by Lazu, Sotia
“Who are you?” he asked her again, this time in Modern Greek. Which he apparently spoke now, thanks to whatever Eros did to him.
“Eros. Bringing lovers together since time immemorial,” the god replied with a smug smirk.
Coeus growled at him and lifted the mortal closer to his face. “Not you. Her.”
She met his gaze steadily. “I’m Phoebe.” The sweetest of smiles blossomed on her full lips, but wilted way too soon. “Used to be. But still am, in a way.”
She was his Titaness. The love of his life. Even with this black and lilac—that was the right hue—hair, the woman’s pull on him was irresistible, and if he could trust what he just saw...
“She really is Phoebe, and you may only have moments to claim her and bond with her again, before Kronos attacks,” said a female he hadn’t noticed before. She looked haggard, her wrinkled skin as weathered as her long white robes, but the power buzzing around her marked her as an immortal.
“Why would Kronos attack me?” Coeus asked her, but he was unable to take his eyes off his Phoebe. She looked nothing like she did before, but the way she held herself, shoulders relaxed but chin held high... The arching of her brow as she studied his face... They were so very her.
The crone huffed. “He won’t attack you. He’ll attack life. He’s set on ruling the world and won’t hesitate to destroy and rebuild it to achieve that.”
It sounded like his power-hungry brother, all right. But— “Why should I trust you?”
“Because Atlas, Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Hyperion do, and your other options are worse than making love to your soulmate.”
“Epimetheus is dead,” Coeus roared. “Kronos killed him before he took on Zeus.”
The crone shook her head. “He’s no more dead than you are.”
New-Phoebe squirmed against his grasp, and he gently placed her on the floor. She clasped her head with both hands and cried out.
Had he hurt her?
Coeus focused on shrinking to a size that resembled that of a human. A six-foot-nine human, but still a human. The easy familiarity with which he gathered her in his arms surprised him as much as the way she molded her body to his, yielding to him. As if they’d done it a million times before. Because they had.
“Are you all right?” he whispered against her temple.
She touched her cheek to his chest, like she always did when she was tired or sad or just needed the reminder he was there. “My head... It’s all too much.”
“That’s another thing,” Eros said. “We don’t know how well the human mind can cope with all that info. The rest of them regained their memories gradually, after they became immortal again.”
Phoebe pushed away from Coeus’ embrace and span toward Eros. “What do you mean?”
“Rest of whom?” Coeus asked.
Eros let out a dramatic sigh. “It’s a long story.”
“Not really.” Nereus stood and crossed the room to them. “Rhea wanted to wake up Kronos, so they could procreate again and she could once more give birth to Zeus. The first part of her plan succeeded. We need Titans on our side, to defeat him, because he has terrifying allies. Titans can be awakened from stasis by their soulmates, who’ve been reborn. We don’t have time for you to woo this lovely lady, so Eros helped her remember who the two of you are to each other. Bond with her, and you can join our ranks in the upcoming war. If you don’t—”
“Your powers will take over, and you’ll unravel and destroy the world we’re trying to save.” Eros glared at Nereus. “You know I love telling this story, old man.”
Nereus raised his hand. Would he slap the insolent whelp?
Coeus watched, surprised, as the king of Vythos ruffled Eros’ hair. “I know, boy, but your mouth tends to get you into trouble, and the clock is ticking.”
“He’s supposed to... to make love to me? Now? When we haven’t laid eyes on each other in millennia?” Even as Phoebe sounded about to faint, she skimmed her gaze up his body. One corner of her lips twitched, and for a moment, she looked exactly like the woman he knew and loved. She snuffed out the smile before it was fully formed, and rolled her eyes.
Chaos, the expression was so familiar, it hurt to see it on a stranger’s face.
“He doesn’t even know my name,” she said.
So she wasn’t Phoebe?
“My real name. New name? Who I am now. Nikoleta.” She clutched her head again. “Ow.”
Coeus reached for her, but she shied away from his touch.
His hand trembled. What was up with that?
