by JoAnna Grace
“I’m not getting cozy with her. I understand and respect her vow to the gods,” Dante argued. “She enjoys flowers but never gets to go out in the gardens. In case you haven’t noticed, she works nonstop, all day. It’s a small token of thanks for her many hours pent up in that room.”
Yankee rolled his eyes. “Pfft! It’s a token of you wanting to tap that ass. There’s a thought, the two virgins losing it to one another. You want to pop her cherry?”
“You’re a bastard.” Dante stood and shoved the piece of paper towards Brenden. “Put me down for whatever. I need to get out of here.”
“She’s getting to you, Ken Doll. Be careful, women are a bad addiction,” Yankee called to his back just before Dante slammed the door to the conference room.
What did that crude, arrogant ass know about women? To Yankee, all women were sexual toys and nothing more. Gods, what he would give to see Yankee turned upside down by a woman. Wouldn’t that be a sight?
It would never happen. He was too full of anger and vengeance to let a woman soothe him with love and tenderness. Dante blew off his ramblings and concentrated on avoiding his father and continuing his studies and duties.
Yankee continued to be a pain in his side, leaving reminders of their conversation everywhere. Dante entered the suite a couple days later to see Lysandra nibbling on a bowl full of cherries as she folded sheets. Bastard. Every time she slid one of those red drops across her lips Dante’s pants tightened. The innocent woman had no clue what lustful thoughts played in his mind.
“Would you like a cherry? I can share mine?” Lysandra asked, holding out the bowl.
“Oh, dear Zeus.” Blood drained from his head and rushed to his groin. He clenched his jaws and focused on anything in the room but those red lips.
A couple of days later, the palace chef brought up a freshly baked cherry pie for Dante, compliments of Yankee.
“Sonofabitch,” Dante muttered when he saw Valarie holding the sweet-smelling treat. Her face dropped until he kindly thanked her and accepted the pie.
Dante took it right to the wing of the palace where the Elites’ quarters were. He picked the lock on Yankee’s door and slipped in. Pulling back the sheets, Dante smeared the pie all over his pillow and bedding.
“Dream of that, jerk.”
Yankee’s cursing could be heard all over the palace.
***
DANTE COULDN’T HELP but watch Lysandra—no, Lysa—out of the corner of his eye. She’d asked to be called Lysa, since it sounded more modern. For the last three weeks since her arrival, she’d been more than attentive to Dyna, Avery, and the Elites.
She prayed with and for Brenden who slipped further and further away with each agonizing week of waiting. He feared with the passing days that Nikki would die, but Lysa reminded him that earthly time and heavenly time moved at different speeds. The gods would need Nikki to testify against Salina, they would not let her die. Brenden was taking her word for it. He still kept to himself and came to talk to Avery often.
Yankee continued the cherry references and poor Lysa was none the wiser. She thought he had a weird obsession, nothing more. Thank the gods.
Dante, however, felt a ping of joy when it was time for his shift. For three weeks, he had dreamt of her body. The image of her standing naked and strong, like a true goddess, was burned in his brain. He could recall every hill and valley of her torso, the sweep of her hips, the curves of her modest breasts. The memory tortured him relentlessly. If the gods had sent her to test his strength, they picked a perfect specimen.
“Eat your dinner, warrior,” she said softly. “You need your strength.”
“Do you imply that I am lacking?” Dante retorted, desiring to see a beautiful blush spread across her ivory cheeks. She was so innocent, so pure, and a bit naive. He forgot everything else when he was with her.
Her eyes widened. “No. I would never insult you in such manner.”
Ah, there it was. “But you would insult me in other manners?” It was almost cruel to tease her, but he loved it so.
“Of course not. I would never mean to disrespect a great—” She noticed him grinning and narrowed her eyes. “You antagonize me? Why?”
