Apollo
I had hoped the fire in my chest would die down by the time I reached the holding cells. It hadn’t. If anything, it had grown hotter—stoked by every step I took further from Charlie’s side.
I still saw her face in my mind. Pale. Weak. Wrapped in sheets with her arm bruised and blackened from venom. My dragon snarled, pacing just beneath my skin.
When I reached the cells, I found Adria pacing like a caged animal. Her bare feet slapped angrily against the stone floor. She was soaked again—no doubt she'd dunked herself in the water bucket in some pitiful display of her heritage. The silk of her dress clung to her curves, but the usual shimmer in her eyes had dulled with rage.
She spun toward me, a fake smile stretched too wide across her face.
“Apollo,” she purred, trying to sound
