“I found her,” Theron said simply, refocusing on the king.
The king breathed out a long sigh of relief. “Thank Hera. You brought her with you? Where is she? We need to unite her with Isadora. My daughter isn’t well.”
“They’re both your daughters,” Theron snapped.
The king went still. Zander took a step farther into the room, adrenaline pumping.
The look Theron sent Zander could have boiled blood, but Zander ignored it. Right now he just wanted to make sure Theron didn’t pummel the king. And holy shit, wasn’t that ironic? He was the Argonaut who normally had to be talked down from a rage, not the other way around.
Theron transferred his glare to the king. “Aren’t you curious about her at all?”
The king stayed silent and unmoving. And his total lack of emotion ignited a fury in Theron that Zander had never seen before.
The Argonaut’s coal black eyes grew so wide they seemed to consume his face. His hands clenched into fists at his sides and every muscle in his body bunched for battle. “Well, let me tell you. Her hair is dark, her eyes are violet, just like yours. She’s tall and slim. Athletic. The opposite of Isadora. Built more like you. She runs her own business. Has traveled all over the world. She’s kind and gentle and smart enough to put me in my place. And there’s not much that scares her. When she was surrounded by daemons she kept her cool. Even had the strength to save my ass. More than once.”
“Enough,” the king said.
“She cares little about herself. Would give the shirt on her back to someone in need if she could. And she’s full of more humor and goodness and life than you or I will ever know.”
“That’s enough,” the king said between clenched teeth.
Shit. Shit. Had Zander thought Theron had fallen for the half-breed? The Argonaut hadn’t fallen. He’d dived in headfirst. Without—obviously—fucking thinking.
“Theron,” Zander cut in, trying to defuse the situation, even though he knew he was the last person in the universe who should. Cerek was the peacemaker, not him. “That’s it.”
Theron shot Zander a blistering look. “Fuck you, Zander.”
Whoa. The rage Zander struggled against every day bubbled up to explosive levels. Curling his fingers into his palms, he breathed deep and reminded himself Theron was his kin. And that he was hurting. Zander could identify with that, even if all it did was remind him what an idiotic fool he’d been once.
“I said, enough,” the king repeated firmly.
“Yeah, you know what?” Theron mocked, swinging his gaze back to the king. “I don’t think so.” He took a step closer to the foot of the bed. “Do you have any idea how she reacted when she found out she was half Argolean? She pitched in and helped the Misos—a race she knew nothing about. A race you told me didn’t exist. An offshoot of ours that’s been on the front lines battling the daemons, while we sat back and did nothing. Nothing! Do you know how many there are out there? How many have died? Been maimed? What they’ve gone through because of you?”
The king didn’t answer, and Zander found himself staring at his kinsman, unable to believe that what he was hearing was true.
“Hundreds,” Theron said, eyes blazing. “In that colony alone. Thousands the world over.”
“Holy Hades,” Zander whispered.
“That is enough!” the king screamed.
The king was visibly shaken, and sweating from his old and wrinkled brow, but Theron didn’t back down. “If she knew why I brought her here, she’d probably sacrifice herself for you and your noble cause. Because that’s the selfless kind of person she is. But I won’t let her.”
For the first time, the king’s eyes lifted, and he squinted hard to see. “What did you say?”
“I said I won’t bring her within a mile of Isadora,” Theron said calmly. “Consider your prophecy null and void.”
Zander sucked in a breath.
The king’s face went ashen. “You do not know what you are saying. Isadora will die.”
Theron tipped his head. “And why does that concern you, Leo? Is it because you lose an heir to the throne in the deal or because she’s your daughter? Because as long as I’ve known you, you’ve cared for Isadora about as much as you care for the Misos. And we all know how much anyone outside these sacred walls matters to you.”
The king’s white face went beet red, and he struggled forward in bed. “You do not know of what you speak!”
“I speak the truth!”
In the silence that followed, Zander wasn’t sure what to do. Theron’s rage was so close to the surface, he was vibrating. And Zander didn’t put it past the Argonaut to cross the floor and hurl the old man against the wall. He understood that rage and need to annihilate. Hell, he lived with it daily. And he felt it now. From his friend. From himself. From the flickering image still lingering in his head of Callia brushing him off outside this very door and the unwanted emotions that action stirred inside.
“I’ve seen them,” Theron said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen what they’ve been through. And yet you did nothing. We did nothing! And now you want to set Atalanta free from Tartarus so you can truly start your precious war? Unleash the daemons? I won’t let you do that. I won’t let you kill one more person to make your twisted prophecy come true. Not even for Isadora. You can call on all the gods on Olympus to come to your aid, but know this now. I’ll never let you get near Acacia. I’ll die first.”
The king gasped. Theron turned for the door.
“Your father understood,” the king called at his back. “He had more honor in his right hand than you’ve got in your entire body.”
Theron’s fist hit the wall near the door so hard, it created a crater the size of a window. He pulled his arm from the rubble and glanced over his shoulder toward the king. “My father’s dead, you son of a bitch. And you can join him, for all I care.”
