BOUND

by Elisabeth Naughton

  Demetrius’s grip tightened on Nick’s shirt. And he leaned so close, Nick could feel the darkness radiating from him too. “Give me one reason not to beat the fucking life out of you.”

  Footsteps pounded close, and voices echoed through the tunnels. Kellen and the others who’d been checking out the cave-in tore into the room. Nick waved them off. “Don’t touch him. He’s mine.” Then to Demetrius, “You think you can take me? Try it.”

  “Oh for gods’ sake.” Isadora’s voice bounced off rock and echoed in the air. “You’re both complete morons if you think this is helping. Kill each other for all I care. I’ve had it. You”—she tipped her chin toward Nick—“with your I don’t give a shit attitude, and you”—she turned her fiery gaze upon Demetrius—“thinking you own me? No one gives me away.“ She threw up her hands. “I’m done. I’m done with both of you.”

  She turned for the tunnel that led back to the lowest level of the castle. For the first time, Nick realized Isadora’s sister, Callia, was standing near the door to the entrance of the colony. “Come on. Let’s go find Titus before it’s too late.”

  “He’s upstairs, in one of the suites.”

  “Thank the Fates we don’t have to go searching for him,” Isadora muttered. “The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can get the hell out of here. I’m suddenly sick of the view.”

  Footsteps echoed and slowly faded. Silence descended, settling in the tense air. The only sound was the thump of Nick’s heartbeat roaring in his ears. He waited, expecting Demetrius to haul off and plow his fist into his jaw again, but the blow never came. Instead, Demetrius let go and stepped back. Then his face paled, and worry crept into his dark, usually guarded eyes.

  “Skata.” Demetrius scrubbed a hand through his hair.

  And standing there, watching, Nick had a memory flash. Of the way his brother had looked strung up in the Council’s chamber after Demetrius and Isadora had come back from that island. How lost he’d looked then. How Isadora had been the only one to believe in him. How she’d convinced her father to abdicate the throne to her, stepped in, told the Council to go to hell and stopped his execution.

  What they had was stronger than the soul mate bond. It was the kind of connection that defined you, that made you who you were. The one thing in the world you’d sacrifice, knowing you’d never be whole again, all to keep the other safe.

  “You love her.”

  Demetrius sucked in a breath.

  “No,” Nick clarified. “I mean, you really love her.”

  “Don’t fucking mock me.”

  Nick wasn’t. At least, he wasn’t trying to. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He didn’t care that his men could still be listening. That the private life he worked so hard to keep private from those he protected was slowly drifting away. He’d known Isadora felt something for his brother, but all this time he’d assumed it was the soul mate bond keeping them together. He’d thought that his own bond to her was just as strong. Now…

  Now he knew it wasn’t even close. He may want Isadora. He may never be able to stop the soul mate draw to her. But she didn’t love him. And she never would.

  “Go to her.”

  Demetrius closed his eyes. “She doesn’t want me, you idiot. Didn’t you hear her?”

  “Yeah, she does.” Nick swallowed the lump in his throat. “She’s just pissed, and with good reason. You were a dick.”

  “Now you’re telling me to stay with her? Skata, you’re the one who said she’d be safer here with you.”

  “I’m an asshole. What the hell do I know?” When Demetrius rubbed a hand over his eyes, Nick found himself with a choice. To go after what he wanted, or to do what was right. And shit, though he wanted nothing more than to be a selfish prick, something inside wouldn’t let him.

  “She loves you, you moron. Even I can see that. Are you really dumb enough to let her get away?”

  Demetrius stared at the cave wall. Defeat rippled across his features. “You’re right about the Council. They’ll move on her as soon as they think they can.”

  “So don’t let them. You’ve got the Argonauts on your side. Use them. If you and those girly men you hang around with can protect a whole realm, you can figure out a way to protect her.”

  Demetrius turned to look at him. “Why the change of heart? We both know you want her too.”

  Nick’s skin prickled. He could lie, or…he could be honest with…himself. “I thought there was a chance she might one day…want…to be with me. But I can see now that’s never going to happen, thanks to you.”

