I couldn’t find the energy to nod.
I’d never been a birdgirl.
No, it wasn’t because neighbor Paul (post shovel-to-the-head incident) used to scream from his trailer porch that birds were government surveillance drones.
It was just—no one had proved birdsweren’tspying on us.
Also, why were they always flying around? Where were they going? What were they doing? Why were they always singing? Suspicious.
Morning chirps echoed through the windows, and my eyes widened.They’ve got us surrounded.
Patro scowled like he was waiting for me to say something.
“Yay, b-birds,” I said tentatively. “Go pigeons? They’re definitelynotwatching us and sending information back to the?—”
Patro left the room.
That was weird, Alexis, even for you. Tone it down.
Sighing, I lay down on the deck and read my new book.
Time resumed its leisurely stroll (death march).
Over the next five days, I took copious nutrient pills, and my bones healed. My collarbone and ribs also stopped protruding so severely. I almost looked healthy.
But a new fear ate at my nerves because the crucible—a mental test akin to war—was fast approaching.
Each night, I drowned in nightmares where a raspy voice taunted me.
On the last day before I was supposed to leave, the Crimson Duo once again sat across from me on the terrace.
Green leaves rustled on the surrounding hillside.
The sea sparkled like diamonds.
“You won’t survive the Spartan War Academy without a power,” Patro said in a grave tone. “They will literallykillyou if they think you’re powerless. No questions asked. So don’t tell anyone.”
I gulped.
“My brother, Augustus, is teaching D and P this year,” Patro said with a fond smile. “He’s very even mannered and honorable—but he won’t suffer fools. If you’re powerless... let’s justsay—you don’t want to be. Although he’s usually protective of women because of our sister, Helen. Still, he’ll exploit your weaknesses ruthlessly to make you better.”
I shivered.
Augustus is the thirty-one-year-old eldest Chthonic heir.
Literally everyone in the world knew about the infamous son of Aphrodite and Ares.
There were wild stories circulating about his “sinful handsomeness, disturbed power, and divine rage,” but he was notoriously private, so none of them had ever been confirmed.
The Spartan Lifestyle Page had tried and failed for years to get photos of him, since he was part of the upper crust, the secret royal society of Spartans who cared about honor and purity.
They’re all delusional.
Neighbor Paul (pre-shovel) seemed more grounded than the Spartan heirs.
One thing was for darn sure, Augustus wasnotsomeone I ever wanted to meet. As the son of two heirs, he could have chosen to be the heir to the House of Aphrodite or Ares, but he’d been named the latter.
He’dchosenthe House of War.
