Greta and the Lost Army (Mylena Chronicles Book 3)

by Chloe Jacobs

  Greta looked back and forth between the two of them. “Don’t stay home on my account,” she said.

  He looked around the table as if he was trying to find an excuse, and suddenly he pointed at Drew. “We forgot to call the babysitter,” he said. “She probably won’t be available on such short notice.”

  “Look, do what you want,” Greta said with a shrug. “But I don’t mind watching my own little brother for a few hours, and I’m sure you guys could use an evening to yourselves after all I’ve put you through the last few weeks.”

  Her parents had one of those moments of non-verbal communication. Non-verbal because they weren’t talking out loud, but the entire table knew exactly how the conversation was playing out. Greta would bet her best sword it went something like: Do you trust her? She’s our daughter. But do you trust her? Don’t we have to try?

  Finally, both of them nodded, and her father said, “All right then, we’ll go.”

  When her mother came downstairs later in a slinky black dress with her pale blonde hair piled in an artless twist atop her head, Greta was speechless. She was glamorous and sophisticated, two things Greta had never felt before. Yet, if she stayed, there was a good chance she could morph into this at some point. She would finish high school and go to college, and eventually meet a guy destined to become a lawyer or a doctor. They would get married and live in a house just like this one, and there would be evenings just like this one. In Mylena, the only thing she’d be guaranteed of is that there would be blood and there would be death.

  No female in Mylena had ever worn any style of dress that didn’t go all the way to the floor—except maybe the fire sprites, but they were a little crazy. Siona looked mesmerized by Greta’s mother, but she was the one who actually embodied the same cool, elegant beauty without even trying.

  Regal and beautiful, they also shared depths of strength that Greta admired. She could only imagine the hell of losing a child. Her mother had not only lost one, but almost two. And in a world where Siona’s parentage had set her apart as an outsider, she’d still carved out a place for herself as a respected bounty hunter and become the best friend a human girl could have.

  Greta had long ago accepted that her experiences were strengthening and character-building, but they’d also opened her eyes to the strength in others, and how lucky she was to have been graced with such people in her life…for no matter how long she could keep them.

  Her mother looked up and saw something in her face as Greta’s dad was coming down the stairs in his sharp black suit. “Is everything all right?” she asked Greta as her husband lightly wrapped his arm around her waist. They looked sophisticated and bright-eyed, excited for an evening out together alone.

  “You seemed like you wanted to say something at dinner, before we guilted you into babysitting,” her dad said with a grin.

  She cleared her throat and shook her head. “It’ll wait. You guys have fun.”

  There was a bit of hesitation at the door when they were getting ready to leave. “You’re sure about this?” Greta’s mother clasped her hands together nervously.

  “I know it’s still weird to think about, but I’m seventeen,” she reminded them. “I’ve also taken care of kids before. Besides, Drew’s already in bed. How hard could it be to sit down here and watch TV for a few hours?”

  “Look through the peephole before opening the door to anyone,” her father warned her. He was referring to Isaac, who still hadn’t returned.

  They both nodded, and her parents finally left. Greta touched the spot where her mom had pressed a kiss to her cheek and sighed. She should have forced the issue and said what she needed to say earlier. It was going to be hard to finally tell them. Harder than she’d expected.

  Back in the harsh reality of Mylena, her family had become a little like those distant relatives in other countries that you only see a couple times in your life because they’re just too far away. You love them and you miss them, but you don’t change your whole life around for them. But now she was here, and Isaac was right, things had changed. He’d seen through her from the start…and she’d yelled at him for it.

  An hour and a half later, Siona sat on the sofa with her arms crossed. “When has this exercise ever been productive?” she asked, watching Greta pace back and forth across the living room.

  Greta grimaced. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. It’s been four hours. He should have been back by now.” How could Siona not even be a little bit worried?

  “I did offer to go out and find him.”

  “Then both of you would be missing in a strange world. How is that any better?”

  Siona looked offended. “I’m a tracker by trade, danem. Or have you forgotten?”

  Greta opened her mouth to tell Siona to get out there and start looking, when a knock at the door sent her running to check the peephole. “Thank the Great Mother, it’s him,” she said over her shoulder.

  Greta swung the door open and dragged him inside. Her whole chest hurt at the sight of him. “Where were you?” she demanded, all the guilt over their fight causing her voice to crack.

  Siona got up and slipped by Isaac. “I think I’ll retreat to the foster house and try to use the Skype to reach Wyatt.” She closed the door quietly behind her.

  Isaac hadn’t moved. Greta squeezed her fists at her sides. There were so many things to say, and she didn’t know where to start.

  “Assuming we are indeed able to summon the portal, I want you to remain here,” he said finally.

  Her breath hitched. She was thrown by the suddenness of it. “What? I know you’re upset because I haven’t told my parents yet, but—”

  He grabbed her shoulders, his expression stormy. “You misunderstand. I would never be upset with you for choosing safety. For choosing family. For choosing life.” He shook her gently. “As the days have passed, I have only become more upset with myself for being selfish enough to ask it of you.”

  “You don’t have to ask.”

