Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4)

by Rachael Slate

  Oh, yes. The prisoner would suffer his vengeance.

  And so would she.

  ***

  Oreius obeyed Nysa’s demands, mostly because he couldn’t think clearly on his own, and the truth was, he’d been about to tear a man limb from limb.

  Without even bothering to question his intents or ensure his guilt first.

  He gaped down at his hands, trembling with raw fury. Never had he experienced such lack of control.

  The lyssa was settling in.

  Consuming him and threatening to squeeze every last ounce of sanity from his mind.

  They trekked to North Gate, where he thrust the fiend into the hands of his most trusted guards. “Lock him up. No one other than myself is permitted near his cell.”

  The two males seized the prisoner and led him away.

  Oreius heaved in a deep breath, combing his hair from his face. A shudder rippled through his body. Nysa stood behind him, but he wasn’t certain he dared to face her. Would she flee from the wildness that must be in his eyes?

  This morning, she’d believed him bonded to Sarra. How could he convince her that wasn’t the truth?

  “Oreius?” Gentle footsteps padded forward and a warm hand pressed onto his arm. “Thank you.”

  “For what?” He scoffed, his tail flicking. “You saved yourself, lass. I arrived too late and nearly tore your prisoner apart. Who is he? Do you know him? I didn’t even ask.”

  “Deimos.” She shuddered, releasing his arm.

  He spun around, frowning at the tremble in her lip. “What has he done to you? Has he—” Gods, he hadn’t even allowed himself to consider the possibility…

  “No.” She gave a forceful shake of her head. “He has never harmed me. Deimos is the one who trapped me inside my well. I was so foolish.” She squeezed her eyes, a squeak whimpering in her throat. “I thought he’d never find me.”

  “Trapped you? Oh, Nysa. Why did you not tell me?” The very notion that someone had dared to imprison his mate caused his horse to stomp in righteous fury.

  “For fifty years he has held me prisoner, abusing the healing powers of my waters.” She curled one fist. “When you spilled my waters, in fact, you freed me. I foolishly believed he would never know, would never be able to harm me. That I was free at last.”

  He crushed her in his embrace, nuzzling against her lush softness. “He will never hurt you again; I vow it.”

  Stiffening, she pulled back. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “He’s a prisoner of war, caught trespassing on the King’s lands. I’ll hand him to my father. Cheiron will know what to do.”

  “Good.” She nodded. “I can’t wish him harmed, but he cannot be allowed to hurt others again. We must determine what he has done with my waters.”

  “Aye, we will.” He traced one fingertip down her cheek. The strain appeared to have drained from her, but it only built inside him. Being near her drove his horse closer to madness. “Come, we must talk.” He linked his fingers with hers and led her up the winding stairs to his chamber. Once inside, he closed and locked the door. No one would disturb them.

  He refused to let her slip away without dropping to his knees and pleading before her. “Sweetling.” He sank to his knees, grasping her hand. She twisted toward him, those sparkling blue depths puzzled.

  Clearing his throat, he seized the courage to make his declaration. Finding one’s mate and asking her to be his was a pivotal moment for any centaur. If she refused the bonding, if she refused him, the lyssa would consume him.

  And so then would death.

  “The reversal of the spell did succeed.”

  Her brows pinched together. “I saw how ill you became. That makes no sense.”

  “Ill, yes, but not from my bonding to Sarra.” His heart raced, thumping inside his chest. “From my bonding…to you.”

  Her breath hitched. “You jest.”

  “No, Sapphira, I wouldn’t jest of such a thing. No centaur would. I fell ill because I have not yet claimed my mate. Claimed you.”

  He lifted his gaze in earnest to hers. “I have no right to another mate, yet the Fates have proclaimed you are mine. All these years, Nysa, when you should have been mine, instead you were held prisoner.” He tossed his head. This was the difficult part. “If I hadn’t defied the gods and fabricated a bonding with Sarra, I could have been with you.”

