The Cursed Greek Heroes Series: Wicked

Chapter 3

Adamus almost fell out of his bed when his phone rang, jerking him awake. Peering at his bedside table, he saw that it was two o'clock in the afternoon and felt for his phone under his pillow.

The caller ID told him that his boss was on the other line. The screen of his phone displayed the sight of the immortal warrior dressed in a purple toga lying sprawled on a dining table, passed out after a drunken night of revelry. Di, a fellow Accursed brother had taken the picture of Hercules and decided to post it around for kicks and giggles.

"Good morning uncle." Adamus kicked his blanket off and sat on his bed.Hercules chuckled humorlessly on the other line. "I think its already noon in the mid west of Europe."

Adamus stretched and rolled out of bed. "So what's up? Did you to call just to catch up with me?"

On the other line, Adamus sense the shift within the few seconds of silence. Hercules was about to deliver some unsavory news. "Yeah. Listen, King Lycaon summoned me the other day. Straight up trying to beam me in the middle of a shower, damn Arcadian."

Adamus kept his silence. It was not that the ancient hero had any problem with nudity. The image of Hercules wet and cursing, descending down in the middle of a werewolf pack, was worthy of a chuckle. But he knows that was not just that.

"What the hell does he want from you?"

"Actually he wants something from you, not me." Hercules replied. "He wants you to provide sanctuary for him and his pack. He wanted to lay low on your land for a while. Apparently he has a few pregnant females and a feuding pack chasing his tail."

Without hesitation, Adamus replied, "Hell no! I don't want to catch rabies."

"It's not like he wanted to shack up and play house with you. He's merely asking for asylum and respite for a while. In the forest."

Adamus cocked his brow "Asking?" He had never remembered the word asking or courtesy have ever existed in the werewolf's vocabulary despite how long the Arcadian have lived.

"Alright. He was demanding, not really asking." Hercules answered.

"And you can tell him to shove his demands up where the sun doesn't shine."

Hercules sighed on the other end. "You know I can't do that. There are innocent lives at stake here."

"What innocent lives? They're uncivilised werewolves – and not the friendly kind, either." Adamus retorted.

"I've told you: they have pregnant females."

Adamus rolled his eyes at the ludicrousness of it all. "Innocent puppies? Is that what you're referring to? Fucking werewolves puppies?"

Hercules cleared his throat. "Yes."

Sarcastic laughter burst out of Adamus's mouth. After he had had his fill, he spoke, "Boss, we're talking about Arcadian lycanthrope cubs here. They're hardly cute bundles of joy and sunshine. I'm pretty sure they're born with murder in their tiny baby brains."

Adamus swore he could hear Hercules's brain ticking. Hercules was leader of the Accursed Brotherhood. He had taken an oath to defend the weak and the innocent. In Herc's way of thinking, even Arcadian's puppies fit the description even if they were born to a vile, human murdering race. Adamus had also taken the same oath, but that does not mean that he had to have the same way of thinking. His pledge is more, bendable.

"And why do they need protection anyways? They have been breeding fine for centuries and we have never provided them any kind of protection before."

"One of the pregnant females was Lycaon's son's mate. A week ago Arkos was killed in a fight with another pack. A handful of his male pack members had been killed in the fights and skirmishes as of late – so that means protection for the pregnant females are minimal right now. I guess Lycaon's scared and since your place is the closest to where he is, he latched onto the only chance of survival he could think of."