5
PRISONERS OF WAR
ALEXIS
Smoke rose as we leapt into a gilded high-ceilinged atrium.
Location: Lake Como.
Goose bumps exploded across my arms.
We were back in the villa where I’d gotten married. Where they devoured me sexually, and I liked it. Perversion really crept up on a person.
The altar was gone, but the grand staircase, dramatic windows, and ceiling fresco were the same.
Kharon stalked toward me across the waxed marble floor, hellhounds prowling at his feet. He was stopped by a servant, a tall man in a dark cloak who looked more like a warrior than a housekeeper.
Where’s Augustus?
I looked around in confusion.
Patro and Achilles were both staring at me—one with haughty smugness, the other danger.
I’d chosen them because they were the lesser of two evils, but from the way Achilles’s eyes were narrowed, I wasn’t so sure that was true.
Chest tightening with dread, I shuffled closer to Drex.
Crack.
Augustus appeared a few feet away, smoke rising around him.
I gasped.
A boy stood beside him.
They were of similar height, but where Augustus was powerfully built, the boy was skinny and lean, his shoulders hunched inward like he was trying to
hide.
Charlie.
“For you, my carus,” Augustus said as he held my gaze. “Persephone has agreed that he can join Helen in tutoring—she said he’s turning eighteen on April 1st, barely a year’s difference—it will be good for both of them to have a classmate until they’re nineteen.”
Charlie shook his head at me. The movement was barely a twitch and no one else saw. Persephone had lied; he would turn nineteen in a few weeks.
I opened my mouth to respond, but no sound came out.
Augustus’s expression softened. “Get a good night’s sleep—your training begins tomorrow. We only have a week to prepare for Titans.”
Augustus addressed a servant with a fierce scowl. “Raise the perimeter defenses.”
There was a whirling groan—the atrium vibrated, amphoras and bronze statues rattled—outside the grand windows an electric fence slowly rose from the earth.
“It’s to keep the enemy out,” Augustus said coldly.
The Titans or Medusa?
“The Olympians.”
Drex choked.
Augustus turned and walked away, back ramrod straight, shoulders tensed.
He snapped at Achilles and Patro, something about weapons and a board
meeting.
A bad feeling settled into my gut.
Screw Sparta and its convoluted politics.
Blond hair blurred in my blind spot—Charlie slammed against me—he smelled like clean soap and the forest at dawn. Home. My still-aching bones creaked under his strength, but I squeezed him back fiercely.
Long moments passed as we held each other.
Someone tapped my shoulder.
I turned, arm still wrapped around Charlie.
Helen looked up at me, shy and uncertain. “Would you two mind … sleeping in my room with me?” she whispered as she twisted her hands. “Just for safety.”
This was not the sixteen-year-old girl who’d talked a mile a minute.
Heart breaking for what she’d been through, what we’d survived, I nodded.
When we got up to her bedroom, we all turned.
“What?” Drex asked sheepishly. “I’m not sleeping in a room with any of those psychopaths. I’m also not sleeping alone in this place—it’s probably haunted.” He paused. “Is that okay?”
Thus commenced my first official sleepover.
Moonlight filtered through ancient stained glass windows, a wire fence between us and the shimmering Lake Como.
The landscape was silvery and cold.
Inside was a different story.
Pink silk sheets were draped across a four-poster bed covered in crystal- encrusted chiffon. Wigs, dresses, and pearls were strewn across the floor.
Makeup was also scattered over every surface.
Amongst the frills, a life-sized poster covered the wall—Erebus wore his signature mask and held a smoking gun.
“Kill or be killed” was written across the top in gothic letters, dripping
blood.
I like Helen’s style.
A dangerous-looking servant pushed inside a rolling table covered in a
dozen silver plates.
He pulled off the lids.
Ten minutes later, Charlie and I had finished half of the food. We clutched our stomachs, still eating. In contrast, Helen and Drex picked at their plates,
gaping at us with wide eyes.
They didn’t understand.
