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“But,” he said slowly, “you did beat those boys to a bloody pulp. I’m almost . . . proud, carissima. But don’t you dare fucking do it again. Remember—I’ll be watching you.”
Please don’t be proud. Please don’t watch me. Actually, never look at me ever again. Also please don’t call me “dearest” in Latin. Thanks.
“Look at me,” he ordered, smooth voice deepening into a snarl. My head snapped up. Soulless black eyes narrowed threateningly and held my gaze. The scar across his cheek was an angry shade of red. I struggled to breathe under his intense scrutiny. The scent of ozone and electricity filled the air, sharp enough to sting but warm enough to be slightly intoxicating. He smelled like a lightning storm.
“I need to take you back to the academy. He’ll know what to do.” Kharon’s words were raspier than usual, and his eyes crinkled with distress. “Can I—” He reached for me slowly “Can I touch you? Just so we can leap.”
“Tip your head back—Alexis,” he said. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“Good job, my carus,” he said as I took a big gulp.
“Alexis!” Patro knelt before me, blocking my view of the commotion. “Stop it—let him go!” he yelled at me. Achilles was beside him with a furious expression. What is he talking about? Theros let out a skull-breaking scream. “Focus on breathing slowly,” Patro said, reading the confusion on my face. “Imagine the pain in your chest dissipating—just focus on each breath.” He inhaled deeply to demonstrate.
I followed his motions. Slowly, the stabbing pain in my sternum lessened. The awful pressure released. Theros stopped howling. He moaned weakly as he slowly sat up, still twitching in the sand. “Great job, you’re doing it,” Patro said as he rubbed my back. “Just like that, good girl. I’m so proud of you.” I leaned into his touch. “She—she—she was . . .” Theros stammered as he crawled away from me. Foam still dripped out the side of his mouth.