  “No, Oreius.” She fell to her knees before him, seizing both his hands in her slender ones. “Such would not have been the will of the gods. You were meant to love Sarra, to create those beautiful children with her. If what you say is true, we have found each other precisely when we were meant to.”

  Her eyes shone at him, brilliant crystalline gems. Pure as her heart.

  “After every transgression I’ve committed, I certainly don’t deserve you.” He swallowed against the tightness in his throat. “If you would be mine, I swear to cherish you with each beating of both my hearts.”

  Her lips spread in a beaming smile. “Of course, Oreius, I am yours.”

  He hopped to his feet and plucked her to stand before him. Swooping forward, he kissed her, swallowing her mewls. His chest heaved and his skin perspired from the lyssa’s claws digging in. He hadn’t explained a damn thing about the bonding ceremony, but hell, they’d walk through it, together.

  Oreius tore free the laces of her bodice, baring those full breasts, then he swept up the hem of her skirts and tugged them over her head. Growling, he admired her nude form. This lovely nymph, with lush curves and soft, silken flesh, was his to devour.

  She shifted to him and nimbly slipped his buttons free, divesting him of his clothes as rapidly as he had her. His mate was no shy maiden, but a sultry, seductive nymph whose nature was passion as much as any centaur’s.

  Feverishly, she kissed him, her velvety tongue seeking and tangling with his, while her warm hands roamed his bared flesh, exploring and reining over every inch of him. Finally, they rested upon his stiff cock, her stroking fingers only serving to stoke the flames of desire within him, not quench them.

  “Nysa, I must be inside you. Now.” Sinking to their knees, he twisted her around, her spine arching to tempt him with her plump bottom. He rubbed between her thighs, slick with her honey, and guided the tip of his aching length to her opening. Both hands on her waist, he drove deep inside her and impaled her. Hot seed shot from him, spilling inside her, and he roared, throwing back his head.

  A few breaths later, she screamed and bucked against him, her release consuming her. Proof of the pleasure of a bonded male’s touch.

  He grinned and grasped the knife from his discarded boot. Wrapping both of their hands around the hilt, he sliced the blade across his upper left bicep, along the thin band beneath his skin, and freed the bonding mark.

  He howled, thrusting inside her at the mix of pleasure and pain.

  Yearning and release.

  Anticipation and completion.

  “Mine,” he purred into her ear. “Now, you are mine, Nysa.”

  ***

  Nysa’s muscles threatened to collapse, her body bursting with excruciating ecstasy. He’d barely had to touch her and she’d shattered.

  The rumors about bonded males were true. Though she’d never contemplated having one of her own, she couldn’t imagine anyone else treating her as Oreius did. He pressed soft kisses to her shoulders, feathering his lips along the heightened nerves of her flesh.

  She’d been too captivated by the intensity of his erection pulsing inside her to care about the dagger he’d raised to his flesh, but now she tilted her head, examining his arm. “You’re not bleeding.”

  “Nay, lass.” He grunted, tracing the thin black inking with his fingertips. “It’s a sacred ritual. Your name shall forever be a part of my flesh, just as your soul is entwined with mine.”

  “My soul?” Her back against his chest, she angled her face to his.

  “See here,” he tapped the fine scrolling on his arm, “your name is wr
itten in Old Centaurion, and your soul is bound to mine, so that our lives will extend together.”

  Hmm. That she hadn’t known. Nymphs lived as long as centaurs, though, so the next several hundred years would be theirs. Together.

  She nipped at his lips and twisted around in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I would like that, centaur. I would like that very much.”

  “Good.” He chuckled. “Because, nymph, there’s no escape from a bonded centaur.”

  “No, indeed?” She arched a brow and traced one nail down the path of hardened muscle toward his steel shaft. “Prove it to me. I’m a nymph, centaur. Do your best.”

  A wicked glint flashed in his dark eyes. “I think you mean my worst.”

  Warm candlelight flickered across his brawny, bronzed skin. Her mouth parched at how decadently powerful he was. At how small and feminine he made her feel. This tormented warrior had opened himself to none but her.

  The gift of his trust was one she would treasure.

