“I’m not leaving,” I whispered to Augustus, eyes still focused on my new friend.I won’t let him boss me around. I need to speak up and stand up for myself.
She smiled at me encouragingly.
Brutal hands grabbed my waist and threw me into the air.
I screamed and blinked in shock as Augustus’s shoulder slammed into my stomach.
He’d thrown me over his shoulder.
He was carrying me toward the door.
“Stop him!” Lena screamed, but Spartans held her back as she tried to run after us.
The rest of the booth stood beside her with angry expressions, holding the bloodstained knives threateningly.
A few feet away, Patro arched his brow at Augustus like he was surprised by his actions, but he leaned against Achilles and didn’t intervene.
The rest of the Spartans fell over themselves to get out of Augustus’s way. Everyone respected him and thought he was fair.
No one was going to help me.
Lifting my head, I gave Lena a watery smile. “I’ll be fine,” I mouthed, not wanting to scare my new friends with the dark reality of my life.
But the sirens must not have believed me, because shouts echoed, and a shoving match broke out.
I panicked for my new friends. Pain spiked through my already pounding chest, bright and hot.
Am I dying?
Augustus slammed open the door to leave the symposium—the last thing I saw was a Spartan shoving a siren and her falling to the ground screaming, foam bubbling at the corner of her mouth.
“We need to help her!” I said to Augustus as I waited for him to put me down, banging at his back. Panic intensified.
“Someone else will assist her,” he growled. “There are the best Olympian doctors in the world inside there.”
He’s right.
The white-hot pain in my chest slowly dissipated, and I stopped struggling, but he still didn’t release me.
Just stalked down the steps, then across the fields silently.
It took me a second to realize the blob on his leg was Poco. The racoon was wrapped around his calf, staring up at me with a curious expression.
Augustus carried us both like it was nothing, his steps large and powerful.
His right arm pressed against my legs, and his hand gripped my right thigh.
My head spun faster.
Nothing felt real.
Calluses scraped against skin as his grip tightened—he probably got them fighting Titans.
I shivered.
My skin tingled.
His breathing was loud and ragged in the night, and his chest heaved with every step. But he didn’t seem tired—he seemed unrestrained, like he was trying to get control over himself.