  Darkness filled Demetrius’s eyes. “She deserves better.”

  “Than both of us?” Nick huffed. “I’m not arguing with you there. But for whatever reason, she wants you. And no matter what I do, I’m never going to be you. No one is ever going to be you.”

  Their eyes held. And in the silence between them, Nick’s chest pinched. He was losing her again. Which was an absurd thought, considering she’d never really been his. But that didn’t make the hurt any less. In fact, if possible, he was pretty sure that made it a thousand times harder to take. To see your future standing in front of you and not be able to reach for it… That was the definition of true misery.

  “Go to her,” Nick said before he could change his mind.

  Indecision brewed in Demetrius’s eyes, then was slowly replace with hope. He stepped toward the tunnel that ran back to the colony, but stopped and turned back. “What about you?”

  Nick tucked a hand in his pocket. Tried for his I-don’t-fucking-care attitude. Knew it came off weak and pathetic. “I’m not soul mate material.”

  Demetrius stared at him. Opened his mouth to say something. Closed it.

  With one last nod, he headed down the dark tunnel.

  Alone, Nick turned to survey the barren room. Kellen and the others had left somewhere in the middle of the conversation, which was the only plus Nick could see. Everything else—his future, his purpose, his reason for getting up in the freaking morning—was bleak. What the hell did he have to look forward to now that he knew for sure he’d never have his soul mate?

  He didn’t know. He only knew that he couldn’t stay here. He needed out.

  * * *

  Titus rolled toward Natasa in the early morning light. She lay softly sleeping on her stomach, her back rising and falling with her gentle breaths, her red hair fanned out around her on the pillow.

  His heart contracted. He slid his leg over hers and tugged her into the curve of his body, not wanting to let go of her. She made the softest mewling sound but didn’t wake.

  Arousal speared through his groin. Though he wanted nothing more than to push her legs apart, lift her hips, and slide inside her from behind, he decided letting her sleep was the more heroic thing to do, especially since only a few hours ago, he’d been worried that fever was going to burn her alive.

  He ran his hand down her smooth back, loving the texture of her flesh beneath his hand. The sheet fell loosely at her hips. In the light of dawn, her skin was luminescent and no longer hot to the touch, only slightly warmer than his.

  Their conversation from earlier ran through his mind. He brushed her hair aside and studied the triangle on her neck. Prometheus’s daughter. What kind of sick son of a bitch gifted this kind of curse to his child? The ramifications of what he’d discovered trickled through him. It was going to consume her if they didn’t find the god before it was too late. And what it would unleash…

  He squeezed his eyes tight. Duty and desire warred inside him. He couldn’t abandon her, but every instinct he had as an Argonaut fought against his own personal wants.

  A knock sounded at the door. He lifted his head and looked that way. Quietly, a voice—Callia’s voice—called, “Titus? Are you in there? I need to talk to you.”

  Shit. What the hell was Callia doing here? And how did she know he was here?

  Fucking Nick…

  He looked back down at Natasa. She hadn’t even stirred at the knock. She
was obviously more exhausted from the last few days than she’d let on.

  Worry rippled through him, but he tugged up the sheet and pulled her hair back over her neck, covering the mark. Quietly, he climbed out of bed, pulled on his pants, then crossed the floor and gently cracked the door open.

  Relief washed over Callia’s features. “There you are. Everyone’s been looking for you.”

  He shifted, making sure she couldn’t see into the room. One glance into the hall told him she was alone. “What are you doing here?”

  “Helping you.” “I came with Isadora. She needs to speak with you.”

  Titus went on instant alert.

  “Don’t worry. The Argonauts aren’t with us.”

  He searched her mind and discovered she wasn’t lying. She couldn’t hide her thoughts from him the way Zander could.

  Nodding, Titus slipped out the door and closed it tightly behind him. His instincts screamed keeping Natasa out of whatever the queen was up to was his only move. “Lead the way.”