“And so it begins.” The crone nodded sagely. “Better get to it, Titan. Time’s our enemy.”
When he closed his eyes and focused on the mortal’s heartbeat, there was no doubt in his mind they were connected. She was his Phoebe. But she obviously needed more time to make peace with it.
Did they expect him to bed an unwilling female? To force her to bond her heart to his for eternity? How?
Chapter Three
NIKOLETA’S EYES WERE still brimming with tears, her cheeks wet, but the wave of emotion that had slammed into her chest when she laid eyes on Coeus as a statue had abated. More than that, it felt out of her reach. As if her heart had shielded against it.
She studied his face. The paleness of marble had given way to bronzed skin, and his eyes were as alive as ever.
Had she really spoken to him in Ancient Greek? She hadn’t given the language a moment’s thought since high school.
And was that really the weirdest thing here?
Nereus—she knew the king of Vythos from her first life—mentioned an upcoming war, but one was already raging inside her. The lives she’d lived between Phoebe and now had mercifully melted into the background after the initial shock, but two people living inside her head were one person too many.
She was Nikoleta, beyond a shadow of a doubt. She loved her mom and her cats, still missed her dad after all these years, and spent the summer bartending in Mykonos, to save up for her master’s degree. And the idea of her first time being with a giant man she didn’t know except in some newly discovered memories terrified her even without the to save the world part.
But she did know him, because she was Phoebe, and she wanted nothing more than to climb his body—that incredible, huge, buff body—and let him make her his again, to reestablish their connection.
She remembered what it was like, being anchored to him. Never feeling lonely. Having no doubt about where she belonged. Being utterly loved. Her gaze fell to the loincloth around his waist. She remembered what was hiding underneath that, too. How it felt, stretching her...
The dichotomy of this double existence tore gouges into Nikoleta’s reality and made her head hurt worse. Pounding headaches might not be the worst of it, though.
She turned to Eros. “You said you don’t know how my mind will deal with this. What could happen to me?”
His face was impassive, as he counted out possibilities on his fingers. Thumb. “Blackouts.” Index finger. “Insanity.” Middle. “Aneurysm.” Ring finger. “Death. None of which should have time to affect you, since you’ll either bond with Big Guy”—he wiggled his pinky, eliciting another panties-melting growl from Coeus—“and ascend to your Titaness nature, or you won’t, and we’ll all die within the next couple days.”
Awesome. More things to process, when Phoebe barely clung to her sense of self.
Nikoleta. She was Nikoleta, and she’d remain Nikoleta, even if she regained her powers and immortality.
Wouldn’t she?
What if Phoebe took over and drowned out everything she was now? Fear filled her mouth with a metallic taste. Could her memories, her life, all she loved as Nikoleta be wiped out?
“You’re over-thinking this, child,” the old woman said in a conversational tone.
Nikoleta recoiled. Could the crone read her mind, or was she that obvious?
The woman brushed Nikoleta’s forearm with her fingertips. Though her patchy skin looked dry and
cracked, it felt smooth and youthful, and a sudden sense of calm spread out from the spot she touched. “You and Phoebe aren’t two separate personalities, vying for control. You don’t have parallel memories of the two. Phoebe is your past. Nikoleta is your present. And if you so decide, Coeus can be your future.”
Nikoleta was drawn to him with a deep, primal need. She ached to kiss him, and she knew what he’d taste like. Craved him inside her, filling her. Like before. Like no one ever had, because she was a virgin.
How could her body remember a sensation it hadn’t experienced?
Her heart didn’t care about the answer to that. It ached for her to be close to him, safe in the cage of his arms, but logic slammed a door down, blocking her feelings, not allowing them to take the lead. Nikoleta didn’t have the luxury to allow herself to feel at this point. Feelings got people into messes, and she was already chin-deep in one. She had to think things through. Make sense of them.
