A Nereid for the Titan (TITANS, #1)

by Lazu, Sotia

  But his lips didn’t move.

  “Where was I? Ah yes.” Eros looked extra smug, even for him. “Zeus was wrong, both about what could free you and about soulmates, because...” He made a weird jerky motion with both fists and a rolling sound with his tongue. “Drum roll? Nothing? You’re a tough audience.”

  “Finish,” Prometheus barked so loud, a flock of birds behind Eros took flight.

  “All right. So working theory is that the oil drills in the Aegean ended your stasis, and the fact that you zeroed in on Pherusa as soon as you were awake indicates she may be your soulmate.”

  Glee bubbled up inside Pherusa, stealing her breath and threatening to come out in an undignified squeal. If this was true, she could be with Prometheus forever, without giving up Vythos. And with him on their side, Father wouldn’t have to fear Kronos’ awakening.

  Unless Prometheus didn’t want her.

  Prometheus hung his head, staring at the ground, his expression dark. “How can you think that?”

  Her insides tightened. He didn’t even consider the possibility she was his soulmate?

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” His voice rolled down the hill and felt as if it came from everywhere at the same time.

  “Who are you talking to?” Eros tilted his head at Prometheus.

  “Pherusa. I don’t know how she can think I don’t want her, after everything.”

  Eros waggled his eyebrows. “She can think whatever she pleases.”

  Prometheus jumped upright and closed in on the god. “Yeah, well, I don’t like hearing it.”

  Huh?

  Eros appeared right behind him. “Which may be why she didn’t say it,” he said, smacking Prometheus upside the head.

  Prometheus spun so fast, Pherusa almost missed the moment he closed his hand around Eros’ throat. “No more games.” His whisper was menacing.

  Eros pulled at Prometheus’ fingers but couldn’t pry off his grip. “All right. I know for a fact Pherusa is your soulmate, and unless the two of you bond by nightfall, you’ll unravel.”

  Fear for Prometheus joined the jumble of happiness, hope, and hurt knotted in Pherusa’s stomach. She tugged at the most recent thread. “Unravel?” Like he’d said Kronos would?

  Eros gave her a sorrowful look. “His powers will take over, and he’ll cause one natural catastrophe after the other, before he self-destructs.”

  Prometheus knew the danger. Was that why he tried to shoo Eros away? So she wouldn’t know he’d bond with her solely to save his precious humans?

  The mountain shook beneath them, and dark clouds swarmed the skies above.

  “No,” Prometheus said. “I’d bond with you because I’m done pretending I hate you.”

  Hands on hips, she narrowed her eyes at him. “That’s a long way from you and your father betrayed me. Aaargh. I’ll punish you.” Just as long a way from I love you. To Eros, she said, “Isn’t there another option?” She’d love Prometheus forever, come what may, but she wouldn’t bond with him out of self-sacrifice. He’d have to love her back, wholeheartedly.

  “The only workaround we’ve found is for the sea witch to turn him back into stone,” Eros croaked.

  Pherusa’s chest hurt at the thought of losing him again.

  “The sea witch? You mean Nereus’ crone?” Prometheus asked.

  Because that was the important thing. Males.

  Eros winced. “Circe.”

  “Call her, then. If Pherusa won’t be mine, there can be no bonding.” Prometheus’ eyes had turned golden and blazed like twin fires.

  “You’d turn to stone rather than be with me?” Pherusa stood, ordering her legs to stop trembling, though the ground still rippled with tremors.

  Prometheus snorted. “I’d mate you where you stand, while he watches”—he clenched his jaw, his gaze unreadable—“but you don’t love me.”

  Was he saying whether they bonded or not was up to her? She closed the distance to the men and placed her hand gently on Prometheus’ wrist. “Do you love me?”

  “That’s irrelevant.” The stubborn fool would return to stasis, rather than say the words?

  A boulder behind him was dislodged from the mountain and flung aside by an unseen hand.

  By his power.

  A strange calm unfurled in her belly, despite the chaos raging around her. “Tell me.”

  “I do, Chaos damn it. I love you with everything I am.” He screamed the words.

  In her head.

