Tripping over the long belt of her robe, that she’d forgotten to tie up, she would have fallen flat on her face except for the fact that a pair of strong arms suddenly caught her.
Strong, and very human looking arms.
Clinging tight to them, she glanced up and squeaked, “Owiot! You’re here.”
His grin was brighter than the sun, and literally filled every crack and crevice of the castle with its light. Anywhere he moved, he obliterated the darkness.
Beautiful brown eyes ensnared her. “Yes, darkness, I am.”
The way he said that word made her shiver. She swallowed hard, still gripping tight to his arms, unable to peel her fingers off him.
Up until now, Owiot had been the epitome of gentlemanly. Looking at her with respect, and difference. But he was looking at her very differently now. His gaze was hot, smoldering as he straightened them both and slowly perused her body at his leisure.
Her knees shook under the weight of his intense stare. She’d been looked at with lust many times in her life, but this was more than mere lust. This was something else entirely.
It was visceral.
Raw.
Carnal.
Need.
She gulped. Owiot looked similar to what he had yesterday. But his leggings were painted with red clay markings. His moccasins gleaming with beads of turquoise and cobalt, and his chest was painted with black slashes down his ridged and tightly corded abdomen. His hair was still free and long, but a lone eagle feather had been braided into it.
“I thought you left me,” she whispered, digging her nails in deep. Not realizing her actions, until he looked down at her hands, still wearing his ever-present and patient smile.
With a start she released him, tasting her pulse on the back of her tongue.
“I’m...I’m sorry.”
He tipped her chin up. “Don’t be. We have one more day before the trials.”
She knew what he was saying. She nodded. “Spend the day with me, Owiot.”
Not since first meeting George had Fable felt this kind of soul deep need, and honestly, it scared the life out of her.
She’d made herself weak once before, and had nearly paid with her life for it. She’d sworn she’d never do it again. But when she’d woken up this morning without the weight of the demons bearing down on her, and fearing that Owiot had fled, she’d known the choice was no longer her own.
“Always,” he said in a steady voice.
~*~
Calypso
If Calypso’s jaw could have hit the floor, it would have hit the floor. Turning her gaze off the sea orb she watched her granddaughter and Owiot through, she looked at her lifelong friend, Aphrodite, with a stunned expression.
“Holy. Tartarus,” Dite squeaked, looking much the same way Caly felt.
Hades, who rarely participated in the games, except for an occasional update on his only granddaughter grunted, cleared his throat loudly and said, “I’m going for a walk.”
“Mmhmm,” Dite chortled after he’d left. “Because he knows those two are gonna get their bow chicka wow wow’s on real quick. Did you see the way he looked at her!” She clasped her fingers together and squealed again, before tossing herself back on Caly’s clamshell bed with a delirious smile wreathing her pretty face.
But Calypso couldn’t speak.
Because the tears that had been lodged in her throat the day she’d found Fable standing over Snow White were about to break loose.
It took Dite more than a second to realize that her normally gregarious friend still hadn’t said a word.
Frowning now, looking concerned, she jerked to a sitting position. “Cals?”
And that was it. The proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back. Calypso sobbed.
But rather than turn the waves into a choppy tsunami of fury, her tears were happy and grateful and so damned relieved that the waters began to glow an ethereal blue.
The sea animals within joined in their goddess’s joy, chattering and swimming happily.
Understanding immediately touched Dite’s brows. “Oh, Cals. It’s okay, sweetling. She’s okay. She’s going to be okay. I told you, you’ll get her back. Love may not be able to build a mansion of gold, but I’ve found that love can often do wonders to heal a fractured soul.”
Then tugging on Calypso’s shoulder, Aphrodite pulled her in for a tight hug, and the elemental goddess who never cried now cried for the second time in so many days. Tears of absolute and incandescent joy, because deep down she knew her granddaughter was truly going to be okay now.