  “I will not,” he said firmly. “I don’t want you to return to Mylena with me. You must remain in this world where you belong.”

  “Where I belong?” What the hell?

  “I have spent a lot of time in thought. Not just tonight, but ever since we arrived here.” His voice was thick, as if the words got stuck in his throat. “You were right. Even if I were to command the goblin kingdom to accept you, the rest of Mylena will never do so.”

  “So we wait until they get used to me. It’ll happen eventually; you said so yourself.”

  “Agramon would kill everyone long before that, and without the support of the people, we have no chance of overcoming him.”

  “So what happens to us?”

  His lips thinned. “I’ve made up my mind.”

  She shook herself and put her hands on her hips. “Well it’s a good thing that you don’t get to make up my mind.”

  His jaw tensed. “You will abide by my decision in this.”

  Her gaze narrowed. “Tell me it’s because you don’t want me with you, and I’ll consider it.”

  “It’s true that I care for you, but my duty must come first, and I have finally faced the reality that you are not good for Mylena, which means you are no good for me.”

  She felt each word stab her right in the chest. He was convincing, she’d give him that. But he’d paused just long enough that she knew this entire little speech was complete bullshit.

  “Forget it,” she snapped and spun away toward the stairs, ignoring the reminder that part of her had been debating these same issues ever since they had arrived in the human world. “You’d better get some sleep, because tomorrow there’s a lot to do to get ready for the planetary alignment, so we can all go home.”

  He snatched her hand and pulled her back. “Didn’t you hear me?”

  She looked up at him with a raised brow. “Oh, I heard you all right. I just don’t believe a word that’s coming out of your mouth—except maybe the part about you doing a lot
of thinking. Maybe you should stop, and just let me do that from now on, okay?”

  He ignored her sarcasm. “This is for your own safety.”

  “And what about your safety? If it’s too dangerous for me to return, then it’s too dangerous for you, and we should both just stay and deal with Agramon if he shows his face.”

  “I have an obligation—”

  “You had an obligation to me,” she pushed, seething. “To treat me like an equal, and not some helpless crofter’s daughter you simply feel responsible for. I think seeing me in this world has made you forget who you’re dealing with.”

  He snarled. “How could I forget that you’ve already put your life in peril more times than I can count? Or that you fought to return home for years, and if you hadn’t met me, you wouldn’t think twice about staying here now?” His voice broke. “And how could I possibly forget the wistfulness in your eyes, or the longing on your face whenever your family is around?”

  “I won’t deny that you were partly right. The memories are powerful, and it’s harder than I thought it would be to dismiss that. It’s almost impossible to tell them I’m planning to leave again, because I know I’m going to miss them, and because I don’t want to hurt them.” She groaned. “But you’re wrong if you think everything is solved by me staying and you going. This world isn’t my future, Isaac. Not if you aren’t in it.”

  She crossed her arms and glared up at him. “You’re the one who knows me, who fits me. The only one who truly makes me feel like I belong anywhere. Maybe it’s corny, but for better or worse, I want to be with you.” She raised her chin. “Are you really going to stand there and tell me again that I’m not exactly what you need?”

  His eyes flashed with stubborn fury, betraying the battle going on inside him. She stepped forward and pressed her body flush with his. He groaned. “I can’t bear the thought of bringing you back for my own selfish reasons, only to watch you die in battle,” he whispered, holding himself stiff and straight. “Please stay.”

  “Give in, Isaac,” she said softly, standing on her toes to kiss his chin. “Love me enough to trust me to make my own choices.”

  “If I didn’t love you, I would stay here with you in a heartbeat and let Mylena rot. But it’s love for you that has made me into the kind of king who wants to be better.” He lowered his head just enough to capture her mouth. “If only we both loved each other a little less…”

  “Not possible,” she murmured.

  He kissed her again and again. A claiming kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough, would never stop. And she didn’t want him to.

  “Take me upstairs,” she whispered against his lips.

  He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, arms tightening around her. “Are you certain?”

  She nodded. “I’m certain of you.”

  He followed her up. She let him into her room and closed the door. He pulled her close and kissed her again. They backed up to the edge of the bed.

  She’d never really given much thought to sex before Isaac. It had been just another one of those things she was missing out on in Mylena, like movies, chocolate, and basketball. In the brutal existence that was life there, she’d only had room for survival, training, and the ever-constant search for a way home. And yet as soon as she’d met him—even when she’d thought she hated him—she’d unconsciously made room for the idea of sex.

  Sex. At first it had been kind of annoying, like a gnat flying around her head or a sliver stuck in her thumb. But every time he kissed her, the more the idea of sex became something that couldn’t be ignored. She’d known for a while now that it was bound to happen, and there’d been other occasions when she’d thought the timing was right, but this was the first moment when thought and action had managed to coincide at just the right place.

  What if it didn’t work? Or what if they were bad at it?

  Gently, he closed his hand around one of her braids, as if it was soft as silk and might snag against his rough skin. Why didn’t he appear to be nervous at all? That didn’t seem fair.

  “Can I?”

