Blood of Hercules (Villains of Lore, #1)

by Jasmine Mas

Fides est periculosa ludum—trust is a dangerous game.

The path of existence was nothing but chance, and chance was nothing but a circle of events.

nullum magnum ingenium sine mixture dementia fuit. There has been no great wisdom without an element of madness.

Chthonics had powers that only hurt others, such as torture, mind control, pain.

The infamous Chthonic four—the Houses of Hades, Aphrodite, Artemis, and Ares.

There was a reason I hunted all day and night; if I stopped moving, I felt the agony. I remembered the trauma. However, if I kept myself distracted, then I couldn’t remember. Mostly. Gritting my teeth, I rubbed at my tired eyes. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d slept. The problem was the second I lay down, my subconscious tortured me with the heinous memories. So I stayed awake. I didn’t run from my demons. I fed them, and now I was the demon.

“Sirens are extremely misunderstood, unique creatures,” Augustus said. “They have regenerative abilities, and when a group of sirens was given an intelligence test, they scored higher than Spartans, but because they are a class of creatures who can understand other languages but not speak them—they can only communicate in their own incomprehensible language—they have a relegated role in Spartan society.”

Some moments punched the breath from your lungs and dragged you through the mud, reminding you why life sucked. Other moments stole your air in a glittering swirl and reminded you why life was magical.

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.

“I don’t care about your stupid House honor—I grew up homeless, you prick.” I reared back and slammed my head into his nose. He whimpered as blood exploded. I bared my teeth. “What I’ve endured for years—would kill you in a day.”