A lifetime of starvation left claw marks on your soul.
That night, stomach sickly full, thoughts racing, body bruised, I fell into a
fitful sleep.
Nightmares devoured.
Gasping, I sat up in bed—the room was quiet—everyone else was still resting.
I need to go back to Crete and check on her. My thoughts were jumbled.
Wiping sweat away with trembling fingers, I sighed.
I was wearing one of Helen’s purple nightgowns, body aching like I’d been hit by a Spartan car. The bruises were fading thanks to the Olympians’ healing paste, but my bones were still brittle and stiff.
Helen snored softly in the bed beside me, wearing a pink sparkly bonnet, and a loaded Spartan gun peeked out from beneath her pillow.
An arsenal of weapons was also mounted on the bow-covered headboard, every gun bedazzled with pink gems.
A loud snore echoed up from the pile of cushions on the floor.
Charlie was sprawled next to Fluffy Jr., whose four long legs were sticking straight in the air. Every few seconds, he paddled his paws like he was swimming.
On the other end of the floor, closer to the door and opposite of the bed to Charlie, Drex was asleep on purple cushions with his golden toucan protector —that he’d ingeniously named Toucey—tucked under his arm.
Tingles skittered across my fingers, and claustrophobia crushed my lungs.
Picking up a snoring Nyx, I wrapped her around my neck like a scarf and quietly slipped out of the luxurious bed.
As I stood up, everything throbbed, and my knee buckled painfully. It took a few moments of trial and error to figure out how to move.
With a gasp of relief, I finally stumbled into the cooler air of the corridor.
I paused, listening.
What was that sound?
Marble gleamed and columns lined the walls with bronze sculptures displayed between them—naked warriors in various battle poses.
Crystals clattered, refracting candlelight, as chandeliers swayed.
It was eerie.
Helen had said the entire villa was off the electric grid, something about tinted windows and limiting light exposure for privacy. The new fence with neon-green searchlights seemed to moot that point.
A shriek echoed.
The calm shattered.
“Did you hear that?” I whispered down to Nyx.
Scales tightened around my neck. “Shut up and go to sleep,” she mumbled tiredly.
This can’t be happening again. It’s probably all in your imagination and not rea— Marble vibrated beneath my bare toes as a woman screamed.
Thirst forgotten, I followed the sound.
Countless turns later, a heavy unmarked metal door sat in the shadows of a
hall.
A dead end.
Footsteps echoed behind me—I whirled around, heart pounding.
No one was there.
Holding my breath, I crept forward and pressed my ear against the metal door.
Chains rattled. A woman screamed in pain.
Déjà vu hit me.
Grabbing the handle, I pulled with all my might—the hinges groaned—I huffed as I wedged the door open and slipped inside.
It slammed shut behind me.
Old copper and mildew filled my nose as I crept down dark, narrow stairs into a dungeon. A sliver of moonlight crawled through a narrow window and
illuminated the dank space.
I stopped.
A tall woman lifted her head from the wall and stopped screaming—dark eyes filled with emotions as she glared at me.
My lips parted on a silent gasp.
Fresh blood dripped from her eyes, ears, and mouth—Augustus was torturing her.
Her dirt-encrusted hair was pink, the color unmistakable. I’d seen the same shade at the top of The Falcon Chronicles.
Ceres.
I was standing in front of the muse who’d betrayed me to Theros. The one who’d recently disappeared. The report said there was little concrete evidence, but the circumstantial proof was damning. She was a longtime spy for the House of Zeus.
My husbands had been the ones who’d kidnapped her.
Chains clattered in the far corner as another prisoner groaned in agony.
“Uh—kid,” Nyx hissed. “What are you doing?”
I took a shaky step back.
“Help me,” Ceres demanded with a growl. She grunted, chains clanking as
she pulled at them frantically. “Help!”
Hades’s advice drifted through my mind.
Ceres tipped her head back and screamed with frustration, the sound of a
broken woman.