  She could hear his thoughts.

  Had he heard hers before? Was that why his responses to Eros made no sense?

  She probed his mind and saw his love for her, clear as day—it was bound inside fear and pain, but it shone brighter than Helios himself.

  Focusing on where her skin met his, she projected a mental image of herself peeling away the layers of darkness around his heart. “I love you,” she thought at him. Aloud, she added, “I never stopped. It’s on you that we’re not already bonded, because I gave my heart to you the moment we met.”

  Eros flickered, and then disappeared, Prometheus’ grip on him not that confining after all.

  Prometheus stumbled but righted himself. “Say that again,” he ordered her mentally.

  “I love you,” she said inside her head and out. “You are my soul. You have my heart.”

  The earth heaved beneath her, throwing her into his arms, and Eros’ disembodied voice said, “You’d better continue this elsewhere. If Circe is right, Kronos is buried inside Olympus, and what you’re doing is bringing him closer to consciousness.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Even before the echo of Eros’ words faded, a splitting headache ripped through Prometheus’ skull. This must be how Zeus felt when Athena was born, only no goddess was tearing her way out of Prometheus’ head. It was his brothers’ screams, clanging against his brain.

  He saw Hyperion again, frozen with his arms over his head and at the same time thrashing inside his own body. Atlas, kneeling behind a glass pane, roared so loud, Prometheus grinded his teeth to bite back his own agonized scream.

  And once more, Kronos’ wrathful bellows overtook everything else.

  Prometheus willed the voices and images away. His head grew quiet, but the brewing storm above didn’t relent. He brushed a quick kiss over Pherusa’s lips and grabbed her hand. “Come on.” If it was up to him, Kronos would never walk this earth again.

  “Where are we going?” Her cheeks were flushed, and her green eyes shone feverishly with desire. She bit her lip, and Prometheus wanted to bond with her right here, this very moment, even if it brought Kronos back to life.

  But this time they’d do things right.

  “You love me,” he said. He’d never get tired of hearing it.

  Her expression turned somber. “With all my heart. Always have.”

  “And you and your father had nothing to do with Zeus’ capturing me.” It was a statement, not a question.

  She flinched, but her voice was steady as she said, “Nothing whatsoever.” She pursed her lips, then added, “I know you can read my mind. Why not see for yourself, if you still doubt my words?”

  He was as tempted as he was surprised she’d figured out he could glean her thoughts uninvited, but love came with inherent risks, and he’d have to risk trusting her on this if they were to have a future. “I believe you. Let’s go.” He realized he was yelling. The wind had picked up and howled in his ears, the air filled with the smell of rain. They were cutting it close.

  Pherusa raised her gaze to the darkening sky. “You still haven’t told me where.”

  He grinned. “To Vythos. I need to patch things up with your father, and ask for his and your mother’s blessing to become your bonded mate.” Not that he wouldn’t bond with her anyway, but it would make Pherusa happy to have her parents on her side, so he’d extend this olive branch.

  A crack formed on the earth beside them. It was small, but he didn’t plan on sticking around till it widened. He tugged on
Pherusa’s hand and blinked them right outside Nereus and Doris’ bedroom. He was surprised not to see a guard outside the door, when a Titan—he—was on the loose.

  Maybe the royal couple weren’t afraid of him.

  The thought pissed him off a little, but mostly it warmed him up inside. They didn’t see him as a threat, because they knew deep down he still cared. Like they did.

  Pherusa frowned. “Why not the throne room? Or the council room? Father should be there now, regrouping his forces.”

  “If he’s not here, we’ll wait. He’ll have to go to bed at some point, and I’d rather we talked to him and Doris without dozens of armed mermen vying for my blood.”

  She tapped his shoulder playfully. “Yeah, because they scared you so much, Mr. I’ve-had-a-Dinosaur-for-a-Pet.”

  He snatched her hand and laid it flat over his heart. “Not any dinosaur. It was a Tyrannosaurus Rex.”

  “Sure. Gods forbid it be a plain dinosaur.” She laughed, but there were thin lines of tension at the outer corners of her eyes. She was stressed about how this would go.

