Air's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 3)

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Air's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 3) Page 4

by Rachael Slate


  “Well, I didn’t bloody know that then, eh?” he snapped. “I had just watched my family massacred, the blood of hundreds flowing like a river across the valleys, staining them crimson. My siblings made me flee to Mount Ida, but after Zeus blessed me, I had to try to save someone. You don’t want to know what happened to the other nymphs.” Bile rose in his throat at the blurring memories, smeared by the tears misting in his eyes. Sniffling, he blinked them away and lowered his head in defeat.

  “Oh, Lycus.” Guilt speared into Airla’s heart. She rose and padded to his side, kneeling. “Forgive me. It’s wrong of me to blame you for the horrid actions of those monsters.” Tentatively, she set her hand on his arm, and they both flinched at the jolt sparking between them. “In truth, you provided us with more time in this realm, and we are grateful. Our lives have not been entirely terrible.”

  He snorted, as disbelieving of her words as she was.

  She pressed her lips tightly together against a smile and trailed her fingers along his arm, slipping inside the tear in his sleeve. His skin was smooth and hard, warm enough to sear her fingertips. She skimmed them upward, to where the bonding mark pressed ever so slightly against them. Right beneath his skin, the thin ropy band was invisible to her eye, for now.

  “How do centaurs bond?” It was different for every species, and the giants only knew about their own matings.

  Lycus cast her a sideways glance, yearnings stirring in his pale eyes. “Through a ceremony.” He studied her face for a moment, before peering once more at the fire. What passed through his mind?

  She bit her lip in indecision. Why wouldn’t he ask her? Even more, why hadn’t he claimed her yet? She didn’t sense any shyness from him, so there must be another reason.

  Airla shifted forward, rising and lowering herself to straddle his lap. Her nymph powers told her how intense his arousal was, and well, no missing the hardness rising to greet her. She wrapped her arms about his neck and settled against him, humming. He felt so good, even just to be close to.

  “What are you doing?” the words grated from deep in his throat.

  “Making up for lost time,” she chimed, rocking against him.

  He groaned, shooting out his hands to grab her bottom. Swallowing thickly, he crushed the fabric of her skirt in his fists.

  “I want you to have me, Lycus, to take whatever you need.” She dipped one hand between them, beneath the waist of his breeches, until her fingers closed around his smooth, rigid fullness. His panting grew labored and shallow, almost painful.

  She edged down his body, tugging his breeches along with her, baring him. His shaft popped free, jutting so thickly and proudly from his body. As magnificent and hard as the rest of him. The giants always had to adapt themselves to fit the nymphs. No need for adjustment here. Lycus’s size was perfectly decadent. His hands gripped the boulder on either side of him while he hissed in a breath. She palmed his heavy weight in her hands, sliding them across his firm flesh, and then wrapped her lips about him, drawing him deep into her mouth.

  His hips bucked and jerked while she pleasured him, coaxing such fierce snarls from his lips and rumbles from his chest, reminding her of how much of a beast he’d become.

  His masculine spice enveloped her, and she thirsted for all of him. She teased his tip with her tongue, slashing it across his slit until the salty taste of him burst inside her mouth and a roar cascaded across the cavern. He shoved himself deep inside her mouth, his thickness throbbing until the last pulses drained from him.

  She lapped up every succulent drop, the ecstasy of him spiraling through to her core and making her cry out with her own release. The crushing waves commanded her body and she screamed against him, her hands clutching for support. He linked his fingers through hers and she held on, struggling to survive this unbearable bliss.

  It was so much more than she’d ever had, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

  As she gasped for air and her muscles finally calmed, she gulped in shuddering breaths. Sweet gods, but Lycus had spoken truth.

  She just might drown in the sea of his lust.

  His disobedient cock was already hard again. Lycus grimaced. At himself, at his loss of control. Well, at least he hadn’t claimed her. Yet. How long could he fight against something the Fates had ordained? The sweet nymph at his feet licked his seed from her lips, peering up at him with dazed wonderment and flushed cheeks, as though anticipating even more.

  Oh, aye, he wanted more, too.

