Out of respect for his authority (pure fear), I stared at the floor.
Titus sputtered.
General Cleandro held his hand up. “I just want to remind you,” he said softly. “That if anyone has been fighting—for anyreason—you will allrun the circuit until your feet are bloody stumps... then you’ll run it some more.”
Titus’s teeth clicked as he snapped his mouth shut.
“So I’ll ask again,” General Cleandro said. “Whatthe fuck happened here?”
Cassius spoke quickly, “It was just?—”
“Titus,” the general cut him off and pointed at the blood-covered boy. “Titus, will tell me what happened.”
The silence was so charged that if a match was lit, the air would explode.
After an excruciating long pause, Titus whispered, “Alessander fell out of his chair. When he fell, the chair also hit me... and... uh... that’s why we were both on the ground.”
I glanced up.
General Cleandro stared at Titus with an unreadable expression, and Augustus was still glaring at me.
“Be more careful with how you act in the future,” the general said. “The furniture can be—dangerous.”
It didn’t feel like he was talking about a chair.
“What are you all waiting for?” He whirled around and glared. “STUDY AND STOP STANDING AROUND.”
As General Cleandro stalked out of the library, we scrambled into our seats.
Titus’s excuse hadn’t explained my broken nose, Leo’s black eye, the bruise on Drex’s cheek, or how the chair had broken ontopof Alessander, then covered him in vomit.
But he hadn’t punished us.
Augustus lingered in the library with his eyes narrowed.
Help, why is he still looking over here?
Why is he walking toward me?
He stalked over to where I sat and loomed behind me like a dark cloud.
I prayed for spontaneous combustion.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Augustus asked silkily, low enough that only I could hear.
Sadly, I did not explode.
I swallowed thickly. “What are you t-talking about?” I whispered.
He leaned closer, breath tickling the side of my ear, and strange sensations fluttered in my lower stomach.
“Why—the fuck—are you putting yourself in danger?” he asked slowly, his voice vibrating with vehemence. Quietly, in a deathly whisper, he said, “Chthonics areextremelyrare and important. Act like it.”
Oh, it’s because my mentors are Chthonic and he’s worried about them becoming generals.
I waved my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, I’m just defending myself, and I had it all under control. It’s fine.” My tone was confident, but the blood that gushed from my broken nose onto the table ruined the effect.
Augustus made a rough noise in the back of his throat, and he flexed his hands like either he had rheumatoid arthritis or he was trying not to strangle me (both options were extremely concerning).