  “Before we talk to your parents, I need to apologize to you,” he said. “For hurting you.”

  Her fingers flew to the blood on her head, where the skin had knitted itself back together. “It was a tiny cut. It’s healed.”

  Prometheus shook his head. “Not now. When I first awoke. I would have been gentler, if I knew... I thought you were a dream, and then... I wasn’t thinking with my head.”

  “I forgive you.” The words felt like a caress that broke the last of the chains binding him to the past.

  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and rapped the knuckles of his free hand on the door.

  Nothing.

  He raised his hand to knock again, when Doris’ voice reached his ears.

  “Come in.” The queen sounded tired.

  Pherusa turned the door handle and pushed.

  Prometheus was close enough behind her to see Doris’ eyes light up when her daughter entered. To his relief, Doris didn’t scowl when she spotted him.

  Doris opened her arms, and Pherusa burrowed into them. “I knew you’d bring her back,” Doris said. She had more faith in him than he deserved. A smile blossomed on her young face, making her look so much like Pherusa. She motioned him closer and patted his arm. “You didn’t stop loving her.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yeah, well, he had me fooled for a while.” Pherusa sniffed indignantly and stepped out of her mother’s embrace, immediately seeking out Prometheus’ hand.

  He tangled his fingers through hers, letting the contact ground him. “My rage wouldn’t let me see straight. Now my head is clear, I know better.”

  “Good.” To Pherusa, Doris said, “Have you told your father yet?”

  Pherusa shook her head. “Prometheus thought we should wait for him here.”

  “Wait? And let him go mad with worry?” Doris tutted and went to an old armoire, made of driftwood and coral, like most of the furniture in the palace. She opened the first drawer, retrieved a small, sculpted horn, and brought it to her lips. No sound reached Prometheus’ ears, but Doris nodded to herself and returned the horn to its place. “He’ll be here shortly.”

  She led them to a sofa and two mismatched armchairs, and motioned for them to sit. “He’ll be better behaved if he doesn’t perceive you as a threat,” she told Prometheus. “Though you might want to cover yourself. The palace is not clothing optional these days.”

  Prometheus wasn’t embarrassed by his nudity, but he’d come here as a friend and would follow the rules. “I am afraid I have nothing to wear,” he said.

  Doris left the room and returned shortly with a seaweed robe. “It will be a snug fit, but he’ll see you made an effort.”

  A couple days ago, Prometheus would give up his life before he was forced to put on one of these things. Now he thanked Doris, pulled on the robe, and sat on the sofa, careful to keep it closed over his groin.

  Pherusa made herself comfortable next to him, one hand on his thigh.

  He hadn’t realized he was nervous until a sense of calm spread through him at her touch.

  Opposite them, Doris folded her lithe frame in a chair. “So what have you two crazy kids been up to?”

  Images from their lovemaking the past couple days flitted through Prometheus’ mind, and he ducked his head as if the queen could read them in his eyes.

  Pherusa gave him a light squeeze. “Not much. Rediscovering each other.”

  Doris smirked. “Can’t say I blame you.”

  The main door to the bedroom opened so fast, it slammed against the wall behind it, and Nereus strode in. “You called, my love?” He was still in his fighting gear, though the tail had been replaced by legs. When he saw Prometheus, his hand flew to the hilt of his sword.

  “You don’t need that,” Doris said. “There is no threat here.”

  Prometheus instinctively half-leaned in front of Pherusa, though her father posed no threat to her. “King Nereus.” He stood and gave a small bow, hoping this was enough to show he wasn’t here for a fight.

  The thin line Nereus’ lips formed indicated he didn’t see it that way. “Prometheus. Are you here to return my daughter, or to demand my throne again?” His voice was so loud, Prometheus wouldn’t be surprised if guards barged in any moment now.

  “Neither,” he said. “I’m here to do something truly difficult—apologize for not accepting your word to begin with, old friend. I should have believed you and Pherusa. I should have known...”

  “And now you do?” Nereus asked. His tone was guarded, but he crossed his arms, no longer poised to attack.

