“Don’t you dare give up. You hold on. Hold on just a little bit longer. For me.”
His skin grew hot. She had no reason to say those things to him. No reason to be here anymore. And neither did he.
Turning away from the window, unable to look at her as he tried to make sense of everything spinning in his head, he dropped the blanket and stalked toward his closet. He reached for the first pair of pants he could find and the closest shirt, then shoved his feet into a pair of boots. Not caring what he looked like, he turned for the door, intent on figuring out what was really going on.
A guard jumped up from his seat outside Zagreus’s door, his eyes widening when Zagreus stepped into the corridor. “My Prince.”
Irritated someone—probably Nysa—had posted a babysitter outside his bedchamber, Zagreus snarled at the sileni, “Go back to your original post. You’re not needed here.”
“Y-yes, My Prince.”
“Wait.” Zagreus stopped a foot past the guard and turned back. “Give me your blade first.”
The sileni’s brow lowered, but he handed over the sword sheathed at his hip with no protest.
Zagreus gripped the handle and turned the steel in his hand. It was shorter than the one he kept in his room, but he didn’t want to waste time and go back for his own. “I’ll make sure it’s returned to you.”
He headed for the staircase. The grand hall was brimming with activity, nymphs rushing in and out of the kitchen, chatting and laughing about he didn’t give a shit what. Ignoring their startled looks and whispered voices when they spotted him, he moved down the last step and turned for the corridor that led to the courtyard.
Balmy air rushed past his face as he passed under the archway. The scents of earth and apples met his nose. Summer had quickly faded to autumn, and leaves rustled in the trees around the castle, a few falling here and there. But while the nights were already growing colder, the days were still warm enough not to need a coat. Something he was thankful for because he’d only grabbed a short-sleeved shirt.
He had no idea what time it was—afternoon judging by the light—and he didn’t feel like stopping any of the nymphs busily moving things around in the courtyard to ask. Nor did he care to find out what they were up to. His gaze locked on Talisa on the grass, the blade in her hand whirring in the air above her head as she moved in slow motion, clearly explaining some combat maneuver while Rhen and the other nymphs watched.
“It’s a simple move.” Talisa’s familiar voice echoed across the grass. “Forward—swing—back—twist…” She spun toward Zagreus, the blade slicing through the air with a swoosh.
He lifted his own blade to block hers. Their weapons clanked, the sound echoing through the courtyard like cannonfire.
She froze, and her eyes widened and locked on his. Behind her, he noticed the other nymphs were just as shocked by his presence, but he wasn’t here for them. He was here for the female with the violet irises, currently staring at him, not with shock as he expected but with…
Was that unease?
Why the hell would she be uneasy around him? Ticked, livid, irate… Those were emotions he expected from her. Not unease.
She straightened and dropped her sword to her side as those thoughts ran through his mind. “You’re awake. I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”
He watched her carefully as he lowered his own weapon, trying to read her body language, trying to figure out what the hell she was up to and why those images he’d seen before were now flashing behind his eyes in rapid succession.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a low voice.
“Training the nymphs so they know how to defend themselves.” She shot a smile toward the three standing near Rhen. “They’re green, but not as green as I thought. Fast learners, they are.”
That made absolutely no sense to Zagreus, and it wasn’t what he’d asked. “They don’t need to train for anything. Ehrendia has plenty of silens to protect them.”
“Uh-huh.” Talisa reached for the scabbard one of the nymphs brought her then sheathed her blade. “Except when the silens are too busy protecting the city walls, as they were last night.” She met Zagreus’s gaze. “Nymphs can do more than just cook and clean and be at your beck and call, you know.”
What the hell did that mean? Zagreus blinked down at her, wondering if he was still hallucinating.
Before he could figure out how to respond, the nymph who’d bought over the scabbard nodded toward the courtyard and said, “Princess, they’re ready for us.”
Talisa glanced past the rock wall then back at the nymph. “Of course. I’ll be right there.”