Dante had spent hours researching the Oracles of Delphi. The humans had their stories of women high off chemicals, but that was not what the Olympian histories recorded. In fact, the gods respected the Pythia. Their guidance to Deities of Earth was priceless—back when the Deities consulted them. A woman such as Lysa would be taken into the temple and adopted into a family of all women who resided there. Humans would compare them to monks. They take a vow of celibacy upon joining the temple and their bodies became vessels of the gods. No men were allowed in their sanctuary so as not to compromise their purity.
He knew he should feel guilty, thinking of her the way he did when she was promised to the gods, but she’d become the brightest part of his days. No matter what crap his father gave him, or how Prince Ashton bothered him, or how Yankee teased him relentlessly; all he had to do was step into Lysa’s presence and all his stress melted away.
She learned quickly how to adjust to all the changes, including dealing with him.
“It is good for you,” he answered her question.
Her eyes darted away. “I’m sure you are correct, warrior.”
He went back to reading his book and she folded clean sheets for Avery’s bed. Her soft humming turned into singing. It centered him and he closed his eyes to listen to the melody for a moment. Her voice was high and light, almost like bells. The clarity of her tone could put a man in a trance if he let it. Lysa could truly calm the beast that ran through his Thracian blood.
“Are you tired, warrior? I can be still so that you might rest.”
“No, no. I enjoy your singing. Your voice is pleasing to the ear.” Dante once again lost his breath when she turned her shy face away from him and pushed her black hair behind her ear. His experience with women was next to nonexistent. But he enjoyed their tennis match of flirtatious glances.
Lysa sat down in a chair. Her nearness caused his body to stiffen and his heart to accelerate. “I remember my parents always had music in our home.” She stared off into space, her mind in another time. “My mother had a voice that would’ve made Apollo jealous. My father played the harp. He was gifted at stringed instruments. We danced and sang almost daily.” Her shoulders fell, the light in her eyes dimmed. “When I joined the temple, I mourned the loss. They do not sing that often in Delphi and they do not dance at all.”
“You have found your songs again, here on Earth?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “Lady Dynasty sings with me. I thoroughly enjoy it.”
“As I enjoy listening.”
Lysa moved closer and Dante shifted in his chair. The scent of roses lingered on her skin. Images of Lysa naked in a tub with floating petals filled his mind until he couldn’t concentrate. Dearest gods, give me strength.
“Can I confess something to you?”
“Of course.” He leaned in, eager to hear her secrets. Her dove-gray eyes captured him at once.
Breathe, breathe you fool. You cannot pass out in front of her.
“In the city of Delphi, there is abundant beauty. The flowers never wilt, the soil never dries from lack of rain. The sky is a canvas of painted art, the clouds set in place and flawless in their shape. When Rhea does make it rain, it’s a perfectly synchronized orchestra. Each drop lands in a designated spot. Everything is beautiful, but everything is dull. There are no vibrant colors; they are all muted. The entire atmosphere is designed for optimal comfort and no distractions. Things are so different here.”
He ached to touch her and he clenched his fists in resistance. Why the hell did she have to be so tempting, so irresistible?
She swallowed and took a deep breath. “You mustn’t tell anyone what I’m about to say. Do you swear, with the gods as your witness?”
Dante gave in. He touched the back of her hand and leaned in closer. His heart b
eat wildly in his chest as he met at her intense stare. “I swear, milady. You can confide in me.”
“I’m not like the others,” she whispered. “Rhea sent me here because I did not adjust well to Delphi. My soul did not enjoy the muted colors or the synchronized rains. It was as if I was muted as well. For centuries, I’ve longed for the vibrancy of life again.” Her face crumpled and she looked down at where their hands lay together in her lap. She trailed her fingers absently over the lines of his knuckles. “That’s why I’ve never become one of the Pythia. I’m grateful to be of service to the gods, and I have tried. Oh blessed Zeus, how I have tried. But I have failed.”
