The sound of his huge body crashing into the ice is brutal. I yell and pound my palms against the frozen barrier, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear. He keeps coming. Fissures form, turning the ice jagged and obscuring my view of him. Blood smears the other side, but the wall holds fast.
I race farther down the side of the ice room, suck in a breath, and then exhale my last bit of Dragon’s Breath. There’s barely enough magic to melt the ice—just enough for a Cat-sized hole. I launch myself through it and land in a heap on the rugs, squashed by the lyre. Pushing up on my arms, I look through clumps of tangled hair and see Kato whirl, his blue eyes frantic. Then he’s on me, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me hard against his body.
My heart nearly shatters my ribs. I make a sound frankly not worthy of myself and throw my arms around him, holding on, my ear against his thundering chest. At least a minute goes by before I can talk without embarrassing myself. “You’re not a battering ram, you know.”
“I don’t care.”
“Your arm is bleeding.”
He squeezes me harder. “I don’t care.”
Kato finally steps back from me enough to grip my face in his hands. His fingers are cold. “I thought you were dead.”
“I could tell,” I say, holding on to his thick wrists. “I am so hard to kill. There’s a lake down there. I sank to the bottom and grew gills. Look!” I tilt my head, showing him. “I thought I was going to drown. It was creepy down there. And cold. Thank the Gods for these cloaks. Thank Hades, I mean. He’s turning out to be a fabulous uncle. There were eels. I hate eels. Are the scars ugly?” Vanity crashes through my verbal tidal wave, and I self-consciously touch my neck.
Looking slightly dazed, Kato shakes his head. “You can hardly see them.”
Meant to reassure me, his lie burns through me instead, igniting my Kingmaker Magic. The scars are pretty damn noticeable, it turns out.
“Thanks for warming me up,” I say from between gritted teeth. Sarcasm should be one of my middle names.
“Sorry.” Kato pulls me back in for a gentler embrace. “They’ll fade. Scars always do.” His hands brush the bundle on my back. “What’s this?” he asks.
“The lyre. The one I was supposed to find before the beast.”
“Where was it?”
“At the bottom of the pit.” I angle my head toward the black hole on the other side of the boudoir ice cage.
Turning me around, Kato supports the lyre while I untie the sling. The moment the instrument’s weight is off my back, I groan and stretch my sore muscles.
“I wondered how you got so heavy,” he says.
“Not with spice cakes, although that would have been more fun.”
The line of his mouth stays flat as he turns the lyre over in his hands. He strums a few chords of hauntingly beautiful music, the purity of the sound making my chest ache. “You couldn’t kill the monster?”
“Kill it? It kicked my ass three ways to Olympus, sliced my leg, threw me into a wall, and drove me over a cliff. And that’s the short version.”
Kato looks up from the lyre, his eyes troubled. “You’re resourceful. And tough.”
“Why, thank you. But it had protective horns, a clubbed tail, and—oh, that’s right—three heads!”
Kato’s expression shifts into something I could almost call a smile for the first time since I found him. He plucks the chords again in the beginnings of a tune I recognize, a ballad popular in southern Sinta. His fingers move with skill and subtlety over the strings. I had no idea he was musical.
“Maybe we’re not meant to kill it.” He keeps playing. “Doesn’t music soothe the beast? I’ll play, you sing.”
“I sound like a strangled Satyr when I sing.”
He smiles. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
“There’s no need for mudslinging,” I say with a huff.
He chuckles softly. “I can carry a tune.”
“Great!” I pat his arm. “That’ll be your job. I’ll stand back—waaaaay back—while you calm the beast. I’m confident you’ll sound as good as you look.”
His chest puffs out. “How do I look?”
“Terrible.” I grin. “You needed a bath, a shave, and a comb before we even set foot on the Ice Plains. Now, I can just barely make out your eyes and your nose. The rest is all”—I flap my hands around—“hair.”
His chest deflates. He eyes me wryly. “I could say the same about you.”