The nymph bowed slightly toward Zagreus, muttered “My Prince,” then turned and moved toward Rhen. After handing him the scabbard and blade, she motioned for the other two nymphs to join her, then all three rushed toward the courtyard.
Two things occurred to Zagreus in the silence. One, the nymph had called Talisa princess, and Talisa hadn’t reacted negatively as she had before. And two, Talisa was staring up at him again, not with surprise or even unease anymore. No, this time she was grinning, as if she knew some big secret he didn’t. As if she liked that he was completely fucking clueless.
His eyes narrowed. “What was that all about?”
“Nothing major. Just something I agreed to help the nymphs with.”
His gaze shot to the courtyard, where the nymphs were stringing up lights and hauling in tables and chairs.
Understanding dawned. “They’re holding a feast? Tonight?” He rarely gave a rip what the nymphs did, but he was not in the mood for one of their “feasts.” Especially not tonight. “You’re not going to that.”
Talisa laughed. “Why not?”
Why not? His pulse shot up as he looked back at her. “Because the only place you’re going is back where you belong.”
She stepped close, startling him with the swift movement and intoxicating scent of her skin. He stilled as she braced a hand against his chest and pushed to her toes, bringing their mouths mere centimeters apart. For a second, he wasn’t sure if she was going to bite him or kiss him.
And he wasn’t sure which he wanted her to do at this point.
“News flash, dios. I’m exactly where I belong.”
She lowered to her heels and smiled up at him again. A Cheshire grin that did all kinds of crazy things to his blood. Then she turned and moved into the courtyard.
What. The. Fuck?
Zagreus watched as she reached the nymphs and laughed at something one of them said. He still had no idea what was going on, why she was here, or what was responsible for her sudden change in attitude, but he couldn’t seem to make his legs work to go after her and ask.
Because images were spinning in his brain again. Only these visions weren’t of satyrs or a battle. They were of her. Straddling his hips, leaning over him, gazing down into his eyes, then pressing her luscious mouth to his as her body slowly rocked above.
“It’ll never be too late, dios. Not for you and me.”
Those words had been real. Holy fucking Fates. His pulse shot sky high. They’d been real, and they’d been hers.
And she’d called him dios.
Rhen moved up at Zagreus’s side, holding both sheathed weapons. He nodded toward the courtyard. “She’s something else.”
Zagreus’s heart pounded against his ribs. She was. He just wasn’t sure what.
He turned to look at the sileni who commanded his guard. “Why is she here?”
“You don’t remember?”
When Zagreus only stared at him, Rhen smirked. “I guess not.” His expression grew serious. “She got you back to the castle so Nysa could treat your wounds. Told us what happened with the satyrs so we could man a defense. Then she rallied the mages you were training and helped them resolidify the border. I don’t know how she did it. The mages don’t know how she did it. But, somehow, she did. The borders are camouflaged again, and the stone arch is secured.”
Rhen was talking about
the magick Zagreus had cast. The magick that must have faltered when he’d made his choice.
His gaze shifted from Rhen to the courtyard, where Talisa was now standing on a ladder, hanging lanterns from the pergola.
She wasn’t a mage. Wasn’t a witch or a sorceress. Had no magickal abilities that he’d sensed. She was just… Argolean. A warrior with the guardian markings, yes, but…
Memories swirled in his mind again. Being in that club with her. The Argonaut who’d called out to her, interrupting them. The brunette who’d rushed in just after.
Talisa had said the Argonaut was her cousin. The brunette, he’d sensed, had been royalty—the queen of Argolea’s daughter. A descendant of the Horae. And Talisa had put herself between Zagreus and them, protecting them with her life as if they were both family.
Links, connections, realizations exploded in Zagreus’s brain. He looked back at Rhen. “What happened after that?”
“After she saved the kingdom from those satyrs?”
“Yes.”
“She came back here with me.”
“She didn’t leave?”
“No, she was too worried about you.”
“Why?”