“No.” Dante cupped her cheek, the soft skin like silk under his massive hands. Her eyes met his and everything else in the universe faded away. All he wanted was to be the man who fixed her broken spirit, to be the man who made her feel worthy and happy. He wanted to be the man she confided all her secrets in and turned to when she was lost. Hell, he just wanted to be her man. “You have not failed. There is no sin in wanting a different life. Not everyone is destined to live as the Pythia do. You’ve sacrificed a piece of yourself for the gods. I know they are proud with your efforts.” Dante dropped his hand from her cheek. “I’m sorry that you view this task as a punishment.”
“I don’t,” she replied quickly. “I, I simply…” Her shoulders slumped; she touched her trembling lips and closed her eyes. “That is a lie. My mission here is important, I know. But I feel caged in this room. It is like a punishment, to have the world just beyond these walls, but not be able to touch it, feel it.” Her eyes met his once more. The building moisture nearly killed him. “The roses you bring me, they are a most treasured gift. They are my taste of the outside. I can never repay you.”
“Did the gods instruct you to never leave Avery’s side?” Dante questioned, his mind turning with a possible solution to her problem.
“Not exactly. Why?” She straightened, her chest moving with deeper breaths.
Dante recalled all too quickly how her breasts fell and rose when she stood naked. He mirrored her position, his chest puffed out and his breath coming faster.
“If Brenden will come sit with Avery, you can slip out the back of the palace and right into the woods behind the stables.”
“It’s not possible.”
“Why not?”
“What if I am caught? What if someone asks questions?”
Dante pursed his lips, going over all the places in the Haven Lysa could go and be safe. The only problem would be getting her there.
“What if I can make this work? Would you try?”
“Will you take me?”
His mind misfired and, for a moment, he forgot all about going outside. He wished her offer were something far more carnal. Air left his lungs in a rush and she picked up on his reaction. Damn it.
“Outside, I mean. In the woods?” She closed her eyes and placed a hand over her mouth. Those creamy white cheeks pinked with blush again. “Let me rephrase; will you come with me?”
As aroused as he was by her innocence, he took that statement straight to the gutter too. Gods! What he would give to come with her, to watch her climax while she pushed him over the edge with her. Oh, sweet rapture.
Dante cleared his throat and nodded, unable to form the right words.
To his own humility, he realized he was as inexperienced as she was. Once people learned of his gifts, they had little to do with him. Women appreciated his visual appeal, but none had ever made advances once they knew he could block their Olympian gifts. He dared not go into the human realm to find lovers. His sand-colored eyes would have quickly labeled him as different.
He shook off the negativity and set out to find Lysa an ounce of freedom.
“You must be bat-shit crazy,” Yankee scoffed when Dante consulted Lady Dyna and a couple of the Elites.
“Language, Samuel.” Dyna shook her head. She addressed Lysa, “I’m sorry that I have overlooked your needs, dear one. Truly, if I had to stay in this room every minute of every day, I would go crazy. Forgive me for not picking up on your distress sooner.”
Lysandra knelt in front of the queen. “You are not to blame, Majesty. I do not wish to be a distraction or hindrance.”
Dyna lifted her by the shoulders. “You are neither. I have a solution. Come with me.” Dyna led them into the closet of her sleeping chambers. Behind a rack of clothing was a hidden door complete with a number key pad. Dyna typed in four numbers. “This tunnel was built centuries ago; very few know of it. It seems like you need in on the secret.” She smiled and pushed open the door. “Down the stairs and there is another door.” She rattled off a four-digit key pad number. “Follow the tunnel to the right. It will lead you far into the mountain wilderness. It is far from the village, on the very edges of the Haven. No one will see you. Take your time.”
“Thank you, milady.” Dante took a flashlight from the interior wall and turned it on.
“Just for the record,” Yankee said, his arms braced on the frame of the closet door. “I still say this is a stupid idea.”
“We’ll be careful,” Dante assured them.
“I hope so. You sure you don’t want to pack some cherries to snack on?”
“Leaving now.” Dante gave Lysandra a gentle push through the door. He heard Dyna ask why on earth they would want cherries. Yankee snickered.
At the bottom of the stairs was a short hallway that housed a massive metal door like a vault entrance. He typed in the four numbers and the door swung open silently.