  Her heart flooded with affection for Oreius, edging ever closer to a love that would transform her world.

  For tonight, it mattered not that they came from separate lands, or that their paths to each other had been wrought from tortured pasts.

  Tonight, they came together as one. Bonded mates. Destined to be together.

  He rocked back onto his heels and she straddled him, lifting her hips to sink onto his rigid length. She whimpered and undulated against him, every inch of him filling her, stretching her, and flooding her senses with nothing but him.

  His dark scent, his rich taste, the warmth of his body and his heart.

  This male was hers.

  She kissed him, drinking deeply, while his hands encircled her waist and brought her slamming down upon him, over and over.

  Pleasure cascaded through her veins, icing each of her muscles until they snapped, and she screamed into his ear, her sex clenching around his width.

  He ground out low, animalistic rumbles, jerking his hips upward into hers until the heat of his release spiraled through her, releasing more sharp cries from her lips.

  The last tremor relinquished its clinching hold on her body and she collapsed into his arms, panting heavily, her ear pressed to his chest. His thunderous heartbeat matched hers. She smiled and lazily traced the edges of his chiseled abdomen.

  The muscles flinched beneath her contact, and he hardened once more inside her.

  “Wench, keep that up, and I’ll ensure you won’t be able to walk on the morrow.”

  She laughed and dragged her lips to his. “Is that a promise?” Using her nymph powers, she squeezed his sac, drawing his need to a painful height.

  “You undo me, nymph.” Groaning, he thrust upward into her, pounding inside her in quickening strokes. He crushed the air from her lungs and she clung to him, riding his thighs to another euphoric peak.

  Hands wrapped tight around his neck, she nipped at his ear. “I think you mean ‘mate.’ ”

  Oreius mumbled and stretched, his entire body aching, but blissfully sated. His cock should not be standing upright, stiff and heavy and ready to pleasure his mate again, yet it was.

  Mate.

  A grin tugged at his lips. He angled his head toward Nysa, slumbering peacefully beside him, tucked into the crook of his arm. Just as she ought to be.

  Satisfaction puffed his chest. A bonded centaur who’d spent the night pleasuring his mate. Was anything more perfect in all the world?

  “Mate.” He nuzzled the top of her head, the floral perfume of her hair a fragrance that both enticed and soothed him.

  Nysa was more than his mate. She’d helped him claim the peace he’d not permitted his soul to achieve.

  She’d helped him find forgiveness.

  A hum escaped her lips and she stirred, her lashes fluttering but not opening. Ah, so she was tempting him.

  He withdrew his arm from around her and crept on his hands and knees along the length of her nude body, down to perch between her thighs. The slick, pink flesh between her legs made his mouth water, and he flicked his tongue along her silken skin, lapping at her honey.

  She gasped and clutched his head, driving her fingers through his locks to press him harder against her sex.

  At your command.

  He sucked and nipped, coaxing that beautiful bead to swell and airy cries to pass from her lips.

  Gently, he guided three fingers inside her and stroked the walls of her sheath while his tongue played with her. Oreius might have explored every inch of her last night, but his beastly side was nowhere near finished. He never would be.

  A hundred years, a thousand. An immortal lifetime. No amount of time would satiate the beast who demanded his mate.

  Her muscles pulsed around his fingers and she mewled in delightful shudders.

  He slipped his fingers from her and pressed a soft kiss to her bud. “Now, will your open those lovely eyes?”

  Her dark lashes lifted, revealing mischievous, sparkling depths. “Well, it got me what I wished for, didn’t it?”

  Chuckling, he climbed along her body, hovering above her. “What was that?”

  She wrapped her hands around his neck and pressed a swift kiss to his lips. “You.”

  “Ah, indeed. What about what I want?” he murmured against her mouth.

  “Take everything, Oreius. I’m yours.” She parted her thighs, and he sank between them, thrusting inside her, slowly, gently. The needy haste of last night simmered, but in this moment, he longed to cherish the sensation of making love to his mate.

  The matching beatings of their hearts. Every delicious glide of their bodies. Each sweet moan and gasp.