Theron stormed out of the room, leaving a seething tension in his wake. One that washed over Zander like a wave, pushing and pulling him in the current left behind. The bond he had with his forefather Achilles, with Theron, urged him to follow and say “Fuck you” to the world. But that part of him that struggled with what was right and what was expected of him rooted his feet in place.
“Argonaut,” the king rasped. “Are you still here?”
Yeah, he was still here. Just like always. Spending eternity fighting the same damn things he’d been fighting the last eight hundred years of his never-ending life. “I’m here.”
“You’ve just been appointed leader of the Argonauts. Gather the rest of the guardians. I want the Chosen brought to Isadora now. And if Theron stands in your way, you have my permission to use whatever force necessary to remove him.”
Holy…fuck. Zander’s brow lifted in utter shock. That was not what he wanted. Not by a long shot. He was a fighter. Not a leader. Not ever.
“I think—”
“Go. Now,” the king snapped. “If you can’t follow orders, I’ll find someone else who can.”
He was being dismissed? Like that? Not likely. It didn’t matter that the order came from the king. At that moment, Zander had a memory flash. Of another ándras. Dismissing him in much the same way. As if he were nothing.
That time it had been because of a female too.
That rage pushed up against the barrier of his control. And Zander narrowed his eyes. “Theron’s stronger than all the Argonauts put together. And if what he just said is true, he’s got every reason to stand against you, Your Highness.”
At the king’s gasp, he turned for the door. “I won’t be your patsy. Not yours. Not anyone’s. Get yourself another guardian.”
Casey threw back the covers on a long sigh and climbed out of Theron’s big bed. She couldn’t sleep. Her body was exhausted, but her mind was racing. The catnap she’d taken had only made her insomnia worse.
And that blasted tingling on her lower back just wouldn’t go away.
After a hot shower that did nothing to relax her, she dug throug
h Theron’s dresser and found a white T-shirt that hit at her knees. The thing was huge, but she smiled as she pulled it over her head. It smelled like him and was soft against her skin, and that, at least, was comforting.
Barefoot, she headed down the long hallway, intent on investigating a little, if she was going to be stuck in his house alone. At the entry to the massive living room she paused, and when she didn’t see Cerek, she crept into the room and looked around.
The scent of thyme was strong here, and one look told her it was coming from an incense burner across the room. She moved closer to look. Yep, that’s what it was. Weird.
She turned away, studied the decor. It pleased her beyond belief that there were no feminine touches. The colors, furnishings, even art on the walls were all very masculine with sleek lines and bold patterns. No girlfriend had decorated this place for him. He’d done it himself.
She ran her hand over the top of a sofa table as she passed and remembered what he’d said to her in the woods. In my world, an ándras can tell if a gynaíka is his soul mate by sharing a bed. She chuckled at the ludicrous thought. Then sobered as her cheeks heated and warmth slid down her abdomen.
It didn’t make sense. As sick as she knew she was, she shouldn’t be contemplating sex with a guardian as strong as Theron. But she was. In fact, she’d shored up her courage and decided that was exactly what she wanted. She couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d kissed her before Zander and Cerek had arrived. About the way he’d touched her. About what would have happened had they not been interrupted.
In serious need of a distraction, Casey headed for the kitchen and told herself she’d find something to eat. Theron was right. She needed to keep up her strength for whatever was ahead. And especially for the night she wanted to have with him when he returned. She’d worry about everything else later.
She pulled the giant refrigerator open and peered inside. Sandwich fixings, what looked like leftover pasta, some kind of meat she didn’t even want to look at, bottled water, beer and juice. No soda. A smile played across her mouth as she reached for the container of juice and remembered the meal she and Theron had shared back at her house. For the most part, things in this world seemed pretty normal to her. Everything except the no-soda thing.
She was just pouring herself a glass when she heard muffled voices outside the kitchen window. Cerek was on the porch talking to someone just out of her view. Her adrenaline pulsed as she tried to peer around Cerek’s massive body. Who else would come out here?
A moment later she got her answer when the kitchen door swung open and Theron stomped into the house.
Her heart kicked up as she lowered her toes and smiled at him. “Hi, honey. How was your day?”
One look from his sullen eyes and her smile faded. Okay, not such a good day after all.
He crossed to the refrigerator and closed the door she’d left open with a snap. “What are you doing out of bed? I told you to lie down.”
“I didn’t realize it was an order.”
“It wasn’t. It was a suggestion. A very strong one. Now go back to bed.”
Casey stared at him. That tingling came back stronger than ever. He was in a mood for some reason. She could either fight with him or try to soothe him. The latter sounded a thousand times better.
“Stop worrying, Theron. I’m fine.” She tried a smile. “I missed you.”
His eyes softened, just a touch, so she pushed up that courage again and crossed to him. She lifted his hand with the intention of kissing it, but the swollen red cuts across his knuckles stopped her. “What happened?”
“Nothing.” He quickly drew back and walked to the sink, where he turned on the water and washed his hands, cringing slightly as the soap touched his open wounds.
“That’s not nothing.”
“Let it go, Acacia,” he said, not bothering to look at her. “It’s none of your business.”