  She blew out a breath and nodded, still as a mouse while he pulled the pink hair elastics she’d found in her old jewelry box from the end of one braid, and then the other.

  When he ran his hands through the twisted lengths of her hair to separate them, she tipped her head back. He leaned in with a soft smile and pressed a kiss to the point throbbing madly under her jawline. His lips were warm and firm, his hands slipping through her hair to stroke the back of her neck.

  She threw herself at him, hoping to distract her brain from all the things that could turn this into something awkward and weird. He kissed her with what felt like his whole body, arms embracing and chest expanding. His tongue found hers, tentatively at first, and then with more insistence. She slipped her hand beneath his shirt and along the smooth expanse of his abdomen, pushing the soft cotton up his chest. He moved away for a moment to lift his arms and tug it over his head, and her mouth went dry watching his muscles bunch and flex.

  Her hand hovered over a still-red scar bisecting his pec—just one of many that he had now, because of her—and bit her lip. “You’re afraid I’m going to die if we go back, but what about you? I know I can’t watch you go Lost again.” She remembered each and every arrow slamming into him, and the look in his eyes as he’d said good-bye to her right before the beast had consumed him.

  “It won’t happen. I’ve been down that road, and now I know the way back.” He cupped her face gently. “Don’t think about those things now.”

  “You’re such a complication of extremes,” she said, mesmerized by the combination of his size, strength, and his ability to express so much aching tenderness.

  He grinned. “I could say the same of you.”

  Holding her breath, she started to undo the first button of the blouse she’d changed into so that she would look nice for dinner, but he put his hands over hers. “Let me.”

  She swallowed hard and nodded, feeling just as self-conscious as if it were the first time he was going to see her.

  He moved slowly, taking his time. His chapped knuckles grazed her skin like fine sandpaper, and he paused after every button to kiss his way down her sternum. When the buttons were all undone, he spread her shirt wide with his hands on her shoulders, and she shrugged the fabric down her arms until it fell to the floor. His eyes slid over her before coming back to her face. Seeing the awe and appreciation in his expression, some of that self-consciousness faded, and she reached behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra and slid that off, too.

  Her deep breath wasn’t about embarrassment anymore, only anticipation. For the first time she didn’t give a shit about her scars, because Isaac thought she was beautiful, and he didn’t even have to say it for her to know it was true. It was obvious in the way he touched her, in the heavy, hot gaze that followed every line of her body from her eyes all the way to her toes.

  They fumbled with the buttons and zippers on each other’s pants for a few seconds before giving up and undoing their own. She pushed her jeans down her legs and stepped out of them, and he gathered her to him quickly.

  He kissed her like she might disappear into a puff of smoke if he stopped, and she felt the same way. The sensation of his tongue in her mouth, the pressure building inside her, the feel of skin pressed against skin, it was like nothing she’d ever felt before, and she closed her eyes to savor every second of it, memorizing it in case this was their only chance.

  When he lifted her and laid her across the bed, she instinctively bent her knees to cradle his hips as he lowered his body down on top of hers.

  “Oh my God.” She gasped. It was already too much to process all the sensations. She felt like a living ball of electricity that zapped and popped every time his hands moved.

  “There has never been a more perfect moment than this,” he said softly. “I’m afraid to ruin it.”

  She blinked up at him. His arms bulged as he braced himself over
her, but his forehead creased with anxiousness. He was worried. “How could you possibly ruin it?” she asked.

  He grimaced, and she realized what he meant.

  “Oh. Well, thank the Great Mother for that,” she said vehemently. “Because if you’d done this with someone else before, I might just have to kill you.”

  He dropped his head to her shoulder with a chuckle. “Forever the warrior.”

  She reached up and took his face in her hands until his gaze met hers. Her own nervousness was suddenly gone completely.

  “Together,” she whispered just as he had done when they stood in front of this very house and she had been overcome with uncertainty.

  His smile said he remembered.

  “Always.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The awkwardness came after.

  Isaac’s quick, heavy breaths warmed the side of her neck, but the rest of her was cold as the sweat cooled on her skin. She was breathing just as quickly, aware of every one of her hairs still standing on end all over her body, and an unfamiliar ache between her thighs.

  His palm rested on her hip. His elbow was buried in the mattress right beside her head. Her heart hammered in her chest. This level of vulnerability was staggering. She wasn’t used to it and wasn’t sure she was comfortable with it, but she didn’t want to hurt him by immediately jumping out of the bed.

  Then Isaac kissed her again with such love and tenderness, tears gathered in her eyes and she had to blink them away.

  He moved off her and reached for the coverlet, pulling it over them both, but she couldn’t handle it anymore and scooted out from beneath his arm before he could drag her into his side. Who would have thought a big, arrogant goblin king would want to cuddle after?

  And why don’t you want to?

  She didn’t have an answer for that. Well, she did, but it involved psychoanalyzing the reasoning behind four years of self-defense mechanisms and emotional avoidance, apparently a tough habit to break.

  She laughed silently. At least her sessions with the social worker had been good for something. Back in Mylena, vulnerability was a weakness, but here she could see those barriers for what they were, and maybe she was even a little closer to letting them go.