“Did you … help Theros kill all those children?” I asked softly.
Ceres went still, eyes widening.
“Did you assist Theros?” I repeated. “Yes or no?”
I stood outside the entrance to the dungeon, in the villa’s ornate hall, blocking
Ceres from Augustus and Kharon’s view.
We’d barely made it out of the dungeon.
Helen stood beside me in her nightgown with her hands on her hips.
The gilded hall was dark with shadowy candlelight. Decorative marble statues glared down at me.
I was covered in sweat, heart pounding painfully.
I’d decided to free Ceres from the dungeon without anyone knowing.
The releasing part went smoothly, the secrecy part not so much.
Helen had heard me slip out of bed and had followed me. She’d confronted me in the dungeon.
When I’d finally convinced Helen not to tell anyone—just when we’d crept out of the darkness into the hall—Kharon and Augustus had appeared.
Apparently, I’d set off one of the villa’s alarm systems.
Now Augustus scowled down at a pager device for the tenth time. “It says the security perimeter was breached and that two Spartans leapt into the villa.”
I opened my mouth—my voice cracked, throat closing over with fear. No words emerged.
“It’s wrong,” Helen stated calmly beside me. “I told you, no one left. I followed Alexis out of bed, and then she freed Ceres. That’s all that happened.”
Kharon made a choking sound, eyes narrowed with fury like he didn’t know what the truth was. His hellhounds stood at his feet.
Poco was perched on Augustus’s shoulder, his fluffy arms crossed
indignantly.
Make them believe you.
I gathered every ounce of courage I possessed.
“There’s no concrete evidence against Ceres and she s-swears she wasn’t involved,” I said. “I’m v-vouching for her. She’s innocent.”
Augustus slashed his hand through the air. “I was finding evidence by interrogating her … That’s the entire Kronos damned point! It’s not safe for
you and Helen to be around her.”
I held myself still.
“I agree with Alexis.” Helen raised both her hands in a placating gesture at the men. “No evidence has been found, and you both already interrogated her … You didn’t find anything, right?”
Kharon covered his mouth like he was stopping himself from saying something he’d regret. He’d been doing that a lot lately.
Long, tense seconds stretched.
Augustus bared his teeth. “Then why … is there blood on your face?” His eyes narrowed as he stared at me.
I touched my cheek, heart racing with fear that I’d been caught.
Ceres whimpered behind me.
Think, Alexis.
Shaking my head, I yanked up the sleeve of my nightgown.
Augustus and Kharon stilled as I revealed the deep marks I’d itched into
myself in my sleep.
“Nightmares,” I blurted.
Augustus closed his eyes and tensed like he was struggling to regain control.
“Why are you having nightmares?” Kharon asked accusingly.
I arched my brow at him.
He had the decency to blush.
Augustus cleared his throat. “Where … would Ceres even stay?”
“Next to me,” Helen answered immediately, just as we’d hastily planned.
“She can stay in the room that’s connected to mine. There’s plenty of space.”
“That’s not safe,” Augustus said through gritted teeth, veins protruding from his forehead.
Poco climbed up to the top of his head and carefully separated three
strands of his hair.
Wait, can the raccoon braid?
Helen tipped her chin back and leveled her brother with a glare, emerald eyes on fire. In the shadowy night, she looked like a mini Aphrodite.
“You can have your soldiers watch her,” Helen snapped. “You know, the ones that pretend to be servants … but follow me around.”
Augustus didn’t bother to deny it.
Well, that explained why they stalked around the villa looking like they’d rather snap a neck than do housework (relatable).
Kharon took a deep, steadying breath.
“The girls can look after themselves,” he said through gritted teeth. “We
should … let them decide what to do.”
All of us gaped at him.
Wow, he really is trying.
A blush stained the top of Kharon’s cheeks as he looked over at Augustus.
Long minutes stretched.
We all waited as Augustus worked his jaw back and forth.
“Don’t make me regret this,” he finally said, raking his hands through his hair in agitation. “Alexis, your training begins at eight o’clock sharp. Be
ready.”
