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Nyx and I sighed (me with relief, her with an uncomfortable sexual undertone).
How to Take a Beating 101: stay still and minimize damage. Don’t complain. Don’t flinch. Don’t react. Suffer in silence.
Classic men, making everything about themselves.
Maximum whispered in a loud voice (he literally couldn’t speak quietly if held at gunpoint).
Power was a dangerous game—but we were dangerous men. We knew exactly how to get what we wanted. We knew what it took—audentes fortuna iuvat. Fortune favors the bold.
This is officially worse than high school. At this point, I’d sell both of my kidneys on the black market for a chance to hug Charlie and have Jessica tell me I smelled.
The male mind was fascinating (horrifying).
“What the fuck are you looking at?” Titus sneered with pale blue lips. I blinked slowly. “A w-waste of oxygen.” Wow—did I actually say that out loud? Holy crap. I’m amazing. I wish Carl Gauss was here to see me shine.
The only thing I’m flirting with is cardiac arrest.
Apparently he had a personal vendetta against me living a good life. People really need to focus on themselves. Ever heard of self-improvement?
Luckily my eyes were already closed (I was going into a coma).
I waited (eagerly) for him to strangle me to death.
“What was that?” Drex whispered under his breath, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between me and Augustus. That was a rabid raccoon and a foiled assassination attempt.
Reality was unraveling at the seams.
Staring at the floor, I focused on not becoming a mindless zombie, which was surprisingly hard these days.
It was just me, myself, and my insightful thoughts. I have a feeling the earth is actually flat. It was hard being so wise all the time.
Apparently I wasn’t good enough to befriend or to eat. It shouldn’t have hurt so badly, but it did.
I debated crossing the menagerie and begging the monstrous creature to end me. Lord knows the cheetah’s too cowardly to do it. But it was a long walk. Would it kill the beast to be a little more conveniently located?
Fluffy Jr. used my momentary distraction to run up and grab the half-digested stick back out of my hand. I stared at him. He stuck it back down his throat. Apparently, everyone is struggling with their mental health these days. Who am I to judge?
Alessander crawled past on his hands and knees, with blue lips and eyes bloodshot from sleep deprivation. We nodded at each other. Real recognized real.
A person purposefully set the Titan free. I’m being hunted. After the momentary shock passed, I felt—absolutely nothing. Yep, it was official. I was too exhausted to care.
Life was meaningless. Death wasn’t scary because... I wasn’t alive.
With unfeeling lips, I walked Drex through equations. Every few seconds, he glanced at me with a worried expression, like he was concerned for my well-being. Who’s going to tell him that ship sailed nineteen years ago?
Why are Spartan men like this? God forbid anyone try to live a somewhat good life these days.
Being Spartan meant we’d survive when humans would go into shock, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. It just meant we could suffer more. Lucky me.
“Nyx?” I asked, remembering I had a snake bestie. Ever almost abandon a friend? Same.
I’d almost survived, but the problem was, I hadn’t even been alive to begin with.
“Your teeth chattering is obnoxious,” Titus whispered behind me. “Do you now see why women should never do the crucible? You’re too weak.” Since I’m still alive (against my will) and a bunch of dudes are dead, that makes zero sense.
Drex and I both rolled our eyes (our eyelids barely twitched, but we understood what we meant).
Here’s a crazy idea—if they wanted people to live, they shouldn’t have held a massacre to begin with. Just saying.
If they made us run the crucible right now, I would perish from hypothermia (throwing myself off the top of the mountain).
I ran (hobbled forward with more intensity), and Fluffy Jr. sprinted past me.
He was a famous full-blooded Chthonic heir, and I was an abandoned Olympian mutt. He was ancient royalty. I was nothing.
If there was any justice left in the world, he’d get gangrene.
Hey, God, it’s me again. Please help.
Pieces of Maximum were sitting on top of wadded-up black tissue paper. Something glinted beneath the gory parts. He’s dead. And for some reason, it’s because of me.
She looked at me with wide emerald eyes, like I was her savior and not a deeply troubled, slightly older teen with psychological, physical, and abandonment issues.
The free the nips (and lips) campaign was a mindset, not necessarily a reality.
“Cunt—absolute cunt, served.” Excuse me? What did she just call me? Youth culture was upsetting.
His hand rested possessively on my shoulder, and my stomach pinched with queasiness. A long beat passed, and I realized what was so strange about the gesture. Patro’s touch wasn’t unpleasant.
I pulled away from him, disturbed that I wasn’t disturbed by his casual display of affection.
As far as I could tell, Spartans had no ability to comprehend what it was like to be at the bottom of the food chain. Dirty, in the woods, under a tarp. Charlie is still there waiting for me. I wouldn’t let this place make me forget.
“Think about the House honor.” Wrestling, I laughed harshly. “I don’t care about your stupid House honor—I grew up homeless, you prick.”
“What I’ve endured for years—would kill you in a day.”
She held me like she loved me. No one had ever done that before.
“It’s going to be okay, honey. I’ll make sure of it.” Tears filled my eyes because no one had ever said that to me before, and it had never been less true.
The devil wasn’t a lone figure—he was two men, and both were standing across from me, splattered in gore.
I wanted to fight. To kill. To die on a battlefield. Chop me into little pieces. Put me into a coma. I dare you. PLEASE DO IT, YOU FILTHY LIARS.
Poisonous blood dripped from my ruined hands, the hands of a killer.
I was what they’d made me into. And they hated it.
