The dark grey beast swung its head towards him and snapped at him, hissed and flashed long fangs as its yellow eyes narrowed on him.
Thanatos could almost read its thoughts. Knew exactly what it intended to do once it had reached a satisfactory height.
It was the reason he had stabbed it in two places.
He dropped again, dug the fingers of his left hand into one of the wounds and held on tight. The wyvern roared again and flapped its broad wings harder. Thanatos growled, hefted his sword in his right hand and started hacking at the beast’s right wing where it joined to its body.
As predicted, the wyvern rolled in the air, attempting to throw him. Thanatos clung to the creature, dangling below it one moment and slamming against its back the next. He kept hacking at the wing, cutting through the thick scales to the muscle beneath.
Forcing the beast to land.
It hit the ground hard and reared onto its legs, shook and snarled as it tried to dislodge him. When that didn’t work, it snapped at him and he was forced to move further down its back to avoid the wyvern’s sharp beak.
His sword hit bone.
On a mighty bellow, Thanatos swung with all his strength.
Shattered the bone with his sword.
Vibrations rang up the length of his silver blade, numbing his hand for a moment, but he didn’t pause for even a second. He pushed up and stood on the beast’s back as it howled and screeched, and desperately tried to reach him. He drew down a deep breath and swung his sword again, grimaced as it struck the wyvern’s meaty neck and blood spurted across the black ground. He swung again and again, hacking deeper as the beast struggled, not stopping until he hit the creature’s spine.
The wyvern’s head lolled and it collapsed to the ground.
Thanatos breathed hard, stabbed his sword into the dead beast’s back and rested on it.
Calindria shrieked again.
Strength surged through him, pushing fatigue to the back of his mind, and he beat his wings, the urge to reach her strong, propelling him forwards. His eyes widened as he reached the place where he had left her, as he spotted her clutching her left side.
Crimson stained her hand, spilled down her leg from beneath the tunic she wore.
Rage veiled the world in that colour and Thanatos shot towards the wyvern stalking towards her as she edged backwards, as she bumped into the wall of the canyon and threw a panicked look at it.
Darkness was swift to overcome him, obliterating all rational thought as the need to protect her clashed with the fact he had already failed in that task and she was injured. He slammed into the remaining wyvern, was only dimly aware of what he was doing as he hacked and slashed at it, as the black hunger to kill it consumed him.
“Thanatos.” Calindria’s soft voice curled around him, coaxing him back from the darkness.
Into the light.
The battle-haze lifted and he stared at the carnage spread before him. The wyvern’s head was just to his right, one of its wings removed and discarded against the opening of the cave, and it was missing one of its legs. There was a huge opening in the creature’s grey chest too, a gaping hole where its heart had once been.
“Thanatos?” Calindria’s voice swept around him again.
He blinked and looked at her, frowned as he saw all the blood on her. He rushed to her and gripped her shoulders, looking her over as fear pounded inside him. She still clutched her side, but he couldn’t spot any other wounds on her. Where had all the blood come from?
He stilled as it hit him.
Looked down at his own bloodstained body.
The wyvern.
He had sprayed her with blood when he had been killing it.
He looked back at her, into her eyes this time, needing to see that what he had done hadn’t repulsed her. Stilled again, his lungs tightening as he saw the tears that lined her lashes.
Tears he was sure were his fault.
He just couldn’t stop doing everything wrong with this female, even when he desperately wanted to do everything right.
“I saw the demigoddess again… I thought perhaps she might try to hurt you. I only wanted to protect you, Calindria.” And himself too. And whatever fragile thing this was they had going on. He didn’t want to destroy it, but he feared that he had.
“The demigoddess?” Her blue eyes widened a little, understanding dawning in them. “The one who defeated you in battle?”
He nodded. Risked it and lifted his right hand to her face and smoothed his fingers across her ashen cheek.
“We will talk more about that later.” He looked around him and noticed something. “What happened to the Messenger?”
She shook her head and the way she paled further said something bad had happened to the male.
“Did the wyverns kill him?” He saw the answer to that question in her eyes as more tears filled them. He shook his head. “You do not have to answer that.”
Her face crumpled anyway, and his heart went out to her, softened to mush even as it hardened to stone, filling with a need to cross over into the veil and find the Messenger so he could kill him all over again.
He gathered her into his arms, relishing the fact she didn’t resist him, how she stepped into him instead, nestling against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and she did the same to him, only she clung to him, her fingers pressing hard into his ribs as she trembled.
Gods, it broke his heart.
He held her to him, smoothed her dirty blonde hair and pressed a kiss to it as she held him, as he felt the war inside her, a battle against her desire to cry.
“He tried to…” She pulled down a sharp breath. Shuddered. “He said she told him we would be together. That I… I would be… his.”
She.
“Do you think—” She cut herself off.
