Blood of Hercules (Villains of Lore Book 1)
Blood of Hercules: Chapter 33

Alexis

We were alone.

Long tension-filled moments passed as the three of us stared at one another, not moving, not speaking, just breathing heavily.

The anticipation was a live wire.

My skin prickled from the weight of their stares.

“May I—” Kharon rasped, breaking the spell. He reached forward and cupped my face. “—kiss the bride?” His thumb stroked slowly against my jawline.

My head was under icy water, heart in my throat. Two new cords pulsed faintly inside my sternum.

All the lines had blurred.

I swallowed thickly.

The damage is already done. There’s nothing left to lose. It’s just a stupid kiss.

I nodded jerkily.

Kharon’s smirk was sinful as he stepped closer.

Crack. The heir of Artemis, the son of Erebus, the Hunter, fell to his knees in front of the altar.

I stared down at his bowed form.

Augustus stepped closer; in one swift movement, he grabbed my hips, and lifted me so I was seated on top of the altar—Kharon’s face was level with the juncture of my thighs.

A sacrificial bride.

Augustus’s fingers lingered where he grabbed me.

“May I kiss the bride?” Kharon said again, slowly lifting the hem of my toga and exposing my legs. Fingers dragged across sensitive skin.

“What?” I whispered as my vision warped.

Everything was out of focus.

Kharon arched a dark brow, his sharp cheekbones glinting as he challenged me with his eyes.

Kharon wet his lips.

Leaning forward, breath hot against my exposed thigh, he pushed up the last inch of my silk toga over my hips.

The material bunched at my waist.

His intention was obvious.

Queasiness burned deep in my stomach and the room spun.

Butterflies fluttered.

Kharon leaned forward. His breath was hot against the thin fabric that covered my core. “May I kiss the bride?” he repeated with a rasp.

Oh my god.

The butterflies spasmed.

He looked up at me, brow arched mockingly. There was laughter in his eyes, like he didn’t think I’d agree.

This was all a game to them—they were playing with me.

You’re already dead.

I sank deeper into the murky water, into the consequences.

Look what you did to all those people.

I needed a distraction; I needed to forget that I was a serial killer.

“Yes,” I breathed out on dry lips, before I lost my nerve.

His pupils expanded, eyes widening with surprise.

Black nails grabbed my thighs and wrenched them open, hard enough to bruise.

Kharon’s expression was feral.

He leaned forward, pulled silk to the side with his teeth, and dragged his tongue wantonly through my core.

My eyes rolled back.

I gasped with pleasure.

Augustus stepped into my personal space, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck, fingernails digging into the front of my throat.

He squeezed, holding me still.

“Shhh,” he whispered in my ear as his callused thumb pressed into my lips and forced my jaw open.

Then Augustus’s open mouth hovered over mine. “This is your punishment, my carus,” he said. “I told you . . . You have one hour—only then will you be allowed to come.”

Wait, didn’t he say something similar months ago?

Warning bells went off in my head, but I couldn’t concentrate on them.

Kharon sucked on my clit—stars exploded as he slowly pressed his finger inside me.

The infamous hunter, the son of Artemis, pulled his head back from between my thighs, finger still buried deep, and slowly licked his lips.

“Dulce periculum,” Kharon said with a wicked smirk, mouth glistening. “Carissima.” His breath was hot as he lapped at me softly.

“Danger is sweet,” Augustus said, then he slammed his tongue deep into my throat, like he was trying to devour me with his kiss.

Kharon pushed his finger even deeper and blew on my clit—I screamed into Augustus’s mouth.

Both men groaned.

The butterflies were on fire.

Kharon tortured me with his tongue and fingers, bringing me to the brink of ecstasy but pulling away at the last moment.

It was hell.

Augustus pulled down my toga. He lapped and sucked at my nipples as Kharon flicked his tongue against my clit.

Everything tingled, and I forgot how to breathe. How to think. How to care.

This is heaven.

They traded places—Augustus fell to his knees in front of the altar and lifted my butt with both his hands—then he licked me, ass to core, like he owned my flesh.

Kharon bit down around my nipple.

I screamed.

The men devoured me.

Time got hazy.

Panting, struggling to see or hear, covered in sweat, I grabbed at their hair and begged. Pleaded for mercy as I writhed beneath them. Words and noises tumbled from my lips.

I was nothing but theirs.

“Fuck.” Kharon’s raspy voice broke through the pleasurable fog. “We lost track—it’s been an hour. What do you want to do?”

The men pulled away, and I whimpered with desperation.

Cool air burned overstimulated flesh.

“You get between her legs,” Augustus ordered, and once again Kharon fell to his knees before me, his breath tingling across my heat.

But this time, glacial blue eyes filled with blood.

“I’ll hold her,” Augustus said as he gripped the back of my neck, pulling my limp torso against his chest. My raw nipples rubbed against his toga, and I whimpered louder.

Black eyes stared into mine.

“Alexis—I need you to look at me, my carus. You did such a good job,” Augustus praised. “Your punishment is over.”

I blinked in confusion.

Kharon licked my clit—foreign sensations coursed through my body, lighting every nerve on fire.

It was my pleasure, but more.

Smug male satisfaction mixed with ecstasy.

Holy crap. I’m feeling mine and his pleasure at the same time.

