I was never speaking again.
A muse pushing a cart full of books stopped to give me an odd look, but then she averted her gaze and disappeared.
No one was going to help me.
Not here.
Not in Sparta.
I gripped the lopsided tattoo on my forearm and whimpered. I missed Charlie so freaking much that it hurt to breathe.
It hurt to live.
Gasps turned into manic laughter, then brutal sobs racked through my chest as I clawed at my wrists, tears dripping red. My ears and nose leaked. A high-pitched ringing burned unmercifully.
There was nothing left of me to ruin, neither body nor mind.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled, and two voices whispered, but I didn’t bother to look up.
I knew nothing was there.
It was all in my head.
I’d lost control.
Of everything.
Chapter 18
The Symposium
Alexis
I dragged my feet over the rolling hills, a wraith of a woman, more dead than alive. Nyx was coiled asleep around my waist.
As a group, we headed toward the spires of the Dolomites Coliseum.
Lights glowed in three of the top arches—the symposium had already started.
The full moon cast strange shadows, and I shivered miserably at the biting autumn breeze.
Augustus (Satan) led at the front—he’d changed out of his toga, into a perfectly tailored black suit with ruby cuff links—and the seven of us followed him.
Titus, Leo, and Alessander whispered excitedly. Even stoic Cassius had a bounce to his step.
I hung back, shuffling wearily, as far away from Augustus as possible.
Blood trickled out of my nose, and I wiped it away furiously. Drex looked back at me with a concerned expression, and I waved him off with a forced smile.
As we trudged through the dark landscape, the hairs on the back of my neck prickled like I was being watched.
I rubbed at my wrists, left ear ringing.
I’m losing my mind.
By the time we crossed the fields and reached the coliseum, I was numb.
Vision blurring, I trudged up the ancient spiral staircase toward the top floor.