I gasp. “I grew a beard? Do you think Griffin will like it? I’ve been trying to keep it neat, but I may have picked up an eel.”
Kato laughs outright, and he really is unbearably handsome. Some of the grimness evaporates from his eyes. “I was talking about this.” He gives one of my tousled waves a light tug.
I once saw Griffin do that to Kaia. It’s brotherly. Affectionate. My heart squeezes in my chest. My love for Griffin is completely different, but Kato has a piece of me that no man ever had, not even Aetos. Kato sees me, and accepts. In that moment, I realize he’s slipped inside my soul right next to Eleni. They’re a blond-haired, blue-eyed, sunny pair—my light in the dark.
Clearing my throat doesn’t drive away the thick lump in it, or dispel the sudden tightness, so I make a show of smoothing down my hair—a lost cause at this point. “Ah, that. It’s getting to the stage where it deserves a name. The Knotted Nest? The Twisted Tresses?”
“What about the Terrible Tangle?”
I nod. “That has serious possibilities.”
“The Matted Mess?” he suggests.
My jaw drops. “It’s not that bad!”
Grinning, Kato pats my head. “Let’s get out of here.”
Yes, please! “I have your clothes. They’re even dry, thanks to your Eternal Fires of the Underworld Cloak.”
He quirks an eyebrow, taking the things I hand him. “That gets a name, too?”
“I should think so,” I answer loftily.
“Have you named your sword yet?”
I shake my head. “Your mace is outside.” His knives are tucked into his boots, like always.
“I know.” He looks me over, frowning. “Where is your sword?”
“In the beast’s tunnel, along with two knives.” I bite my lip. “I have to warn you… I may have, uh, gone in a few circles. Here and there.”
Kato barks a sudden laugh. “Of course you did.”
I give him a halfhearted evil eye and then turn my back while he changes. The God-sized bed and other low, lavish furniture have fruit bowls and filled platters all around them. I gather food, devouring a bunch of grapes while I’m packing up the rest.
“What happened here? To you?” I try to sound casual and fail miserably.
Kato comes up next to me, grabbing a huge handful of nuts, which he manages to fit into his mouth all at once. The golden fleece hangs from his shoulders, the excess bulk making him feel like a Giant by my side. He takes the heavy satchel from me as he chews, loops it over his shoulder, and then holds it open for me to finish filling with provisions.
“Atalanta…” He clears his throat and then reaches for a cup of water near the bed, drinking deeply. “When she talked about being free, she meant of her virginity. But she didn’t just want it gone, she wanted it annihilated. For two days, she made sure I wouldn’t stop.”
I gape at him. “How does that work?”
A flush works its way across his masculine cheekbones. “She gave me a potion. Some kind of herbs. It tasted vile.”
“You couldn’t…” I wrinkle my nose. “You know?”
The flush deepens. “There was relief, thank the Gods. But I was always ready to start again.”
I glance at his groin. I can’t help it.
Kato tilts my head back up. “The effects wore off. Eventually.”
It’s my turn to flush. “Well, th
at’s good.” I look around. “Is there any left?”
He chuckles, but the sound is strained. “It isn’t fun. Believe me.”
With Griffin, that sounds like it could be a lot of fun. “It wasn’t?”
His expression shutters. “It was exhausting. Empty and exhausting.”
I don’t like the sound of that—or how Kato sounded when he said it. “What about Artemis? You have the fleece, so you must have passed her test.”
“She watched.”
My eyes widen. “The whole time?”
He nods.
“That’s…” I have no words. Kato on display? Forced to repeatedly mate with a woman he holds no affection for?
“She was stunning. A million times more desirable than Atalanta.” A faraway look hazes his expression, but there’s nothing dreamy about it. He looks pained. “She wanted what I could give. She wanted it so much she called for me, over and over, and it was like…like a siren’s song, you know? Especially in my state. But I remembered what you said about needs and wants. I didn’t go to her, and it must have been the right thing to do because she gave me the fleece in the end. Gave me the fleece, took Atalanta, and left.”