  Halfway down the hall, he realized his feet were bare, his hair wasn’t tied back, that he hadn’t shaved and that he wasn’t even wearing a shirt. Not exactly an acceptable way to meet the queen, but he didn’t give a rip. His mind was ten steps ahead, planning how they’d get out of the colony and where they’d go next.

  The hallway opened to a great living room, flanked by an enormous fireplace and arched windows that looked out at the blue-green lake. Morning sunlight glistened off its surface like a thousand sparkling diamonds, but it wasn’t the view that stopped Titus dead in his tracks. It was the queen.

  And Theron, and Zander, and Phin, and Cerek. All staring his way as if he’d sprouted horns.

  “Shit,” Callia thought. “When did they get here?”

  “Sorry.” The queen cringed. “They just arrived.”

  “Skata,” Phineus muttered, moving forward. “Where the hell have you been, you mad fuck? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. Ever hear of your Argos medallion? That’s why we wear them, numbnuts.”

  Titus held up his hands to block Phin from touching him and stepped to the side. Phineus pulled up short, staring at him in question.

  Sweat broke out on Titus’s forehead. He was getting way too used to Natasa’s touch. It was messing with his reaction time. “What are you all doing here? I was going to contact you later.”

  Yeah, right. It sounded good, at least.

  Theron’s brow dropped low. “Where’s the girl?”

  There was no friendliness in that tone. It was straight up, leader of the Argonauts business-cold. Titus’s back tightened. “Sleeping.”

  “Where?”

  “In a bed.” Theron and Zander exchanged glances, but whatever they were thinking, they kept closely guarded. Titus’s anxiety jumped to a higher frequency. “She’s not working for Zagreus and Hades like you thought. She’s not a threat.”

  “Oh, yeah, she is.”

  The one thought got through, but Titus couldn’t figure out from whom it had come from.

  Theron pushed off the arm of the sofa he’d been leaning against and unfolded his arms. “T, she’s not what you think.”

  Fuck that. They didn’t know a thing about her. “She’s—”

  “She’s Prometheus’s out.” The queen stepped forward, her arms crossed over her bulging belly, her expression hard and serious.

  Footsteps echoed from the hall. Demetrius moved into the room, his gaze locking on Isadora.

  Isadora glanced his way, but her expression hardened, then refocused on Titus. “We’re pretty sure she’s the unquenchable fire ancient texts wrote about eons ago. The end of all things, should Prometheus never be set free. Lena told Callia about Natasa’s erratic temperature. We know about the fire in the redwoods and the charred Amazon city. If she is this unquenchable fire, then she has to be stopped before whatever is inside her burns free.”

  Titus’s jaw flexed. “She’s not evil.”

  He wasn’t turning her over to them so they could lock her in another freaking cage. They didn’t understand what she…

  He looked from face to face. They were all blocking his ability to read their minds. Which meant only one thing.

  They weren’t just talking about locking her away. They were talking about killing her.

  “No.” He shook his head. “Not happening. Don’t even fucking think about it.”

  “Titus,” Isadora said carefully. “No decisions have been made, yet. But we have to consider all possibilities. This is bigger than all of us. This is the fate of the world. You can’t turn your back on that.”

  Yeah, he could. He considered telling them the rest—that she was the fire element—but knew that wouldn’t save her life, at least not a life she wanted to live. Being caged was no sort of life, and he wasn’t condemning her to that again.

  Tension surged in the room.

  “Be sensible, man,” Phineus muttered. “She’s just a girl.”

  A girl who meant more to Titus than anything else ever had, save his order. He sent a scathing look Phin’s way, then glanced from face to face again. Pleading with his eyes, he finally said the only thing he could. “She’s not evil.”

  Theron’s stare darkened. “You’re about to make a choice that can’t be changed, Guardian. Be sure it’s the right one.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Silence echoed through the room. Titus’s pulse pounded hard. He stared Theron down. “There is no choice.”

  Theron’s jaw clenched. He looked toward the queen. Unspoken words passed between them. To Zander, he said, “Go get her.”

  Zander pushed away from the wall. Titus scrambled to block his path. “Don’t, Z.”

  Zander’s expression softened. “Come on, T. You know I won’t hurt her.”