Aphrodite looked back at the sea orb with a bright and happy smile on her face. “I am going to do something for your granddaughter, something I rarely do, my sweet Calypso, but only because I love you so much.”
Caly frowned. “What?”
“I am going to meddle,” she said sweetly, and then touching the very tip of her finger to the sea orb, she closed her eyes and glowed with love.
The waves of that powerful emotion filtered through her very pores, pouring into the sea orb in rushing, pulsing waves of incandescent mother of pearl. The light show last less than a minute, and when it was done, and Aphrodite no longer glowed, she turned to Calypso and smiled wide.
Her big blue eyes practically gleamed in her stunningly, beautiful face.
“What did you do, Dites?”
Themis, who was mostly a wraith in this games, stepped through into Caly’s room just then. Dressed in scuffed jeans at the knees, barefoot, and wearing a Def Leppard t-shirt that cut off at her belly button smiled brightly, her lambent milky white eyes gazed upon them—it was no small thing to be stared down by Justice, only the few with nerves built of steel could endure it, but even Caly got fidgety about it if it lasted too long. Themis had also recently dyed her naturally silver-white hair to a shocking shade of fire-engine red. In short Blindy looked hawt.
Themis was the goddess of justice, and one of a very few on the short list of besties she had.
“I believe I can answer that,” she smirked.
Aphrodite rolled her eyes. “Don’t start with me, Thems. You’d better not tell me that was breaking any rules because you and I both know—”
“What in holy Tartarus did you do!” Caly snapped, feeling anxious and nervous for her granddaughter.
Themis crossed her arms, glared hotly at Calypso, but then realizing the elemental was about to completely lose her mind, finally sighed deeply and said, “Aphrodite pumped their realm full of love juice. Basically shot them up with a speedball of love, lust, etc., etc,” she said as she rolled her wrist.
Calypso frowned. “But weren’t they already well on their way to—”
Aphrodite pinched her brows, rubbing them as though she were tired. “Yes. They were. But I wanted to help not only Fable, who I love deeply but you and Hades too, Cals. Their partnership is a true one, no matter how much I might wish I could, if the hearts aren’t meant to be joined even I cannot make it so. I simply ensured that the match was accelerated.”
“But why?”
Calypso frowned, having a difficult time piecing together why Aphrodite had done that. Fable and Owiot were a true love match, and would have gotten there far sooner than later—as seemed to be the case with a few others in the games, i.e., the Pied Piper and Baba, both stubborn mule-headed women if you asked her.
Themis plopped down beside Calypso and crossed her legs. “No doubt because she knows the prophecy, same as I.”
“Prophecy?” For an ancient, Calypso was feeling wholly stupid at the moment. “What prophecy? Why do I not know of this prophecy?”
Aphrodite cringed and hunched her shoulders, and then speaking rapidly said, “Thems and I didn’t want to bother you with trivialities, we knew how stressful these games would be on you and didn’t wish to worry you.”
Calypso glowered. “The Fates spoke with you two?” she snapped, growing increasingly vexed by her besties. The waters around them began to churn.
Blindy
gave a snuffling sort of laugh, “Oh, tone it down, crazy. More like I consulted them, you know it is sort of part of my gig. Justice and all.” She popped her t-shirt and gave Calypso a soft eye roll, as if to say—you annoy me, but I love you dearly.
One of these days, Calypso was sure she was definitely going to drown their asses. She thinned her lips. “And, what did they say?” she finally snapped after they both sat staring at her like dumb baboons.
“Two will die.”
Caly’s jaw dropped. “What? Two? But, but...not by our hands. You, yourself told us we couldn’t kill any of them, Thems.”
Themis shook her head. “You’re right. It won’t be by any of our hands. But there will be two deaths in these games.”
“Can’t we fix this?” Caly asked she’d never wanted any of the contestants to perish. Not even the damnable Blue, who she hated with the fires of ten thousand suns.