I reach out and squeeze his forearm. “You denied a beautiful Goddess who wanted you while you were in the clutches of a drug-induced sexual frenzy. That makes you incredibly strong.”
Kato shrugs, like it wasn’t something heroic.
“And Atalanta just left? She doesn’t strike me as the type of woman to give up a man she wants.”
“Artemis didn’t give her a choice.” He frowns. “Atalanta nearly defied her Goddess over me, and I didn’t even want her. Didn’t even like her.”
A gloomy weight settles over me, despite my joy at seeing Kato again. “You did what you had to do, and you got what we needed. We don’t have to tell anyone what happened here.”
Kato stares at something above my head, or maybe at nothing at all. “Atalanta told me she was raised with bears. She only knew of one way to copulate and didn’t want anything else.” He looks at me again. “I’m pretty sure there’s no hair left on my knees.”
I snort a laugh. It just bursts from me. It must make Kato happy, though, because his features soften.
“I don’t care what we tell the others. That’s not important. This is.” He thumps the golden fleece. “And you.”
“Me?” I shake my head. “I’m useless. I walked in circles, lost my weapons, and fell off a cliff.”
“At least you had a bath. If it weren’t cold enough to freeze off my balls, I’d be tempted to do the same.”
I laugh again. “It’s a long way down, and a long way back up.” I move toward the hole I melted in the ice and then start kicking at the edges until it opens up. “Besides, your balls have proved useful. Let’s keep them intact.”
A low laugh follows me out onto the ledge. Crouching, Kato steps through after me. “Good point, although they might shrivel up and fall off anyway if I ever hear another rhyme.”
CHAPTER 20
Kato not only looks like Adonis, but he has the voice of a God. He puts the beast to sleep within minutes, filling its tunnel lair with the melodious vibrations of the golden lyre and the haunting, sliding tones of a southern lullaby.
Half mesmerized myself, I gather my blades, pull up the slack in Ariadne’s Thread, and then find the torch, relighting it. Neither of us wants to carry the lyre, so we leave it at the entrance to the sleeping monster’s den. When the torch eventually dies, we stop to eat and drink by the dim light of our cloaks, although neither of us has much of an appetite. Before we move on, Kato ties a new knot around my wrist, and we cut off the excess twine.
“I know what you’re thinking,” he says when we pause again some hours later.
My heart does something unruly in my chest. I’m thinking about Griffin. Loyal, selfless, determined, domineering, overprotective Griffin—a man of action, consigned to waiting. He’s probably aged a decade in a week.
I swallow hard. “What then?” My voice is almost steady.
Kato turns his back to me and then relieves himself against the tunnel wall, probably melting a line down the ice. “That it’s a good thing we’re not eating much because pissing is one thing, but there’s no way you want to share a latrine with me for anything else.”
Expecting anything but that, I burst out laughing. “Gah! You’re such a man.”
Kato turns back around, grinning. “Last time I checked, I had the right parts.”
And the last time I checked, my feet were dragging, and I was missing Griffin so much I was close to tears.
I shove Kato’s fleece-covered shoulder, still smiling. “You go first. Your cloak is brighter.”
We walk, and walk, and walk. Time moves slowly in cold, dark monotony, broken only by Kato telling me stories, mostly about Griffin, and by my sharing whatever thoughts come into my head. When we stop, we do so huddled together against the chill, taking turns sleeping, although Kato doesn’t get his fair share of rest, and I seem to need more than I ever have before.
Not having any clear sense of the passing of the days, it’s a shock to see the light from the first cavern, not only because it’s so bright to our unaccustomed eyes, but because it means we’re less than a full day’s walk from the exit.
My heart starts pounding so hard it steals my breath. “We’re close.”
Squinting into the light, Kato scans the gallery for Atalanta and her bow. Tension and wariness roll off his big frame. “The archer got me to her bed in about twenty minutes.”
I point to the tunnel we just exited. “She told me to go that way. So I did.”