  Titus believed that, but it was Theron he didn’t trust. The leader of the Argonauts was all business unless it came to his soul mate. If the roles were reversed, if it were Casey they were talking about, this wouldn’t even be a question. “You’re not touching her.”

  Isadora turned to her sister. “Give me the Orb.”

  Callia pulled the Orb of Krónos from a bag slung over her shoulder and resting against her hip. The circular-shaped disk caught the light shining down from the ornate chandelier. It was divided into four chambers, two of which were filled with the elements they’d already found: air and earth. The other two—directly opposite each other—were empty. The stamp of Krónos, the king of the elder gods and the bitch of a god the Argonauts were trying to keep locked in the Underworld, shone brightly in the very center.

  They’d risked bringing the Orb to the human realm? Something else was going on here. Titus’s gaze flicked past Zander toward the queen, then to Theron. “What the hell is this about?”

  Isadora held the Orb out to him. “Just hold it. See if anything comes to you.”

  Comes to him? What the hell were they smoking?

  “Take it, Titus,” Theron said. “We know about the witch’s curse. You can either cooperate or we can knock you on your ass and make you hold it.”

  Sweat spread down Titus’s spine, and his pulse roared. They knew about the curse. He looked warily at the Orb. They were playing some kind of game. Trying to distract him so they could go after Natasa. So they could—

  “Stupid son of a bitch.” Zander grasped Titus’s wrist in one hand, grabbed the Orb from the queen with the other, and slapped it into Titus’s palm.

  Emotions flowed from Zander into Titus—anticipation, fear, anxiety—followed by a shot of gut-wrenching pain that stole Titus’s breath and sent him doubling over. But there was something else. A low buzz echoed in his ears—the same one he always heard when he was near the Orb—and it was growing stronger. Muffled words, ancient voices, sounds he couldn’t place bombarded him.

  One voice cut through all the rest.

  “Titus. Oh gods…what did you do to him?”

  Natasa’s voice.

  Heat spread through Titus’s body. He ne
eded to see her face and tried to turn and look, but the pain intensified, followed by a tingling in his fingers that grew stronger, then rocketed into his arm and shoulder and finally shot straight to his brain.

  He gasped. Synapses fired. Images flashed behind his eyes. An electrical current arced through every cell and exploded in a burst of white-hot fire.

  “He’s seizing!”

  “Titus!”

  Sound dissipated. His brain felt like it was on overload, like it might explode. The flood of information didn’t stop.

  Then everything came to a screeching halt. Sound slowly returned. The draw and push of air in his lungs. His rapid-fire pulse. He blinked several times. And stared up into Natasa’s worried face. Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear her voice. Heat seeped into his skin—her heat—warming him from the outside in. And those where her fingers against his arms, his face, turning him to look at her.

  He was lying on the hardwood floor. Behind her head, the fuzzy outline of a chandelier hanging high above came into view. When had he lain down? He didn’t remember hitting the ground. Didn’t remember anything but holding the Orb and—

  Holy skata.

  His eyes grew wide. Muffled words echoed to his ears, grew clearer. Familiar voices, not of ancient heroes but of his kin.

  “Titus?” Natasa cradled his face in her hands. “Talk to me.”

  “No, don’t touch him,” Callia said somewhere close. “Just let her.”

  “Fuck the gods.” Demetrius. That was Demetrius’s voice, but Titus couldn’t see the guardian. All he could see was Natasa. Her emerald-green eyes, her red hair like a halo of fire around her face, her sweet, tempting lips he knew were so wickedly soft.

  “Do you think it worked?” someone said.

  “We’ll see,” someone else answered.

  “He can’t read her, right?” Theron. That was Theron talking about him like he wasn’t in the damn room. Talking about Titus’s soul mate like she was a thing, not a living, breathing person.

  Anger raged through his blood. He struggled to sit up. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not to the gods and not to the Argonauts. He knew now how to find her father. Clarity and knowledge had spread from the Orb into him like they’d hoped, but he wasn’t sharing an ounce of it with them.