Wait—our plan actually worked?
This was completely unexpected.
Helen ran over to Augustus and threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you so much for being so understanding—I promise you won’t regret it.”
Augustus hugged her back tightly. “You better stay safe,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder at me. “You both better. Don’t make me regret
this.”
Poco joined the hug.
Then he chittered and proudly held up a section of Augustus’s hair so
everyone could see his work.
Never mind, he can’t braid.
It was a giant knot.
Augustus shook his head with exasperation as he felt the rat’s nest on the top of his head.
“What’s going on here?” Patro’s cruel voice echoed from around the
corner.
My blood froze.
We were so close.
Helen pulled away from Augustus.
Achilles stalked behind Patro with another smoking cigarette hanging from his muzzle.
“Nothing.” Kharon glared at them, his eyes sharpening. “Leave—you’re
not welcome.”
Poco hissed.
Patro didn’t react to him, instead he focused on me. “Alexis, why do you have blood on your face?”
Achilles’s gaze snapped to me.
I opened my mouth to speak, and once again, no words came out.
“She’s fine,” Augustus said sharply.
“Bullshit, what the fuck is going on here?” Patro looked at Kharon and Augustus with distrust. “Why are you two cornering her? Alexis—do you need our help? Are they hurting you?”
Kharon unholstered a gun. “I would never hurt my wife.”
Patro’s expression turned cruel. “But … you already have?”
Kharon clicked off the safety.
“Stop it!” Augustus bit out.
“What the fuck is on the side of your head?” Patro asked Augustus.
Poco hissed and grabbed his creation protectively (knotted wad of hair).
“Poco is none of your concern.” Kharon’s voice was icy. “Stay away from him.”
Patro scoffed at them. “What are you two going to do to me? Please
share.”
Kharon raised his gun.
Achilles yanked Patro back behind him, smoke billowing around his face.
The scent of violence filled the hall.
“P-please,” I said.
Kharon lowered his gun with a heavy sigh, and Augustus rubbed his face.
Patro stiffened as he focused on the space behind me.
“Wait—is that the bitch that was working with Theros?” Patro pushed past Achilles. “Why the fuck is that scum not in the dungeon? Why is she standing behind Alexis … What is going on here?”
Ceres whimpered and curled in on herself. “I didn’t help him,” she whispered. “I know it—even if I can’t remember everything.”
I straightened to my full height, shielding her with my body.
Nyx smacked her lips together as she snored around my waist. Helpful.
“I’ve freed Ceres,” I explained.
Patro looked over at Kharon and Augustus with incredulity. “And you two are okay with this?” Achilles glowered beside him.
Hot rage scorched my chest.
“It … doesn’t matter what they think,” I whispered. “She’s innocent.” And suffering from trauma-induced memory loss.
Patro laughed cruelly. “Well, if you’re so sure, then let me touch her and see if she’s telling the truth.”
Ceres flinched back.
“Good idea,” Augustus said.
“No w-way,” I said. “She’s traumatized.”
Patro moved toward me and Ceres with predatory slowness.
I stepped forward, blocking his path.
The temperature between us plummeted, ice wafting off him as he halted before me.
We were almost eye level, and in the moonlight, his handsome features looked like they were carved from marble.
“Careful, Alex,” he whispered. “You’re playing a dangerous game.” He flicked my nose before I could react, angry eyes glinting.
“Don’t c-call me that,” I said as Augustus shouted, “Get away from her!”
Kharon lunged for Patro. “Don’t you ever fucking touch her again.”
Achilles moved in front of Kharon, stopping him. They stood chest to chest, bristling, snarling at each other like animals—Augustus shoved himself between them and tried to force them apart.
Patro didn’t seem to notice the commotion. He just kept staring at me, his eyes searching my face for answers—the scent of frost intensified—Poppae crouched, jaguar tail swishing back and forth with agitation.
It felt like I was back at Corfu.