  Only not in the way she presumed.

  Her feminine licks and mewls wouldn’t work on him again. He’d muster greater strength, somehow.

  He shifted forward, nudging her backward, while he tugged up his breeches and rose above her. Lycus curled his finger under her chin and tipped her face to his. “Did you fancy that, nymph?”

  “You know I did. So did you.”

  Her lips glistened, so pink. He bent and snared a kiss, grunting at the taste of himself in his mate’s mouth. “Well, enjoy those drops, love, because this won’t happen again.”

  “What? Why?” She pulled back, scrunching her lovely pixie nose.

  “Because my seed belongs to my mate and her alone. Just as I won’t share myself with anyone, so I do expect as much from her. Until you can make me those vows, nymph, I’m not your mate, either.”

  He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead and left her gaping after him, as he retreated into the snowy world outside. Once out of her view, he braced a hand on the rock of the mountainside and wheezed in several deep inhalations. A century, he’d waited for that experience, and it had been like nothing he could have envisioned. Yet something about it had disappointed him as well. Which only strengthened his resolve. He would have his mate, or nothing at all.

  Lycus squinted at the sun, then cast his gaze toward the black fortress. Airla had implied the giants were trapped here, too. He had to learn why. It couldn’t be a coincidence that two races would find themselves cursed together in such a vast expanse.

  First, he’d have to gain entry to the castle without the King chopping off his head. Lycus flinched at the recollection of fighting—and biting—the King. Probably not the best first introduction. Hopefully, this second one would go better.

  Straightening, he marched toward the castle. Two statuesque guards loomed before him, as solid and menacing as if they’d been etched into the side of the castle. At his approach, they swung open the foreboding doors. Eyeing the guards, he strode through. They didn’t stop him, nor did anyone try to seize him. The doors slammed shut behind him, echoing into the empty hall. So much less inviting than it had been when he’d stolen inside this place. As he explored, his breath swirled about his lips in icy wisps. Though he didn’t suffer from the cold, what about the giants? Before him, a spiraling staircase split in twain, each side descending one opposing wall. A black crystal chandelier hung from the peak of the chamber, but neither it nor the torches on the walls were lit.

  Frowning, he prowled through the enormous hallway to the right, toward the faintest flicker of warmth.

  “Been expecting you,” a voice rumbled from one massive armchair perpendicular to the hearth. “Come. Join me.” An arm as thick as a tree trunk swept toward another armchair.

  Lycus complied, hopping onto the large chair. The seat was big enough to accommodate three of him. He tilted his head and studied the giant King. The last time they’d met, he hadn’t concerned himself with a proper introduction. “I must apologize for our previous meeting. My actions were barbaric and unwarranted.” He slanted his gaze toward the King’s shoulder, but nothing revealed a hint of injury.

  The King rolled his shoulder. “No harm done. I well grasp your intentions.” He gave a quick jerk of his head toward Lycus’s arm.

  How in Hades did the giant guess?

  “My dear brother was mated, too, once.” A wistful cloud crossed the King’s somber expression. “That was long ago.”

  “When?” Now was his chance to learn the truth. />
  “Many moons before we were cursed to this place.”

  “Cursed?” The same word Airla used, yet who else had the power to damn an entire race?

  The King bowed his head, curled locks falling across his forehead. “By the sun god. My brother’s mate, Celaeno, was one of the Harpies. In his voracity, Apollo coveted her. When she wouldn’t have him, he murdered her. Then he cursed my people to remain forever in this place, where the sun sets only once a year, so his ever-watchful eye can ensure the eternity of our suffering.”

  “How…horrible.” Lycus sank against the chair, the sadness in the King’s tone twisting through his gut. To lose one’s mate was the worst torment possible.

  “Why would he keep you prisoner?”

  “He couldn’t kill us without losing the support of our father, Boreas, god of the north wind. Yet because we refuse to join him, nor can he trust us not to side with his enemies.”

  “So he keeps you here, instead.” Lycus huffed.

  “Aye. Apollo watches everything that moves beneath the sun, but when the sun is set, he cannot see what happens. He is blind.” A flicker of defiance passed across the King’s features. He was planning something.