Thanatos nodded and ran his fingers through her hair. He didn’t think. He knew. “He was working with the demigoddess. This is her realm. She is the one who held you here… and by the gods, I will make her pay for that.”
He seethed with a need to return to the building he had seen, one where the demigoddess might still be, anger surging through him as he thought about the fact she had held Calindria all these years, had been responsible for her torment, and had almost gotten her hands on Calindria again because of him. He had almost handed Calindria over to her with his actions, had driven her to within the demigoddess’s reach by leaving her with the Messenger.
He would never have forgiven himself if the male had gotten what he wanted.
“I am sorry I left you with him.” Thanatos cupped her head in both hands, gently drew her away from his chest and angled her head back so she was looking up at him. He stared down into her eyes, feeling wretched as pain glittered in them, laced with fear. His fault. “I’m sorry I left you, Calindria. It will not happen again. I swear it. From now on, I will always be by your side.”
Her eyes darted between his. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I lashed out at you.”
He shook his head now, because she had no reason to apologise for her actions. He had been the one at fault. He had hurt her again and she had acted to protect herself.
“Forgive me?” he husked.
Desperate for her to do just that.
He stared into her eyes.
Feeling as if everything hinged on her answer.
Chapter 23
Calindria tilted her head back, the earnest look in Thanatos’s silver eyes touching her heart as she gazed up at him. He was truly sorry, seemed pained by what he had done, or perhaps it was the fact she was making him wait to hear whether she would forgive him or not.
Part of her wanted to make him wait a while longer, but the rest of her couldn’t be so cruel to him. They had both made mistakes, and they had both paid for it. She let go of her desire to punish him and stepped closer to him, angling her head back further.
Her eyes fell to his lips.
A streak of blood darted across his face just beyond the left corner
And gods, part of her had loved it.
“Forgiven,” she murmured, eager to move on to the next part of what was fast becoming a forgiveness ritual.
He dipped his head and captured her lips, kissed her as softly as the last time he had asked for forgiveness and received it. Warmth bloomed inside her and sank all the way to her marrow, made her feel light inside, as if she was floating in his arms. Heat wasn’t the only thing that stirred within her though. A sense of connection did too, one that made her feel as if they were one in this moment, tied together by more than their mouths and their bodies. They were joined by a greater force too.
Love.
She mourned the loss of his lips against hers as he pulled back, watched the warm look that had filled his eyes turn to darkness again as he looked her over.
“We need to get you cleaned up,” he muttered and dropped his right hand and settled it over her left hip.
She shivered at the heat of his touch as it soaked through the black material that covered her, didn’t hide how he made her feel as his gaze darted up to meet hers. His pupils dilated and a corona of blue fire ignited around them.
She could read his thoughts in those eyes that seared her.
He was thinking about bathing with her.
She was thinking about it too, but not in the way he was. She had forgiven him, but she wasn’t ready to take that leap again with him. Not yet. Not when she still hurt from the way he had reacted last time.
Calindria led him back through the maze of the canyon, aware of his gaze on her, how it lingered on her clothing. She didn’t want to look at the knee-length tunic, because it would only lead to her thinking about what she had done. It had been her or the Messenger, and she had done what she’d had to do. There was no point in dwelling on it.
She kept telling herself that but it didn’t help.
“Does it hurt?” Thanatos croaked behind her.
She shook her head. “Surprisingly, it doesn’t. It did, but it no longer does.”
She touched her side and it didn’t even sting.
“Maybe I heal quickly?” She looked over her shoulder at Thanatos as they reached the tunnel, caught the guilt in his silver eyes before he averted them.
He sighed. “You would not have needed to heal if I had not left you.”
She paused and turned to him, pressed her hands to his dirty bare chest and gazed up into his eyes. He refused to look at her.
“You cannot know that.” She looked beyond him to the canyon. “We would have come this way. The dragons were waiting for prey to come along. There is every chance I might have ended up wounded even with you on hand to fight them.”
He shrugged stiffly and his gaze leaped to her side as his brow furrowed. “Come. I want to see that wound.”
He wanted to take care of it. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to tend to her as she had to him, and for some reason, it unsettled him. Because she had been hurt and he felt responsible, feared retribution for it, or because he wasn’t used to this—wanting to take care of another? By his account, he had been alone a long time. Long enough to forget what it felt like to want to look after another person, to care about their wellbeing?
It had been a long time for her too, but she hadn’t forgotten the need to take care of others, how it had driven her whenever her brothers had been hurt, especially when the brother in question was her twin.
Thanatos led her to the pool, and she didn’t stop him when he unbuttoned her tunic and set it aside. He glared down at the wound on her hip and she looked there too.
The injury hadn’t healed as much as she had imagined, was a gaping circle on her side that was inky dark against her skin. He gently brushed his fingers over her hip just below it.
“Does it hurt?” His gaze darted to hers, his black eyebrows furrowing again.
