like to meet his gaze; I’d forgotten how my cells froze with abject terror as a deep animalistic instinct screamed at me to get away from him ; I’d forgotten how he’d mockingly called out the greeting each time he’d leapt to Corfu.

Now I remembered.

“Hello, carissima,” Kharon mouthed silently. His posture was hostile, his expression downright disrespectful.

Carnivores like to play with their prey.

The Hunter stood before me, a creature capable of unholy depravity, and he wanted one thing.

Me.

I looked down, turning slightly so he was in my blind spot, faint with panic.

He was searching for a weakness, desperate to exploit me. This was nothing but a power trip for him.

He can never know about my eye and ear.

Two hellhounds crouched at Kharon’s feet, their bones flickering in and out of existence as if they were glitching. Blue flames danced in their eye sockets.

They shouldn’t have been visible.

“Alexis,” a baritone voice said, smooth as silk. “ Look at me.”

I obeyed.

Augustus’s black eyes trailed down my body from head to toe, caressing , checking for injuries.

My name lingered between us in the icy air—three short syllables—yet he’d managed to make it sound like the most depraved of curses. He always did.

Midnight eyes locked on mine—I gasped.

Augustus’s expression was ravenous .

Black and white hair hung loose down his back, the strands blowing around his wide shoulders. The scarlet edge of his scar peeked out beneath his helmet.

Tendons strained in his neck.

Danger , a subconscious voice screamed as my pulse pounded in my ears.

Crimson pooled in the whites of Augustus’s eyes as he activated his Chthonic powers.

He looked enraptured .

Beside him, Kharon slowly licked his lips.

The world faded and there was just the three of us meeting in the snowy woods, the dangerous villains and their reluctant wife. A trifecta of lethal abilities.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Even Lord Acton couldn’t have imagined the depraved power of Chthonics.

A droplet of blood spilled from Augustus’s lashes, streaking down his cheek like a tear and disappearing beneath his Spartan helmet. I’ve never seen a Chthonic do that before.

He’s going to invade my mind and smash it to pieces.

Terror crawled down my spine. He’d torn into my head during the crucible and forced his will upon me. He could do it again.

RUN.

Augustus was a monster.

So are you.

Poco screeched, black hands wrapping around Augustus’s neck as he climbed up onto his shoulder. Raccoon whiskers quivered, black eyes flashing.

Augustus didn’t move. He just stared at me with leaking, bloody eyes.

With tingling fingers, I rubbed at my chest where the new marriage bond strummed, the one that was supposed to make our powers stronger. The same bond that forged Persephone’s terrifying powers.

Augustus and Kharon were two indominable forces. There was nowhere to run from them, nowhere I could hide where they wouldn’t eventually find me, and even Crete wasn’t safe. I knew it in my bones.

Looking around, I focused on anything but the two dark gods bonded to my soul.

Branches clattered in the wind.

My neck prickled because my husbands weren’t the only ones staring.

Achilles and Patro stood beside them, watching me with an intensity that bordered on deranged.

My mentors.

Achilles glared, a cigarette hanging between the grates of his muzzle. Smoke rose around his face, red eyes bright through the hazy tendrils. Hair pulled back tightly with DEATH tattooed across his knuckles, he was a blazing presence in the frigid forest.

Nero, his mammoth shaggy black wolf, sat obediently next to him with a matching scarlet gaze.

Patro smirked haughtily, leaning casually against his lover. Poppae, his sleek jaguar, flicked her tail back and forth, emerald eyes bright.

A strangling pressure squeezed my neck. I touched my throat protectively.

Predators everywhere.

I looked away.

Hermos and Agatha were at the end of the line—two dark creatures with Chthonic blood somewhere in their lineage.

Hermos was an infamous Gorgon. Agatha was an Empusa, a rare type of shape-shifting creature that ate men.

She inspired me.

Crack.

I screamed as something huge leapt into the clearing.

A woman astride a monstrous black horse scoffed at me, crimson droplets sparkling in the air around her.

Artemis.

Ice-blue eyes peered down an aristocratic nose, the air around her full of fear, literally . Her power surrounded her in a mist of glittering red—it was terror incarnate.

The immense horse pranced in place.

A familiar stocky figure in a black exercise toga stood between the trees.

No.

This can’t be.

Drex shrugged sheepishly as his golden toucan flapped its wings with agitation.

“But y-you’re an Olympian,” I sputtered.

The entire point of the Assembly of Death was to oppress and punish Chthonics after they lost the Great War.

Drex stepped closer. “The Olympians exiled me because Theros was my mentor.” His voice cracked. “I had no choice—at least here I can fight Titans … with you.”

Sparta was still reeling over Theros’s betrayal and subsequent disappearance. The Falcon Chronicles reported that Ceres, a muse from the crucible’s library, had helped Theros kidnap me and other House of Zeus heirs. She’d planted the warning notes in my textbooks.

After the article dropped, Ceres had also disappeared without a trace.

“I’ll be fine,” Drex whispered. “Maybe.” He narrowed his eyes. “Hopefully?”

We’re both dead.

“We’re here,” Artemis announced, “because we have two new recruits to welcome—a fellow Chthonic daughter, and the first … idiot … to ever volunteer for induction.”

She bared her teeth, eyes manic, as she cocked a bloodstained bow and raised it to the full moon.

Yep, that’s definitely Kharon’s (Karen’s) mother.

“At the Spartan Gladiator Competition this August, we will showcase our powers and strike fear into the hearts of the Olympians.”

She shot an arrow into the sky.

Please let it hit me.

A squirrel fell from the top branch with a loud thud.

Okay, Arthritis (Artemis) needs to be stopped.

Artemis turned her horse to face us. “Per tradition, in honor of Pheidippides of the House of Ares—you will be hunted by our youngest members, twenty-five miles through the woods.”

Was that blood on her teeth?

“They will give you an entire hour’s head start before they come after you.” Artemis scoffed, like she thought that was too much time. “While you’re in the forest, leaping and fighting back is forbidden . It doesn’t matter how many bullets you take.”

She smiled.

“If you fail to make it out of the woods and are captured, you will be killed.”

Drex whimpered.

Oh nice, Arthritis looks genuinely excited.

Hades shot me a reassuring smile.

He’d explained all this before and said everyone always survived, but Artemis made it sound like our demise was a very real possibility, and she was personally going to make it happen.

“After the woods, you can leap,” Artemis said flippantly, like she didn’t need to explain it because we’d already be dead by then.

“If you’re uncaptured by the first morning light, you’ll be in the Assembly of Death, and can choose who you want to partner with for your first mission. If you’re caught, the two Spartans who capture you will fill that role.”

Kharon bared his teeth and Augustus smirked, his eyes still dripping crimson.

Achilles cracked his neck back and forth, muzzle concealing his expression. Patro winked, looking smug.

Artemis raised her bloody bow.

“RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!”

Drex and I didn’t need to be told twice. We turned and sprinted into the icy woods.