Waves of rapture built higher, and I tipped my head forward, screaming.

I doubled over from the ripples—Augustus yanked my neck back so I wouldn’t fall. Bloodred eyes held my shuttering gaze.

Pressure tingled behind my eyes.

Instinctively, I tried to yank away, but he held me still.

His voice pounded inside my skull. “Feel ecstasy,” he commanded. Just like that, pure rapture exploded inside my mind.

I screamed with pleasure.

Time didn’t exist.

As I panted and shook, my vision slowly refocused.

The men were still fully clothed.

My toga was bunched up at my waist, and I was leaning forward, slumped against Augustus. My chin was on his shoulder.

“Such a good carus,” Augustus praised as he rubbed circles on my back.

Kharon was resting his head against my thigh, tracing his fingers over my calf.

Either I was hallucinating, or two ferocious-looking skeleton dogs were sleeping in the middle of the aisle.

I tried to speak, but my throat was hoarse.

After a couple of attempts, I whispered, “What are those skeleton dogs?”

Kharon’s teeth grazed across my inner thigh as he nipped at me. Augustus kissed the side of my neck and kept drawing circles.

“Those,” Kharon said as he kissed my leg, “are my two protectors. They’re hellhounds.”

His neck tattoo. That was what I couldn’t remember. Furia was slang for hellhound.

“But why have I never seen them before?” My voice was raspy from screaming.

The world had a dreamlike quality.

Nothing felt real.

“They’re invisible to Spartans,” Kharon said. “It’s a gift from my creature heritage—I can see them.” He kissed my thigh.

Persephone is part creature. Is that why I can understand animals when others can’t?

I drowned in my thoughts.

Kharon continued, “And since I’m using my Spartan power right now—which lets whoever I’m touching see and feel what I do—you can now also see my hellhounds.”

“Oh,” I mumbled articulately.

Head swimming, I tried to process everything.

Kharon’s pleasure had combined with mine into unimaginable ecstasy.

Is that why I felt strange pleasure whenever he touched me in Corfu? Was I feeling what he felt all this time?

Oh god.

“No wonder you’re such a hit at the symposium,” I whispered as I laid against Augustus, who played with the ends of my hair.

Both men stilled.

“I wouldn’t bring up your—performance at the symposium,” Augustus growled. “After you’ve just been punished for it.”

I grunted in annoyance, too boneless to do anything else.

Kharon bit my thigh, hard enough to leave marks, then lapped at it.

“That’s why my nickname is Sex,” he rasped.

I startled.

It really is Sex.

I whispered shakily. “So does the W stand⁠—”

“War,” Augustus cut me off, kissing my temple softly. “I’m War—because of what I can do to people’s minds.”

Shivers exploded down my spine.

One hellhound woke up, dagger-sharp canines flashing as it yawned, a shadowy tongue stretching. Ice blue flames burned where its eyes should be.

It turned and whispered something to the other dog. It was too far to hear.

It sounds exactly like the whispers I’ve been constantly hearing.

The urge to scream hit me.

“They can speak,” I said on numb lips.

“No,” Kharon said. “They just make strange grunting sounds.”

No.

They’re speaking a language.

An icy sensation washed down my spine like someone had dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.

“Did you have th-them—” I struggled to calm my racing heart. “—following me?”

His nails bit into my ankles. “Maybe,” Kharon said with feigned casualness.

He was a terrible liar.

My neck was prickling constantly. I heard them everywhere for months.

The voices weren’t in my head—they were real. Kharon had been stalking me.

Nightmares of glowing red eyes, pressure on my foot, a strange obsession, skeletal creatures, and whispers had plagued me every time I slept.

In the dreams, the devil had warned me he was going to take care of me.

Oh my god, was Kharon touching me while I slept, and I could feel his obsession with me and see his hellhounds? Sometimes there were two men—was that them?

Was it all real?

As I hyperventilated, my eyes widened. “Did you w-watch me sleep at Corfu?”

Kharon’s fingers stilled where they were trailing over my skin.

“Maybe,” he said.

I wanted to die.

He’s been stalking me.

Every. Single. Night.

I gasped for air. “Did you both—ever . . . watch me?”

Kharon gently kissed the sensitive flesh of my inner thigh. “Maybe,” he rasped again.

It was more horrible than I could have ever imagined.

They were actually villains.

“I need to leave,” I said shakily as I struggled to calm down. A panic attack burned inside my sternum.

Augustus picked me up into his arms. “Shhh. Relax, my carus. This villa is our home.” He cradled me against his chest. “It’s now your home as well—you will never spend the night in a cardboard box, ever again. We’re going to take care of you.”

I fought to get out of Augustus’s hold, but steel muscles flexed. His grip was painful as he pinned me to his chest.

The panic attack got ten times worse.

Why won’t he let me go?

The edges of my vision got fuzzy, heart hammering, fear choking me.

“Breathe slowly, please,” Augustus begged. “You’re hurting yourself.”

“Let me go,” I gasped, voice far away as the world collapsed around me.

Augustus’s arms flexed, holding me in place.

“Never,” they replied in unison.

It was too much.

All of it.

The room spun unmercifully, and my vision faded—this time, I didn’t fight to stay awake—I let the darkness pull me under.

I passed out.