Coeus splayed his warm palm on the small of her back, and heat blazed through the thin cotton of her tank top. Despite herself, she leaned into him and raised her gaze to his. He was as handsome as she remembered. More than any living man had a right to be. How could she have considered Eros gorgeous, when this perfect male specimen walked the earth?
But they weren’t on earth; they had to be beneath the sea. Nereus wouldn’t have a throne on the surface, and the pale-gold glow pouring in through the large rounded windows on the walls was neither natural nor artificial. It was magic.
Like Coeus’... skills were. Her cheeks burned, as mental images of him and herself naked, tangled together, flashed through her mind. She’d had illicit thoughts before, touched herself—she was a virgin, not a nun—but hadn’t felt this yearning, this all-consuming need to be taken.
Other memories overlapped those of his taking her to the heights of sexual ecstasy. Her, lying on plush grass, her head on Coeus’ stomach, bouncing with his deep laugh. Their bodies curved around each other, not in lust but with the genuine need to keep touching. His hands, buried in her hair, not holding her in place but caressing, soothing, lulling her to sleep.
“I remember loving you,” she whispered to him. But it was more than a memory. It thrummed in her chest and pulsed in her belly. And lower. “I remember you, loving me.”
Coeus cupped her cheek with his free hand. “I will do so again, if you let me.”
She bit her bottom lip. “Your proximity tugs at my heart, and you feel... right.” Like home. “But it’s so hard to accept—”
“What?” Eros asked. “That souls can be reborn? You were around when humans were created. Souls were picked for them from the ether. Phoebe’s soul returned there once it was freed from the mortal body Zeus trapped it in, and now lives again.” He made it sound so simple.
“Remember when I first told you I loved you?” Coeus asked, as if Eros hadn’t spoken.
She didn’t need to dig far into her new memories. “I didn’t believe you. You said we were meant for each other, but I thought you were just lonely, after Atlas bonded with Pleione. That you were looking for a distraction.” Warmth flooded her belly, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You held my face like you do now, and told me I was your first thought in the morning and your last at night. That seeing me smile was the highlight of your day. That you loved me, and would forever. And then—”
“I kissed you.” He swooped in to do just that, his mouth on hers, his teeth nibbling her bottom lip, his tongue demanding access so it could dance with hers.
His kiss drove away her headache and unlocked a slew of new memories and emotions that had her digging her nails in his bare shoulders. This insane attraction she felt for him was the least of what made them perfect for each other. He could always tune in to her emotions, even before their bond was forged. Always knew what she needed. Was always here for her, until he was forcefully taken away.
If she gave in, let go, could he... fix her? Put the jagged pieces of her soul together?
“My Phoebe,” he rasped as he broke the kiss. His hardness pressed into her stomach, and her nipples strained against the lace of her bra, the scraping of the material adding to her arousal.
If they were alone now, she’d be tearing off her clothes and offering herself to him.
Men only want one thing.
Her mother’s voice should have no room in Nikoleta’s head, but it doused the flames of desire licking at Nikoleta’s skin. She knew there were good men out there—her late father had been one of them—but she’d been raised to believe a woman should say no until she was married.
In college, she’d tried to shake off the sense of shame that came with the thought of a casual sexual encounter, but it was ingrained in her. She didn’t think less of women who enjoyed their sexuality; it was their choice, and she supported it. Premarital sex just wasn’t for her.
“I can’t.” She glided her palms to the bulging muscles of his chest, keeping him at bay as much as steadying herself. Her jacket came undone, from where she’d tied it around her waist, and fell at her feet. She couldn’t reach for it. Her legs had as good a chance of holding her upright unassisted as boiled spaghetti would. Heck, she was so lightheaded, it felt like the floor was moving.
Coeus nuzzled her hair and led her hand to cup his shaft. That thing was huge. “I won’t force you to do anything you don’t wish to,” he said, “but I promise to make your first time good.” He gave her another bone-liquefying grin. “You should remember I kept that promise when you were Phoebe.”
She did remember. He’d been gentle and patient, and deliciously commanding. But could she forget all her reservations and sleep with him?