She’d merely wanted the Blue to taste the pain of regret and sorrow, but not the permanent stroke of death.
Both women shook their heads, but Dite was the one to answer.
“We asked, we even considered stopping the games, but the deaths have been prophesied now, there can be no going back.”
Themis sighed. “Our only hope of saving whoever they are is to actually let the games run its course, with us here and monitoring closely; there is the possibility that perhaps, and just maybe, we could somehow work a miracle.”
Finally, Calypso understood why Aphrodite had interceded. Looking to her friend, she said softly, “You’re trying to make sure it won’t be them, aren’t you?”
Dites shrugged, looking adorably embarrassed. “For your sakes and hers, I may have cheated just a little. I want them out as quickly as possible, Caly. Surely, you can understand why now?”
While it didn’t exactly break the rules of the game, it was definitely a gray and questionable area. But this was her granddaughter, and Calypso would break any rules in heaven or in Tartarus to ensure Fable’s safety.
Sighing deeply she nodded. “How much longer until they leave then, Dite?”
Spreading her arms wide, she shrugged. “At a guess, I’d say a few hours to a day or two tops.”
If Calypso could stop these games, she would. But there were limits to even what a god could do. They’d enacted the games, and now for better or worse, they had to let the blasted thing run its course.
Crossing her fingers, she looked back at the sea orb and whispered with all her heart, “Fall in love, little darkness, and do it quickly. Grandmother’s heart can’t take this...”
~*~
Owiot
The Great Spirit had revealed the truth to him.
Just as he’d asked.
Owiot had known that the immediate pull and draw to Fable couldn’t simply be chance. Nothing happened in life without a cause behind it. It wasn’t just a quirk of fate that had brought them together.
Fable was his in truth.
The female crafted just for him.
The female he’d waited his whole life for.
In this strange land full of strange peoples he’d finally found her. But now she had to learn the whole truth of him, a truth she would probably not like.
The thought of losing her now was crippling, but he knew he had to be honest with her above all else.
“You look beautiful today, darkness.”
Long lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks as she smiled shyly. “Thank you.”
When she’d raced down the stairs earlier in the morning, she’d worn nothing but a translucent robe of sheer white dappled with exotic, colorful flowers on the fabric.
She looked like the rare jewel that she truly was and he’d lost his breath for a moment, overwhelmed and dazzled by her beauty.
Now she was dressed in white slip dress that fell to just past her knees and had a peekaboo opening at her shoulders, showing off the gleaming ebony flesh that beckoned him to touch. His fingers twitched helplessly at his sides. The collar of the dress was modest, but also very appealing. It was ruffled and showed just a hint of the tops of her luscious breasts. He wet his lips. Her hair had been twisted up, which should have made her look severe, but she’d placed a wreath of sheer white flowers upon her crown, which had softened her features tremendously. On her feet, she wore dainty slippers that showed off her colored toenails prettily.
Fable was like a breath of fresh air and so different from the woman he’d first met, she looked young and oddly vulnerable, and he found he liked this side of her tremendously.
Last night when he’d opened his sight to her, she’d not been the only one to see a vision. He’d seen one too.
Of her.
Of the life she’d led. The trauma she’d faced. How she’d clawed her way out of it, turning herself from the trusting and caring person she intrinsically was, into a woman chiseled by iron and forged in steel.
It had made Owiot sick to know the pain she’d felt, the violence that had been done to her. To see her at the end of her rope and so desperate to never be hurt again that she’d turned toward black magick to make her feel safe and strong again.
He now understood why Hades had talked to him as he had.
Taking her swinging hands in his, he squeezed them gently, and then in a moment of need brought them to his lips and tenderly planted a kiss on the palm of each lovely hand.
Her mouth slightly parted and her eyes rounded into tiny saucers of surprise. But his heart was too full and too happy to continue to pretend with her. Hanging tight to her one hand, he crooked his arm for her and slipped her hand through it. His smile grew wider as he felt the tremors course through her.