An amused expression crossed Rhen’s features. “Do you really have to ask?”
Apparently, Zagreus did. But he couldn’t seem to form the words.
“Because she was desperate to save you,” Rhen said as if it was obvious.
Zagreus’s blood heated. He glanced toward Talisa again, smiling and laughing with the nymphs in the fading sunlight.
She didn’t remember him. She never remembered him. But she’d called him dios. And she hadn’t run when she’d had the chance. Then she’d kissed him.
He turned away from her, needing space, needing answers. Needing something to clear his jumbled head.
As he stepped toward the archway that led back into the castle, Rhen said, “Are you all right?”
No, he wasn’t all right. Wasn’t sure he’d ever been all right. But he needed to know if his suspicions were correct before he decided what to do next.
“I’m fine.” He hesitated, shoved the blade in his hand at Rhen, then said, “I have to check something. Make sure this gets back to whoever was outside my door.”
“Okay.” Rhen jostled the blade with the others as Zagreus turned. “By the way, everyone expects you to make an appearance at the feast tonight.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Zagreus muttered, moving from grass to stone, barely hearing Rhen’s words.
Rhen chuckled at his back. “Well, that’s something I never thought I’d see.”
Zagreus bypassed the grand hall and the activity that was already busier than it had been when he’d come down and headed for the curved back stairs. Taking them two at a time, he quickly made his way to his bedchamber, slammed the door at his back, and headed right for his bookshelves.
He knew it was in here somewhere.
His fingers passed over leather tomes, finally stilling when he found what he was looking for.
It had taken several years to replace the library his father had destroyed in the Yucatan. As far as Zagreus was concerned, knowledge was more important than possessions. In his world, knowing your enemies strengths and weaknesses was paramount. Some of the books he’d hunted down in human bookstores, but many he’d pilfered from Olympus. He’d gotten good at sneaking in and out of the home of the gods, and none were ever the wiser.
He sank into the high-backed chair near the fireplace and fingered the leather tome. This one had come from Zeus’s personal collection. The complete history of Argolea. Updated automatically, by magick, of course.
He opened the book and flipped pages until he came to the section about the Chosen—the descendants of the Horae—and their unique gifts.
His gaze quickly scanned passages then shifted to the winged omega marking, illustrated on the page. And in a rush of understanding, it all made sense.
Why the Fates had released him. Why they’d given him that task. Why his mono mia had been reincarnated in an Argolean female—in a guardian Argolean female. And just what her role really was in this cosmic immortal game.
His eyes slid closed. The book fell to his lap. Leaning back against the chair, he drew in a deep breath and tried not to panic.
He’d finally done the right thing. He’d let her go. But she hadn’t left. She’d stayed. And now he understood why. Understood that every whisper and touch and kiss and groan flashing in his brain had been real—not a hallucination. And that short of forcing her to leave, which she’d never give in and do willingly now, he’d just fucked up again.
All he’d had to do was resist her last night. All he’d needed to do was fucking die, and she’d be safe. The world would be safe. But because he hadn’t—because he’d never been able to resist her—she was now doomed.
They all were.
Nerves coiled in Talisa’s stomach as she sat on the padded vanity bench in Nysa’s chambers and watched in the mirror as the nymph fiddled with her hair.
Nysa had started by putting all kinds of curls in her normally straight locks. Now, she was pulling the sides up and adding leaves and twigs and sparkly accessories that were both foreign and a little bit fun.
Talisa was not one for getting dolled-up. On the rare occasion she had to dress formally for royal family events back home, she usually went for comfort over style, then changed back into her worn boots, snug pants, and easy-moving tops as fast as she could. But tonight, she had to admit, she was looking forward to accentuating her feminine qualities.
The nymph had already done Talisa’s makeup, giving her that smokey-eye effect and bright red lips. The female staring back at her didn’t look like a warrior for once. She looked mysterious. Exotic. Dazzling. And Talisa couldn’t help but wonder if Zagreus would notice. Or if he’d like it.