Patro was mocking me again, hindering me.
“What are you d-doing?” I asked, the sound barely audible. “You don’t even like me. Just leave me alone—let me make my own choices.”
Patro smiled, and the effect was so breathtaking that it was deeply disturbing. “Are you … sure about that?” he asked softly.
He stepped closer into my personal space, our faces inches apart.
Goose bumps pebbled my arms.
“You chose us as your partners, Alex.” Patro’s voice deepened. “So let me and Achilles help you.”
“I don’t like that n-name,” I whispered.
Dark memories played. Alex, you stupid fucking bitch, I told you to stay outside where you belonged.
“Isn’t that too bad,” Patro said, ice wafting off him. “We can’t all get what we want … and when we do, we don’t always like it.” Emerald eyes flashed.
“Yet here we are—Alex.”
The temperature between us plummeted.
My heart raced. Why does it feel like we’re talking about something else?
“Step aside and let me interrogate Ceres,” Patro said coldly.
I lifted my chin. “No.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. “Alex,” he said warningly.
“No,” I repeated. “She’s suffering from m-memory loss, her mind is broken—just leave her alone, please. She needs to heal.”
“You think you would have learned by now not to fight me.” He ran his
tongue over his white teeth.
“Same,” I said.
A few feet away, Kharon shouted something derogatory at Achilles, and Augustus struggled to separate them.
Patro’s chest bumped against mine, the icy sensation spreading as he arched a dark brow mockingly. He’s such a dramatic bastard. I planted two hands on his shoulders and shoved him back with everything I had.
Patro chuckled, unmoving.
“Careful, mentee,” Patro whispered.
I dropped my hands and took a step back, fingertips frozen.
“Let Patro question Ceres!” Helen shouted.
Patro stepped out of my personal space, and I gasped. I hadn’t realized I’d been holding my breath.
Everyone turned to Helen. What is she doing?
I backed further away from Patro.
“But—” Helen said slowly. “You can only ask her if she assisted Theros.
Nothing else.”
Patro stared at Helen for a long moment.
“Fine,” Patro said.
“Only that q-question,” I said. “Please. Promise?”
Patro tipped his head back, muttering a prayer to Kronos. When his eyes
met mine, they were blazing.
“I promise, Alex.”
Eye twitching at the nickname, I stepped aside.
Patro rolled his eyes as Ceres cowered, but he asked, “May I touch you?”
Ceres nodded quickly.
With surprising gentleness, Patro bent down to her level, placing his hand on her dirty shoulder.
The whites of his eyes filled with crimson. “Have you assisted Theros in any way?”
Ceres opened and shut her mouth, lips trembling, as she wheezed like she
couldn’t breathe.
Tears streamed down her dirt-streaked face.
Patro frowned. “Answer the question.”
“No,” Ceres croaked, the sound unnaturally scratchy; her vocal cords were ruined.
She turned her face away like she was trying to crawl into the marble wall and disappear.
For a long moment, Patro said nothing as he towered over her emaciated form—he dropped her arm and stepped away.
“She’s not lying,” he said reluctantly.
Helen and I sighed with relief.
Patro’s eyes sharpened as he glared at me. “It doesn’t mean she’s innocent —some people are experts at deception. Maybe she hasn’t assisted him.
Maybe she was the leader of the entire operation? You can never tell—I want to question her. Extensively.”
I stepped back in front of her. “You promised.”
Patro clenched his fists. “Alex,” he said, his jaw working like he wanted to
say something else.
I held his gaze. “Leave.”
Patro backed away from me and turned to Achilles, signing rapidly, “That bastard almost killed her, and this bitch probably helped—we can’t let them
free her. It’s not safe.”
I swallowed down the urge to argue.
Can’t you see she’s suffering? She’s not a threat, you heartless bastard.
When the men had forcibly taken me and Charlie from Montana, back to Sparta, we’d agreed to hide that we knew sign language from the others so we could collect information. It felt safer that way.