She shook her head.
Thanatos took hold of her hand and she resisted him when he tried to tug her towards the pool. He looked back at her.
“I will bathe with you, to clean our wounds, but nothing else is going to happen.” She hated the hurt that welled in his eyes as she said that, felt a pressing need to take it away. “I… what you did still hurts… and I think it is best if we don’t do anything until I know… until I know why you find it so hard to trust me when we are together like that.”
His throat worked on a hard swallow and the hurt in his eyes that had been turning to relief turned to panic instead.
Calindria brushed her hand over his chest, into the deep valley between the hard slabs of his pectorals, and settled it right above his heart. “I will not rush you, Thanatos. I will not judge you, either. When you are ready, you can tell me everything.”
The fear in his eyes lingered and she had the feeling he hadn’t believed her when she had sworn she wouldn’t judge him. Was what happened to him so terrible that he thought she would look at him differently if she knew about it? Her heart ached as it slowly dawned on her. He thought she would turn her back on him. He thought that whatever he had been through would make him appear weak to her eyes, a male not worthy of her attention.
Her love.
Oh, how wrong he was.
Nothing could change how she felt about him.
How deeply she loved him.
Instead of letting him lead her into the water, she stooped and removed his boots, and then stood and undid his leathers, tried not to stare as she stripped him of them and placed them with her tunic. She removed her sky-blue top and shorts, and stepped into the water, deeply aware of Thanatos’s eyes on her bare curves.
She steeled herself. As tempting as it was to let need get the better of her, she had to stick to what she had said would happen—bathing and nothing else. She glanced back at Thanatos as he stepped into the pool behind her, the thought of not touching all that glorious, hard flesh a torment she wasn’t sure she could withstand.
He had mercy on her and eased down to sit on the bottom of the shallow pool as soon as it reached his knees. She sank to her backside near him and winced as the water touched her wound.
Thanatos glanced at her, and stared. Hard. Not at the wound, but at her breasts. Her first instinct was to cover them, but she resisted, mostly because the stronger part of her wanted his eyes on her, was enjoying it. No male had ever gazed at her bare breasts before, and the feel of his eyes on them wreaked havoc on her.
She clung to her resolve, letting him drink his fill of her nakedness but swearing it would go no further.
“Calindria,” he murmured, voice thick and low with desire, the evidence of which jutted towards the surface of the clear water. She tried to keep her eyes off it, failed a few times as she looked at him. He cleared his throat, scrubbed his neck and glanced at his wings. “I want to tell you… It is hard.”
She could see that, but she didn’t mention it. This wasn’t the time for making jokes.
“Do not push yourself to tell me, Thanatos. I am sure when the time is right, when you feel ready, that you will find it easier to speak to me about this… to let me in.” She reached across and placed her hand on his bent knee.
Water rolled down her arm and dripped from her elbow, the steady plip of it hitting the surface of the pool filling the tense silence.
“Let you in.” Thanatos stared at her hand, a distant edge to his silver gaze. “I want that… and yet I foolishly fear it.”
“There is nothing foolish about fearing lowering your guard around others. Those who do it too easily, who are too trusting, are the fools.” She truly felt that.
“You sound like your father.” A wry smile tugged at his lips.
She snorted a little at that. “Even before my captivity, I had never been one to blindly trust others. Part of me had always remained on guard around those outside my family, even if I had known them a long time. You are right, and I do believe my father is to blame for part of my personality.”
Hades was like Thanatos. Trust had to be earned, and often paid for in blood. She remembered that much about her father. Those who spilled blood and had their blood spilled on the battlefield while serving him earned his trust. Thanatos must have spilled a lot of blood for her father, because she had the feeling the fact he was the god of death wasn’t the only reason Hades had chosen him as the one who would find her.
She had the feeling it had been because her father knew his strength and his devotion, and trusted him.
“You never trusted me.” Thanatos’s deep voice rolled over her, had her trying to recall how she had acted around him six centuries ago. “You always hid behind your father whenever I visited.”
“I cannot imagine why.” She smiled at him when he scowled at her. “You are quite imposing.”
“Imposing.” He huffed. “Normally when people call me that, they mean to say frightening.”
She shook her head. “I do not think I feared you. Why would I fear anyone when I was with my father? No. I think in a way… I was awed by you… drawn to you. Whenever you visited, I wanted to see you. Perhaps it was the wings. No one else who visited my father had wings like yours.”
He had been slowly looking enamoured by her words, but his face blackened as she mentioned his wings and he huffed again, scrubbed at his arms to rid them of blood. Maybe too many people in this world had been bewitched by his wings rather than by him, admired them rather than the male they belonged to.
Calindria eased closer to him, water cascading over the curves of her breasts, and lightly stroked the fingers of her right hand down the edge of his wing.
He tensed. His silver gaze slid towards her.
“Do not,” he grumbled.
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