Of course, the tunnel was clean; it was created by magic and guarded by magic. He could feel it rippling on the walls. This series of tunnels was an emergency escape route for the royal family.
“Can you see adequately?” Lysandra whispered.
“Yes.”
“Good. Because I cannot.”
Her hand touched the small of his back and clenched in his shirt, barely missing the weapons tucked into his belt. Instinctively, he reached around and took her hand in his.
“I have you, milady.”
“I know you do.”
He caught the soft hint of a smile in her voice and his heart flipped in his chest. Her small hand was warm and snugly tucked into his. It felt…natural, right. And it shouldn’t have.
As they reached the exterior door, Dante released her hand and immediately felt the absence.
Focus.
“I’m going to go out first and scout the area.” He handed her the flashlight. “I want to get a feel for where we are. The perimeter of the Haven is heavily guarded right now. I want to make sure not even another Thracian will find us.”
Lysa nodded, her eyes wide, her hands gripping the flashlight for dear life.
Stairs led upward to another massive metal entrance. The vault door was hard to open and he had to push a foot of moss and debris out of the way. The tunnel flooded with natural light and he blinked to adjust his eyes.
“Don’t be too long.” Lysa’s lips narrowed in a strained smile.
“Fear not; I won’t let anything happen to you.”
His assurance allowed her to smile to soften into something real.
Knowing she was afraid, even if only a little, Dante took spare minutes to jog around the area, studying the layout, and finding the roof of the palace and Thracian Training Center further down the mountain, the village nestled in the opposite side of the valley.
Assessing the area as safe, he opened the door and held out his hand to help Lysandra up the stairs. She willingly came, her face alight with joy. Dove gray eyes sparkled and ruby lips stretched wide. Pink touched her cheeks and he could all but feel her excitement. Her aura rippled with happiness and excitement.
Dante feared he would bend every rule to see that incredible smile on her face. Damned if he would ever admit it, but Yankee was right – women were addictive.
Lysandra could no more contain her enthusiasm than the clouds could contain the rain or the sun could contain its heat. It
poured out of her. The moment she stepped out into the forest, she took a deep breath.
“Ah,” she sighed. Leaves were wet from a recent shower. Dirt, stirred up by small animals. Pine needles. Rainwater dripped from the leaves high above. A nearby creek trickled down the slope. She walked deeper into the trees, touched their rough bark, and heard the crunch of the forest floor beneath her feet. Hidden among the leaves and moss were wildflowers. Not many, but enough that she had to bend down and examine the delicate yellow petals. The color was so vibrant, so happy that her soul sang out in praise.
When she turned around to find Dante, he was leaning against a huge trunk, arms crossed over his chest, smile crossing his face. He watched her with open amusement.
He did this for me. The thought hit her hard. Dante had made this possible simply for her own enjoyment. Did this mean that he cared? Were his smile and his twinkling eyes a sign of affection? She truly hoped so.
“It seems silly to you, doesn’t it, my obsession with the outdoors?”
“No, I’m envious of your carefree love of the Earth. Are you sure you’re not part Gaian?”
She laughed and buried her fingers in the moist soil as if to anchor herself to the moment. “Funny you should say that. My father was. My mother was the one with visions.”
“That explains a lot.” He pushed off the tree and motioned with his hand for her to follow. They hiked uphill and to the southeast for several minutes. The trickle of the creek became the steady flow of a stream.
Twice Lysandra had to scurry to catch up because she stopped to look at a flower on the ground or upwards at the pattern of sunlight streaming through the trees. Greens, browns, blues, reds. The colors were incredible. The intricate patterns of leaves and the texture of the tree bark, all of it called to her, begged to be explored. When they stood on the bank of the stream, Lysandra breathed in the scent of the water, fresh and cool.
Perfect. It was all so perfect. Not the illusion of perfection as in Delphi, but real, touchable perfection. The type of natural wonders that sparked all the senses. Her chest contracted and she felt a funny wetness trickle down her cheeks.