It was satisfying to know she was as affected by him as he was by her.
He’d not slept much, if anything, last night. His thoughts had been solely consumed by this gorgeous, broken woman.
When he’d returned to his mortal form, he’d asked Sister Mountain Lion and Sister Crow for advice.
As females themselves, they’d given him unique insights into the mind of his paired female. He’d spent the better part of the morning crafting his gift for her.
So far as Owiot understood it, within this sheltered realm built just for him and Fable he retained all of his power. Only once they were in the games would he be crippled and deprived of it.
Taking advantage of that fact, it had been simple enough to reshape and reform this oasis into the one Fable had always imagined she would one day be in.
He’d plucked the images straight from her memories last night and while he’d been excited building it for her, now that he led her toward his surprise he had to admit to a fissure of doubt eating away at his insides.
What if she didn’t understand his gesture, or worse, did and simply hated it? He chewed on the inside of his cheek as his stomach twisted with nerves and feelings of idiocy.
“Where are you taking me?” she asked, and his flesh shivered at the husky, morning quality of her already dulcet voice.
Glancing at her, he noted the confused twist of her lips and brows. Such full, kissable lips. Lips he’d just barely touched the day before, but that he now wished he had the right to lean down and claim with authority.
But he couldn’t. Not until he told her everything.
Giving her a secretive smile, he led her toward the front of the castle. “It’s a surprise.”
“Surprise?” She thinned her feline eyes at him. “What kind of surprise? You know not all surprises are the good kinds.”
He chuckled. “My jaded, little darkness. What you must think of me. I am not a wolf.”
She chuckled. The sound was deep and throaty, and again only reinforcing her feline nature to him. “Are you sure about that? Because I’m fairly certain that you a—”
That are quickly switched to an ahh when they stepped through the archway and out into the open. Because no longer were they simply a castle in an abandoned forest. The forest had been temporarily transformed into a bustling, fairy tale cosmopolitan of so
rts.
There were stores and stalls everywhere. People dressed in exotic garb, some of them pale skinned, but others as dark skinned as his own female meandering about as they smiled, chatted, and shopped.
The buildings themselves were an architectural wonder of stone and wood masonry. Polished facades that climbed into the heavens seven, eight, and sometimes even twenty stories high. But all of it built in a haphazard manner that made it reasonable to believe one strong gust would knock them over.
Women looking like exotic flowers in spools of wildly colored fabric dotted the landscape, while men in slightly tamer versions of the clothing accompanied them.
Chimney stacks set atop each building belched out differing colors of smoke. Some red as molten lava, others blue as the cool waters of Seren itself. In short, this place was a fairy tale wonderland of magic and wonder.
“How did...you?” She turned to him. Unable to even finish the final words, because her eyes gleamed and her jaw trembled.
He cleared his throat, hoping that was an excited reaction and that she wasn’t upset.
“These are all my memories?” Unspoken was the word how.
Her long fingernails dug in tight to his chest, but he didn’t flinch at the feel of them carving crescent moon shapes into his flesh. Instead, he lifted his hand and lightly brushed a loose curl back behind her ear.
She shuddered, and her eyes were like twin magnets holding his own gaze fast. Gods, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his life.
None of the parading females around them could hold a candle to his female.
“Last night,” he said deeply, “I saw your memories.”
Her breathing hitched, but he didn’t want her to be nervous or scared of him. So he shook his head and rushed on.
“I just wanted to give you a day, Fable, a day where you could live in truth the reality of your dreams. A day where—”
An inarticulate little cry was the only warning he got before she tossed her arms around his neck and tugged him down with a powerful little yank. His brows lifted high on his forehead in shock, but then he surrendered to her unpracticed charms when her gorgeous, full red lips stole a kiss from him.
The Dark Queen (The Dark Queens Book 5) Page 14
