“Please,” he repeated. “You wereneverviolent. You were always a good, God-fearing kid. Father John loved you. You always wanted to help people. You don’t want to harm me. You don’t want to—”
I dug my nails into my hand, blood pooling.
The Rod of Asclepius formed in my hand.
Foster Father gasped with awe as it glowed brightly. “You were always such a gentle soul,” he said. “So pious. So good.”
“Haven’t you heard?” I asked softly.
He smiled at me like we were old friends. “Heard … what?”
I turned the staff.
Brightness filled the space between us.
I shoved the sharp edge into his sternum—the light went out.
The dungeon was dark.
“It was me.Ikilled her,” I said coldly. “I murdered your wife on that winter’s day.”
He screamed, foam dripping from his lips, eyes widening with abject terror.
I yanked the rod from his chest and dropped it.
Blood sizzled in a steaming puddle.
He choked and twitched; chains clinked as he struggled, his face contorting with betrayal.
I turned my back to him, because he was no threat to me.
Kharon slung his arm around my shoulders, and Augustus draped his arm around us both.
We walked away.
Foster Father gasped loudly. “Alex … you’ll … regret … this.”
“No,” I said, not looking back. “I really won’t.”
52
THE LOVER
PATRO: ONEDAYLATER
“Is something going on in there?” Augustus shouted from the hall as he knocked. “What’s that noise?”
Shit.
Achilles wrenched the door open, blocking the empty room with his body.
“We’re fucking,” I said as I joined him. “Sorry—we got a littlecarriedaway.”
Together, we didn’t let them see inside.
Poco sat perched on top of Alexis’s head, gnawing on her curls, and her oversized protector was prancing down the hall with the potted end of a decorative olive tree sticking out of its mouth (I had no words). Augustus and Kharon were draped around her, their arms strewn across her shoulders possessively.
I scoffed.They’re so whipped, it’s embarrassing.I would never be so obsessed with a woman.