  “Do you intend to escape?”

  “Now, that would be impossible.” A quirk settled on the giant’s lips as he straightened and leaned back.

  The lack of illumination. No beams of sunlight cascading through the darkness. Everything made sense. Lycus narrowed his eyes, liking this male more than he ever envisioned he would. “Indeed, it would be.”

  Chapter 6

  Lycus returned to the nymph cave, only to find it empty. Where in the bloody hell were those nymphs? He strode through the caverns, one by one, but no one greeted him. Just as he was about to head back to the giants’ fortress, feminine shrieking crossed his ears, far into the distance.

  Racing, he flashed through the air, toward the nymphs’ cries, panic flooding him. By the gods, what was wrong? Landing hard, he whipped up his head and scanned around. There. A grouping of cloaked females cascaded down the mountainside on sleds?

  Their shrieks were of laughter. High-pitched bubbling chimes and squeals erupted as they raced down the snowy hills on wooden sleds. In their midst, was Airla.

  Relief and frustration warred through him. A part of him had yearned to rush to her aid, to prove that, as her mate, he was her protector.

  She certainly didn’t require protection from the mountainside. Shrugging, he decided to join them. Lycus stomped through the snow, up the hill, toward Airla. As he approached, she grabbed her sled and, instead of waiting for him, zoomed down the hill, whooshing right past him. A spray of snow blasted straight into his face and her tinkling laughter echoed from below.

  “Saucy nymph!” he snarled, lunging after her. “I’ll have retribution for that!”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “Have to catch me first.” Facing forward once more, she steered her sled harder, veering away from him.

  Lycus shifted into his wolf form and loped down the embankment. She was fast, but his wolf was far swifter. Within seconds, he’d caught up to her, bounding alongside her sled. She cast him a glower and focused fiercely upon the bottom of the hill. Ah, so it was a race. Tearing his gaze from her, he concentrated on pounding his paws across the surface of the snow, harder, faster.

  Finally, they neared, and her sled inched ahead of him. Damn, no. Growling, he leapt into the air, performing the morphos into his human form as he soared above her, and then tackled Airla to the ground. Gently, he swung her around in his arms, so he took the brunt of the landing, and together they tumbled, rolling one on top of the other, until at last they came to a halt at the base.

  Airla’s heaving exhalations rushed across his face, her delicate form straddling him. She peered at him, her cheeks flushed a rosy hue and her eyes bright with excitement.

  His panting stilled while he devoured her beauty.

  “You cheated,” she rasped, wheezing for air.

  “You were the one with the sled.” He cocked one brow, his lips quirking.

  “That’s how it’s supposed to be done, centaur.”

  “Oh, aye? Well, apparently I haven’t been here long enough to learn your secrets. When I heard your shrieks, I feared something had happened to you nymphs. Now, I see you’re quite well.” He dropped his perusal across her body, the full curves of her bosom rising and falling so enticingly. “Very well indeed.”

  Her lips parted, the slender, creamy column of her throat flexing. Such a beguiling female she was. She could make even breathing bewitching to him.

  “Well, we have to do something with our days, other than just survive.” Extending her hand, she stroked her fingers across his forehead, smoothing his furrowed brow. “Otherwise, we might go mad.”

  Sparks shot through him from their contact, and he swallowed hard, uttering gruffly, “What else do you nymphs engage in for amusement?”

  She edged forward, close enough for him to snare her lips, if he so chose. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

  Airla’s words might have come out cool and assured, but inside, her heart pounded wildly within her chest, ramming against her ribs. Astride Lycus, it was impossible to ignore the bursts of his desires, the hardness of his body beneath hers.

  If she shifted lower, not even her thick clothes would conceal his rigidness.

  “Do you wish to try it again?” Clearing her throat, she straightened and shuffled off him, rising to seize her sled. “On one of these?”

  “Well,” the corners of his eyes crinkled in mischief, “you’d have to make it worth my efforts.”

  She tilted her head at him. “How so?”

  “If I beat you—in a fair race—I demand a prize.”