“And you have the navigational skills of a four-year-old.”
“We’re inside a mountain! It’s pitch-black! And a labyrinth!”
“True,” Kato concedes.
“You didn’t freeze?” I ask.
“Atalanta had Fire Magic. Kept me warm.”
I’ll bet. I drop another armful of thread onto the frosty ground, cut off the excess, and then hold out my wrist for Kato to retie the knot. With the added light, he can see that my skin has been rubbed raw. Frowning, he reaches for my other wrist. When he’s done tying the knot, I unbuckle my leather armor and then strap it to the bag he’s carrying. I have plans for later today, and I don’t want the extra layer between Griffin and me when I see him again.
I start walking, eager to leave the labyrinth at last. “Let’s go before the archer shows up and starts shooting at us. I doubt she’d hit you. Me, I’m not so sure.”
Kato growls from somewhere deep in his throat. “If she comes anywhere near you, I’ll take one of her arrows and stick it through her eye.”
Well, I guess that’s settled, then.
We walk faster and don’t stop again. The closer we get, the longer the journey seems to take. Anticipation keeps me in an anxious, breathless state. The next time the tunnel brightens, my pulse roars, seeming to pound Griffin’s name through my veins.
“Come on!” I cut the knot around my wrist and then sprint down the tunnel, sliding and bumping into the icy walls at every turn. I don’t even feel the impacts, or maybe I just don’t care. “Griffin!” I shout.
After a terrifying moment of silence, Griffin’s deep bellow answers me back. “Cat!”
He’s there! Relief nearly makes me stumble. His voice is still far away. Always too far.
“Cat!” he roars.
“I’m coming!” And I swear to the Gods, the moment we touch I’m going to crawl inside him and never come out. I never want to be apart again. We’ll make love, eat, and sleep. Forget about ruling the world. That means nothing to me. All I want is Griffin.
Tears stream from my eyes as my vision tries to adjust to the increasing light. Sheer joy and relief add to the flow. I round a bend, bounce off the wall, and leave the tinkling of shattered i
cicles in my wake. My shoulder throbs, but I welcome the pain. Enduring it means getting to Griffin that much faster.
I finally see the men moving inward from the mouth of the cave, three large shapes silhouetted against the blinding light of day. We meet somewhere in the middle of that first tunnel, and I throw myself at Griffin, suddenly shaking uncontrollably.
His arms close around me, strong, hard, and almost crushing. Griffin’s inhale shudders, and then a hoarse sound catches in his throat. He exhales my name like he feared he’d never speak it to me again, like he was almost sure he wouldn’t.
I wrap my arms and legs around him so tightly that wild Centaurs couldn’t drag me away. Our lips collide in a frantic tangle of words and breath.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” I can’t stop saying it. Our teeth bump because he’s talking, too.
“Kardia mou. Psihi mou.” One steely arm circles my hips and the other my back. He strides into the tunnel.
My heart filled to bursting, on fire for him, I cling to Griffin, my hands tangled in his hair and my legs locked around his waist. We pass Kato, and Griffin looks away from me only long enough to give his friend a nod.
I grin like an idiot, and Kato winks back.
Low and fierce, Griffin says, “I’m never letting you out of my sight again. That was the longest ten days of my life. I thought—” His voice falters in a way that jolts my heart straight into my throat. Then he forgets about talking and slants his mouth over mine as we round the first bend in the tunnel. There’s nothing sweet or soft about his kiss. It’s fear turned into aggression. Possession. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, claiming every inch of it, and I thrust back, greedy for more.
Finally lifting his mouth from mine, Griffin stops, looks around, and then sets me on a shelf of ice. He settles his hips between my legs, and with my cloak under me and Griffin at my front, I don’t even feel the cold. His chilled hands grip my head as he angles my face back to ravage my mouth again. Soft black whiskers lightly scrape the tip of my nose, my lips, my chin, and a husky moan rises in my throat. I trace the delectable curve of his upper lip with my tongue and then suck hungrily on the fuller bottom one.
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