  They were all his.

  He rolled his hips, leisurely staking his claims to her body. Her heart. Her soul.

  She combed her fingers through his hair, down along his back, and dug her nails into his backside.

  He kissed her deeply, savoring his female and all that made her so very special to him. The gratification would not be suppressed any longer, and he shuddered, pouring himself into her body.

  At the spilling of his seed, her climax soared, and they clung to each other, bracing against the sprawling waves.

  “Nysa,” he purred against her neck. “I don’t wish to ever leave this bed. Or you.”

  She laughed, squeezing her thighs together, clinching him. “Nor I.” She sighed. “I fear we must. There is still Deimos to deal with. And my well.”

  “Aye, you’re right.” He nipped at her nose. “Most unfortunate.”

  Groaning, he pulled away from her and they both dressed. Hand in hand, they strolled down into his Great Hall. Phrixus and Pholis ran up to them.

  “Pappas! Lady Nysa.” Phrixus bounced on his hooves.

  Oreius glanced at her, winked, and crouched before his sons. “I have some wonderful news to share with you. Lady Nysa has become my mate.”

  “Does this mean she’ll stay with us?” Pholis beamed, seizing Nysa’s hand.

  “Indeed it does.” He chuckled as both his sons cheered and snared Nysa in a fierce embrace, then scampered off as lads do.

  She stepped to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for welcoming me into your family.” Tears sparkled in her eyes.

  “Aye, my love. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He rose and kissed her hand. Coughing, he halted the stirrings of his lust. First, he must interrogate Deimos. The male had abused his mate and would answer for his crimes.

  “It’s time to go to Great Meteoron and seek my father’s counsel in dealing with our prisoner.” He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Fear not, sweetling. We will solve this. Together.”

  ***

  Nysa stepped through the Portal to Great Meteoron. Once again, they’d ventured to his father’s castle. This time, with Deimos bound and gagged, surrounded by a trio of guards. The sentinels led him straight into the hands of King Cheiron’s men, and likely, to the dungeon.

  From his throne, the Ki
ng beamed down at them. “Well done, my son. May your bonding bring the both of you everlasting joy.”

  How did his father…? Oh. Oreius had mentioned something about a scent. One Pholis had detected on him, and helped him to discover his bonding to her.

  She smiled at the King, then at Oreius.

  He squeezed her hand and sent her a devious wink. “Come, Agrius and Eione are eager to meet you.”

  “They’re here?”

  He cut off her gasp as he towed her down the corridor and into a sitting room. A lovely couple reclined on the cushioned sofa. She blinked, trying to match her memory of them with the picture before her.

  Lady Eione was far more exquisite than she had imagined. Her violet eyes and golden locks framed a delicate face and a tall, slender figure. Lord Agrius was as strapping a male as his brother. His smoky black centaur half posed nobly as he perched on the edge of the centaur-sized seat, his pewter eyes shining with kindness.

  “Nysa.” Eione rose, beaming brightly. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I had no idea you were inside that flask.”

  Stepping forward, she clasped the spritely maiden’s hands and returned her smile. “It certainly was an adventure.” Nysa laughed, then lowered her voice, whispering mischievously, “Fear not, I heard not a peep the entire time.” She winked at the fierce blush flaming Eione’s cheeks.

  Agrius sputtered. Of course, she had done her best to drown out the flirtatious and sensual interactions between the pair of lusty lovers. Witnessing them together, it was easy to see why they’d mated like wild animals. She didn’t have to be a nymph to detect the passion sparking between them.

  “Nysa.” Oreius coughed into his fist, his tail flicking.

  She leaned in toward Eione. “Oh, dear. His tail is swishing.”

  Oreius scowled and stomped his hoof. “I do not swish my tail.”

  She laughed at the surly glower frozen on his face. “Yes, you do. Especially when you’re frustrated with me.”

  “Why, nymph.” He seized a step toward her as though to heave her over his shoulder, but halted an inch from her and tapped her on the nose instead. “We’ll continue this. Later.”