None of her business? Whoa. Wait. She loved him and wanted to help ease whatever was wrong, and it was none of her business? He’d gone to see her father and come back not only in a surly mood but with cuts across his skin, and that was none of her business?
“You’re a rotten liar, Theron.”
“Argonauts can’t lie. It’s a curse.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Then they omit extremely well. You’re the king of omissions.”
He ignored that barb and instead grabbed a towel from the drawer. “I have some things I need to do. You really should lie down and get some sleep.”
That was it. Breaking point.
“Argh!” She crossed the kitchen, grasped his arm and pulled as hard as she could until he faced her, then shoved him in the chest until his back hit the counter. “Your little secrets are really starting to piss me off. And I swear to God, if you tell me to go lie down one more time I’m going to slit my wrists! Or yours.”
His eyes widened at what she knew had to be her crazed features, but she didn’t care. She’d had enough.
“Acacia.”
She mimicked his confused expression and punched him hard in the shoulder. “Theron!” Pain zinged up her arm, but she gritted her teeth and stared back at him.
Slowly, his eyebrows drew together. “Are you…teasing me again?”
Teasing him? Oh, holy hell. He might be one of the greatest guardians ever, but the man was clueless.
She glared hard. “If I were teasing you, Theron, I’d come up with a much better way to do it. Like this.”
On impulse, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and dropped it to the floor until she was standing stark naked in front of him. Those befuddled yet sinfully sexy eyes of his widened until she was sure they might just pop out of his head. And considering how fired up she was right now, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.
“I know I’m just a job for you, but you might want to work on your hospitality skills. They basically suck. Oh, and for the record, I’m not tired at all. But thanks for the suggestion.” She turned on her heel and marched out of the room.
She might have made it all the way back to the bedroom if she hadn’t been hit by a train from behind halfway down the hall. At least, that’s how it felt. One second she was walking, the next she was being swept off the floor and slammed up against the wall.
Her breath left her on a gasp. She hadn’t even heard him move. Somehow he caught her head so her face wasn’t smashed into the plaster. And though he was gentle so she wasn’t seriously hurt, the wind was knocked out of her just the same.
“You’re not just a job to me,” he growled in her ear as he split her legs and wedged himself tight against her backside. His hot breath fanned over her neck, sending even more tingles down her back. “And I don’t tell you things, because I want to keep you safe. Not because I enjoy hiding them from you.”
Her heart rate shot up into the triple digits. Too late she realized her little outburst had been childish and that she’d pissed off a two-hundred-fifty-pound Argonaut warrior with the strength of a bulldozer. “I—”
“And stripping off your shirt was a bad idea, meli, because now I know what every inch of you looks like.” His mouth closed over her earlobe and sucked hard.
She shivered. Caught her breath. Froze when his hand streaked down her abdomen into her folds and found her wetness. Then nearly drove her to the edge.
Oh, God. This is what she’d thought it would be like with him. Fast and frantic, hard and violent. Completely and utterly bone melting.
“Theron—”
She didn’t get to finish her statement because he pulled back, flipped her to face him and claimed her mouth, taking her tongue and lips and devouring them until she was his.
Air brushed over her spine, and only when she hit the mattress did she realize he’d carried her all the way back to his bedroom.
“Feet on the bed,” he ordered.
Her brain was a muddled mess. She planted her heels on the mattress without question. Muffled a cry when he lowered himself to kiss her again, pushing her
thighs wide in the process. His tongue snaked over hers, drew her deep and released with the erotic promise of what she knew he’d soon be doing to her body. A little voice in the back of her mind warned rough, angry, forceful sex wasn’t a good idea, but as his mouth moved south to nip and suck and lick, she had a hard time listening.
His hand found her right breast, his lips, her left. He drew her deep into his mouth and sucked hard until electricity flooded her system, raced to her core, and she arched her back, seeking release. As if he could read her thoughts, his lips blazed a trail down her abdomen, lower still. Until she felt his hand on her ankles, holding her tight in place so she couldn’t move as his head dipped low and his tongue made a long, possessive sweep down her cleft.
She shuddered. Had to bite her lip to keep from screaming when he did it again. Her hands clenched the comforter at her hips as his tongue licked and laved. But when he suckled her, it was too much. Stars exploded behind her eyes and the world shook.
He didn’t let up. He took her to the edge again and again with that talented tongue, with those teasing lips, until she was quivering beneath him.
When he finally released her and she came back to herself, that incredible mouth of his was kissing her hip, her belly button, her ribs just beneath her breasts. Softer this time. Less frantic. Like he had a thousand years to do only this and was memorizing every second.
Nearly too limp to move, she muttered, “Wh-What was that?”
He turned his cheek against her stomach. Drew in a deep breath. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
The change she sensed in him was so dramatic, she didn’t know what to make of it. One minute he’d been out of control, crazy for her. The next, utterly still.
That tingling returned. “Theron?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s wrong?”
Silence enveloped them. Then finally, he said, “Nothing. Everything’s good. Just the way it should be.” But he didn’t sound good. If anything, he sounded…sad.
He eased up on an elbow to look down at her. “Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”
How could she tell him his secrets hurt her more than anything? “No. I liked the way you touched me. It felt good. Like you wanted me.”
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