It was getting harder to hide that we could communicate, but I was glad for our subterfuge, because it meant I could understand moments like this.
Achilles looked back and forth between me and Patro. “You promised her,” he signed slowly. “If you want her to trust us, you can’t change your mind.”
Patro swore viciously. He rubbed at the back of his neck.
Wait, why do they suddenly care what I think?
“You questioned her. Can we all go to bed?” Helen whined. “I’m tired.”
Augustus’s face immediately twisted with concern. “This is settled for now. We can discuss it at dinner tomorrow. Everyone, go back to bed!”
Wow, she’s good.
Patro turned slowly and stared at me, his eyes piercing.
I squirmed.
There was something different about the way he was looking at me,
something unsettling.
Achilles glanced between us, tensing.
Is he angry?
Patro grabbed Achilles’s arm. “You’re all trusting fools—something is suspicious about her … I can feel it.” He muttered something about Ceres being shorter than he remembered.
I swallowed a retort as they stalked away down the hall.
“Tomorrow morning,” Augustus said, voice sharp with danger. “Be ready —Alexis.”
He once again said my name like it was a threat.
Kharon’s frigid eyes sharpened. “Good night, wife.”
Helen and I flanked Ceres, holding her on either side and shielding her from the men with our bodies as we escorted her down the hall.
Augustus and Kharon didn’t move as we passed; they both just watched.
By the time we made it to the bedroom next to Helen’s—which shared a connecting door with hers—I was trying not to throw up from anxiety.
“Just rest for now,” I whispered to Ceres as she tentatively crawled into the grand four-poster bed. “Shower in the morning. You need to heal.”
Her panicked eyes met mine as she settled under the covers, quivering, covered in dirt and blood.
“I remember recent events,” Ceres said shakily. “But the years before that, my childhood, it’s all a blur. I need to remember where I came from. I need to know who I am … I need … I need …” She trailed off with a strangled
gasp.
Her trauma was tangible.
“I can bring you Spartan books,” Helen offered. “About our history, your history. It will help you … regain what you’ve lost.”
For the first time, Ceres relaxed, her guard lowering. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I like to read—it should help … I can’t thank you both enough— what you’ve done is …” Her voice cracked as she trailed off, staring at me with tear-filled eyes.
“Of course,” I said, even though apprehension twisted my stomach. I’d felt the fear and acted anyway.
So had Helen.
Eventually, the consequences would come for us. Until then, we’d bring Ceres whatever books she needed until she got her memory back.
Helen and I turned to leave.
“Wait! I recall … one thing,” Ceres blurted.
We turned back to her.
Her lavender eyes were wide and haunted. “Zeus.”
Talons of fear scraped down my spine. “What … about him?” I asked as a high-pitched ringing started in my left ear.
Ceres looked dejected. “I can’t remember.”
Helen and I backed away into her bedroom and closed the door. We crawled into her pink bed and turned onto our sides, facing away from each
other.
Fraught silence stretched.
“You don’t want to mess with Zeus.”
It took me a second to process Helen’s quiet voice.
“There’s a reason,” she said, “that the Great War was so fatal for Olympians and Chthonics. Have you ever wondered why no one talks about it?”
I dug my nails into the “C+A” tattooed on my forearm.
Everything about Sparta was convoluted.
“Three words,” Helen whispered.
I squinted, confused what— “Mutually assured destruction.”
Paralysis stiffened my limbs. Rigor mortis.
Helen fell asleep first, whimpering and kicking under the covers. When I finally joined her, I dreamed of a cloaked grim reaper watching me.
“Be careful, darling,” Death whispered darkly into my ear, twirling one of
my curls.
It’s just a nightmare.
A mouth brushed softly against my forehead, lips warm and disturbingly real. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
The grim reaper stared down at me.
All night, he didn’t move.
Death stood hunched over my side of the bed, staring without blinking, hovering inches from my face, his breath hot against my cheek.
Watching.
Mutually assured destruction played on a loop inside my head.
