Chapter Twenty-Seven

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Chapter Twenty-Seven

"You're pretty self-sacrificing for a piece of shit you just created." Julius sneered in my ear as I was pressed hard against the cold steel desk of my new prison cell. One of the guest rooms upstairs, but it was made awful with the soldiers Julius had ordered to punish me for not making a hundred artificials at once. It didn't matter what I did, I was still fucked.

Literally.

I said nothing to Julius's comment about Nikias. I'd seen a couple of the guards eyeing him after I'd gotten him a decent pair of clothing from one of the closets upstairs and, of course, had to rampage to Julius about it, and this was the solution they'd come up with. Throwing me to the dogs while Nikias ate his dinner in the kitchen just three doors down.

But he had a point. Why was I so intent on protecting Nikias? The only connection we had was DNA. I'd only known him for less than twenty-four hours. It made sense to protect my other sons, because I'd known them since they were small, for centuries upon centuries. And yet, I couldn't shake that damned parental need to keep him safe. I knew what it was like to be pinned down against your will, knowing you were powerful, but not enough to stop these sick bastards. Just because I'd become a bitter bastard didn't mean Nikias had to.

I should've let Julius kill him, though. Thinking that made me feel guilty and I loathed that gnawing emotion at my gut. But wouldn't death be a much more appealing result than what we were forced to endure here?

Sooner or later, Rhea was going to find out about Nikias and she was going to force him to join her army and fight, whether he was a teenager or not. I'd been forced to battle at his age, and I had hated it at the time. The bloodshed, fragile lives being taken away so swiftly, family blood soaking my boots and sword. It made my skin crawl.

But that was back when family had meant something.

Now, family was nothing. At least, that's what I tried to convince myself, but I suppose there was still a modicum of familial ties left considering how stupid I was to give a shit about my sons.

"Enough," Julius commanded his men, "I believe he's learned his lesson." The soldiers stepped back and I slipped right off the desk onto the floor, breathing hard as agony spread through every fiber of my being. The pain was so intense that I honestly debated just killing myself to rupture the balance, but I didn't. Just laid on the floor, bleeding and struggling to pick myself up onto my elbows at the very least. Julius's men chuckled and zipped up their pants, making their way out and bragging about how they'd fucked the almighty Hades. I curled my lip, peering up through my hair at Julius, who stood over me with his arms folded over his chest, eyes narrowed down at me.

"Don't make me do this to you again, Hades. Next time, we won't be charitable enough to send the boy from the room as we do it," He warned venomously, then reached down and grabbed my jaw, forcing me to meet his eyes, "Create the artificials and no one will get hurt."

Liar, I wanted to spit in his face. But I withheld it as Julius roughly released me and stepped over me, heading to the door and slamming it shut behind him.

I took a deep breath and dragged myself to my feet. I stumbled and caught myself on the desk, my breathing ragged as I made my way to the bathroom to shower quickly before Nikias arrived at the room. Nikias didn't know the extent of their punishment, and he didn't need to know. To him, unfortunately, I was his super cool dad. I couldn't wait until his brothers destroyed that image of me in his eyes. I was too used to being the bad guy to dare be thought of as a good guy.

I stood in the shower, seething in rage as I clenched my fists against the wall in front of me. The hot water soothed the aches in my muscles, but burned the fresh cuts I was no longer allowed to heal.

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