  “Hmm.” She tapped one finger against her lips. “What prize would that be?”

  With predatory agility, he rose and placed his hands on her sled, leaning in close. “A kiss.”

  Her lips twitched. Predictable male. “Fine, but when I win,” she ignored the growl deep in his throat, “I have something far better in mind.” She pointed into the distance, toward a vast, snow-covered field. “Beneath that meadow lies a pond. My sisters and I love to skate on it, but the last storm covered it. I would have you clear the snow.”

  He chuckled. “Deal.” Lycus hefted her sled onto his left shoulder and offered her his right hand. She pursed her lips before accepting his aid to ascend the hillside. Together, they climbed, puffing at the exertion of scaling through the deep snow. Midway, she released his hand and climb ahead of him over a particularly steep section. His hand pushed up against her bottom, and he grunted, “Just helping.”

  She scoffed and tossed her head.

  Finally, they reached the top and Lycus set down her sled. He chose another from a pile stacked near the top and plopped his beside hers. They each mounted their own sleds and he cast her a devious grin. “Ready?”

  “Oh, I’ve been ready for a very long time.” She shoved off, her sled soaring down the slope.

  Lycus howled as he raced beside her, their sleds nearly matching pace, until his heavier weight gave him the advantage, and he edged forward.

  Damn him.

  She paddled through the snow on either side, gaining on him once more, but it wasn’t enough. By the time she skidded to a halt at the bottom, he was already standing, propped against his upright sled, smirking at her.

  “I believe you owe me a kiss, nymph.”

  “Oh, do I?” she intoned, nimbly rising to her feet. “That’s not what we agreed upon, centaur.”

  “What do you mean?” His pale pools narrowed, the grin wiped from his handsome features.

  “You won a kiss, Lycus,” she glided to his side and murmured, “but I never said it was from me.” She sauntered from him, sashaying her hips.

  “Bloody nymph!” Lycus grated behind her, making laughter bubble on her lips.

  She couldn’t resist one more jab. A hand on her hip, she whirled around. “The giant
s always welcome fine company, if you’re so inclined, Ly—”

  He no longer appeared irritated. Instead, he’d frozen, his lips slightly parted and a frantic look in his wide eyes. “Airla, duck!”

  Before she had the chance, he launched to her side and tackled her to the ground, flattening her against the cold, hard-packed snow. She opened her mouth to question him, but a screech shattered the air above them, followed by a blast of icy wind.

  Oh gods, no. Not one of them.

  The creature’s razor talons slashed across his back but, thankfully, didn’t find purchase. Lycus ground his jaw against the searing pain, and rolled to his side, uncovering Airla long enough to catch a glimpse of the massive winged beast circle back for a second attack.

  He lunged to cover Airla again, but she wiggled out from beneath him, yanked on his hand, and hauled him toward the mountainside cliffs.

  Half-dragging his feet as he stumbled forward but kept his attention on the creature encroaching on them, he followed her lead. “What are you doing?”

  “Surviving,” she snapped, wrenching harder on his hand. “Don’t look back. You’re slowing us down. Just follow me. Trust me.”

  If not for the imminent danger, he might have jolted at the demand for her trust. Shaking himself, he did as she commanded and they neared the rocky wall. “Airla, there’s no path through.”

  “Yes, there is.” She clasped his hand ever tighter and he squeezed his eyes shut at the impending contact with solid rock.

  Another blood-boiling shriek echoed from above, but no piercing talons snatched him.

  No cliff smacked into him, either.

  Airla jerked to a stop and Lycus teetered on his feet before peeling open his eyes and glancing about. “What in Hades…”

  Spinning around, he witnessed the snowy field they’d just crossed. Their rushed footprints glittered in the snow. The beast was there, too, landed in the meadow. “What is that?”

  It resembled a bird, but not a bird. Nay. A gilded, feathered crest adorned its eagle-esque head, but its body was beast-like—a lion. A dashing vest of feathers draped across its upper body and gigantic wings spread from the creature’s back. Those cuts on Lycus’s back hadn’t been made by talons, but rather claws. Lethal, dagger-sharp lion’s claws.

 

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