  Prometheus nodded. “I wish to ask for your blessing to be mated to your daughter.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Doris arch an eyebrow. “Yours too, Queen Doris,” he added hastily. “As a show of good faith, I promise to side with you, should Kronos arise, and I’ll do my best to ensure all other Titans who awaken join us.”

  Nereus flared his nostrils. “You put us through a lot. My wife has not slept in two nights—”

  “Only because of your incessant grumbling and pacing, husband.” Doris rolled her eyes. “I never feared he would harm her. Even Circe told you they are soulmates, but you only listen to her when it suits you.”

  Nereus gave her a dirty look and then glared at Prometheus. “Hurt my daughter, and Zeus’ wrath will be nothing compared to what I will do to you.”

  Prometheus could point out that he was more powerful than the king and his army combined, but he put aside his ego and kept his mouth shut.

  “Good boy,” Pherusa said in his head.

  “You like me better when I’m bad,” he replied in the same manner.

  Doris glanced from one to the other, then slid her gaze to Nereus and smiled.

  Nereus shook his head. “If my wife is correct—”

  “Which I always am.”

  “—you are already mentally linked. Far be it from me to keep my daughter from a happiness long due. You have my blessing. Both of you.”

  Pherusa’s face glowed with happiness. “Mother?”

  “Let me think about it.” Doris scratched her chin.

  “Mother.”

  “All right, daughter. You and your beloved have my blessing. May your eternity be filled with love.”

  “And sex,” Prometheus thought at Pherusa.

  Her pale skin turned rosy with the most beautiful blush. “Then, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll be in my room,” she said with a giggle.

  Nereus covered his face with his palm. “And I will be far, far away,” he mumbled. “The Atlantic is nice, this time of the year.”

  Prometheus didn’t hear what Doris said, because he was too busy blinking Pherusa and himself to her bedroom, on the other side of this floor of the palace.

  He took in the room before him. He’d been here a couple of times, in another lifetime, and it hit him hard how unchanged it remained. Time had frozen for the girl—woman—who lived here. />
  The curved single bed, forged out of pink coral, was adorned with white sheets and a dozen of fluffy pillows, picked up from shipwrecks through the years. Their colors had barely faded, the magical light of Vythos nowhere near as destructive as the rays of the sun.

  The nightstands were littered with pieces of colored glass, smoothened by the waves, and shells in all shapes, hues, and sizes. Even the pale golden glow of Vythos was filtered through red-tinted glass, washing the room in pink hues.

  A vaguely humanoid shape caught his eye at the far left corner. Was someone else in the room?

  He spun, pushing Pherusa behind him, and blinked in disbelief. A statue of himself in bronze stood there, smirking at him. The resemblance was uncanny. He turned to face Pherusa, who was blushing. “How...?”

  Her lips twitched. “From memory.”

  The level of detail was astonishing. “You made this?”

  “I had help, but mostly yes. Took me a few hundred tries to get it right. I needed to see you, so I forged you.”

  How had he ever doubted this woman’s loyalty and love? He slanted his mouth over hers and poured everything he felt—his every hope and fear and all his love—into this kiss.

  She pushed gently on his chest and whispered against his lips, “We’re filthy.”

  What?

  Oh, she meant it literally. Sprigs clung to their hair, her dress was matted with mud, and his ass had a coating of dirt. Shower sex could be fun, but he wanted to bond with her in her bed. “I have an idea,” he said.

  “What?” she asked in his head.

  He blinked them to the ocean, for the water to clean them. Pherusa’s legs melded into a gorgeous green tail that she flapped from side to side, as she glared at him. “You could have given me a moment’s warning,” she thought at him.

  Prometheus laughed, not minding the water rushing in his mouth and down his throat. Titans couldn’t drown, after all.

  “We can’t blink back to my room like this. Everything will get wet,” she sent him.

  The mental image of her divine pussy accompanied her words, and he was painfully hard in a heartbeat. But he’d do things the way his Siren wanted. He focused on the top of the castle, just inside the bubble, and in a split second, they materialized on the soft pillows there. Pherusa stood and discarded her soggy dress, and he took off his robe in favor of a dry one she handed him from beside the door.