Hadn’t she before?
Not in this body. She hadn’t been intimate with anyone.
Realization sank in, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment and anger as she stepped out of his reach. “How do you know I’m a virgin?”
Chapter Four
THE RECKLESSNESS WITH which she yielded to him was intoxicating and familiar. Her supple form pressed into his body, and each square centimeter she touched was set alight with desire. But what drove him wild and made it impossibly hard not to claim her right here, on the floor of what must be Nereus’ throne room, were her thoughts. Her mind opened up to him, and instances of the love they shared in the past swarmed his thoughts, carried on a need as visceral as his own.
In her head, she was spread out beneath him, as he sank inside her.
He flared his nostrils at the scent of her arousal. It was intoxicating.
The mental images were wiped out by the same trepidation he’d sensed when she’d touched him as a statue. Was she afraid of him? Didn’t she realize he would die before hurting her? All he wanted was to love her.
As she pushed him and broke the kiss, he tugged on the thought that seemed to suffuse everything else. She wouldn’t give herself to him, because she was untouched.
He tried to soothe her worry, assure her he’d be as gentle as he’d been her first time as Phoebe, but all he got was a mental wall slamming down on their connection.
“How do you know I’m a virgin?” Her glare was one-hundred-percent Phoebe. And the lilac tips looked good on her. But her eyes... They looked like the foggy evening sky. He wanted to spend eternity looking into them. Even if he was being glowered at.
“Why don’t you take this somewhere more private?” Nereus looked as embarrassed as his position allowed. “And soon?”
Coeus followed the king’s gaze to his own hand. It was shaking. Why?
“You’d better not wreck my palace. It’s the only safe place for us now,” Nereus said. “Though it won’t remain that way, unless you proceed with the bonding.”
Coeus wanted Phoe—Nikoleta with every fiber of his being, but he wasn’t a monkey, to perform on demand. And her hard stare didn’t scream take me.
“We’re going nowhere, until he tells me how he knew,” she told Nereus, before turning to Coeus. “And thanks for sharing w
ith the class, by the way.”
Right. There were others here too. He held her gaze. “Maybe we should go someplace else. Talk. Just the two of us.”
The crone scrunched her nose, not that it was easily discernible on her wrinkled face. “Too late. It’s started,” she said.
The gilded double doors of the room swung open so hard, they slammed against the walls, and an armored male sprinted inside. He headed for the empty throne, stopped in his tracks, and looked around. Spotting Nereus, he switched direction and hurried to them.
He gave the king a clumsy bow. “My liege, forgive the intrusion, but the dolphins reported a tsunami in the Mediterranean Sea, and we received news of an earthquake centered on Mount Olympus.”
“He’s digging his way up. Won’t take long,” the crone mused.
“Who?” Nikoleta’s eyes said she knew the answer to that, as did Coeus. Kronos.
Nereus raised the horn that hung from a string around his neck, and blew on it. No sound reached Coeus’ ears, but Nereus said, “My generals are on their way. We have to talk to the rest of the Titans. Make sure they clear the area before he’s free. Eros, can you get to them? Tell Hyperion to bring Christina with him. Palaemon will want to know she’s safe.” He turned to the crone. “Can you see anything, Circe?”
Circe. A powerful witch, from what Eros had shown Coeus.
Speaking of the god— Eros meticulously refrained from meeting Circe’s gaze, though she looked straight at him as she shook her head.
Circe’s form shimmered, until a young brunette with dark-blue eyes stood in her place. “There are too many variables, for me to foretell the outcome. It’s war. All I know is that this place—we—are the world’s only chance of survival.”
Coeus instinctively moved to put his body between Nikoleta and the rest of them. “What can I do?”
Circe’s look was withering. “You cannot fight on our side unless you’re stable, or being near your brothers will expedite your unraveling.”
He couldn’t exactly bond with Nikoleta on the spot. “They should be able to beat Kronos without me.” It hurt to say. He shouldn’t sit out his brothers’ battle.