Memories of the night before echoed in her mind. The softness of his lips as she’d kissed him. The warmth of his bare flesh as she’d climbed over him. The thick, hot, overpowering pleasure when she’d taken him in and he’d thrust up to meet her.
Her face heated. She definitely hadn’t planned that. Still wasn’t completely sure how that had even happened. But she wanted it to happen again. Wanted it to happen many more times again. As soon as possible.
Her gaze lifted from her reflection to Nysa’s, where the nymph stood at her back, still messing with her hair. Now that she knew the truth, she had a thousand questions.
She licked her lips. “So, um, about Ana…”
Nysa’s lips thinned in clear disgust. “The traitor?”
Talisa smirked, thrilled with the reaction. “Yeah. Is she the only nymph who was close to the prince? Or are there any others I should be aware of?”
“Aware of?”
“Yeah. You know… with?”
“You think the prince was in a relationship with Ana?”
“Wasn’t he? She hated me with a vengeance. She all but tried to have me killed because he brought me here.”
Nysa smiled and looked back down at whatever she was doing to Talisa’s hair. “Ana didn’t just dislike you because the prince showed interest in you, but because he never did in her.”
“Not ever?”
Nysa shook her head. “We all knew she kept trying to seduce him, but…” She shrugged. “The female clearly didn’t do her research.”
“What research?”
“On the prince. It’s well-known he doesn’t play with nymphs.”
Whoa. Wait… What?
“Not with any of them?” When Nysa shook her head, Talisa’s eyes widened. “Ever?”
“Not with a single one. Not since he came to Ehrendia, at least. I’m pretty sure not before, either.”
Talisa sat in stunned silence, trying to make sense of that answer.
Nysa glanced up, amusement crossing her pixie face. “That surprises you?”
Ah… yeah. “What about the nymphs I saw the first day I arrived? There was one, a redhead with a blonde ch
ild, who was flirting with him in the grand hall as if she knew him, intimately.”
“All the nymphs flirt with him that way. They’re infatuated with him because of who he is, but it’s not reciprocal. And that child is not Zagreus’s, if that’s what you’re thinking. Helia and Aia are wood nymphs who were fleeing the satyrs when Rhen and a few of the other silens found them outside our borders. They were brought into our kingdom for safe keeping. That was months before Zagreus even arrived here.”
Talisa blinked at the mirror, barely seeing her reflection anymore. Nysa had said earlier that Zagreus had arrived in Ehrendia three years ago. That he’d been searching for someone.
“Wait.” She looked up at Nysa’s reflection again, disbelief swirling inside her. “Are you saying he hasn’t had any female companionship in three years?”
“That and longer.”
Whoa… “What?”
Nysa’s fingers froze in Talisa’s hair, and she met Talisa’s gaze in the mirror. “You haven’t figured it out yet, have you?”
“Figured what out?”
“Why you’re so important to us.”
Talisa had no idea what the nymph was implying.
“Have you seen any children in Ehrendia besides Aia? Have you seen any nymphs with child?”
A tingle rushed down Talisa’s spine. No, she’d seen no other children. No pregnant nymphs, either. Which, now that she thought about it, was pretty freakin’ weird, considering the population of the kingdom and how the nymphs and silens were always all over each other. Nymphs were said to be highly fertile creatures, especially in the presence of their companions.
Nysa dropped her hands from Talisa’s hair. Stepping to the side, she looked down at Talisa so they were no longer staring at each other in the mirror, her expression not one of amusement anymore, but of urgency. “I might not look it, but I’m five hundred and twenty-three years old. The last time a maenad child was born in this kingdom, I was twenty-four. My race was blessed with long life, like yours, but we’re not immortal. We have timelines, and our timelines are running out. The prince is important to us for several reasons. Last night you didn’t just give him something to live for, you gave us something as well. And that’s why tonight is so important. And why we need to make sure you look irresistible.”
Wicked Page 20
