Earth's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 2)

by Rachael Slate

  Clearing his throat, he shoved his lust aside and jerked his leg from her grasp. “I thank you, but I’ll be fine.” He finished wrapping his leg and staggered to stand.

  She flinched at his grimace. “You’re not going to make it back like that. I should have told you, the only way home is around this mountain, or back across the canyon.” She scrunched her nose at his leg. “That’s not an option. We’d best make camp for the night.”

  “Damn, Kleo, no.” He forced one halting limp forward. “If we don’t make it back, you lose the hunt.”

  “It’s fine. Truly.” She pushed down on his shoulders until he collapsed to the ground. “There’s always next year.”

  Next year? She spun before he could view her expression. Did she wish for him to return?

  The notion was tempting, but next year, he might be at war. Or he might already be victorious and have lands to rule over. He wasn’t able to desert his people for so long.

  Arctus scuffled to a tree and propped against its bark, stretching his injured leg.

  “Can you build a fire? I’ll find us something to eat.” Kleo gathered a stack of wood and dropped it beside him, then she seized her spear and disappeared into the woods.

  He scowled at the pile of sticks. What he wished for and what he could have were two very different things. Yet, since meeting Kleo, vengeance was no longer the only desire pulsing through his veins. For nigh a hundred years, it had consumed him, as it had his bloodsworne siblings. Sweet gods, this was the purest torment. His craving for revenge had driven him to this place, where he met someone who overshadowed that urge. If not for the Minotaurs, he never would have met Kleo. They were also the reason he couldn’t have her.

  What was a male to do with such contrasting loyalties?

  Being Gargarean sounded awfully tempting in this moment.

  Sighing, he placed the sticks together and performed the morphos into his centaur form, using a rock against his hoof like flint. Demoleon, commander of Fire, had taught him the trick when they were younglings.

  When the world had been theirs.

  Sparks flickered onto the sticks, and a few moments later, the flames lapped upward, the fire spreading in the pit on its own.

  He sank against the tree and closed his eyes.

  A while later, the savory scorch of flamed meat crossed his nostrils and he peeled open his eyes. Kleo smiled at him from across the fire while a hare roasted above its flaming tendrils.

  “Forgive me for sleeping.” He yawned and stretched his arms. She’d removed her war paint and handed him a cloth to wipe away his.

  “That was a deep wound.” She knelt at his side and unwound his bandage while he scrubbed off the paint. “Almost healed.” Clucking, she rewrapped the cloth.

  “Aye, well, a nap will do it.” He chuckled and peered around her at the rising moon. “I wonder who won the hunt.”

  “Okyale,” she hummed. “She wins every year. I bet she’d already presented her kill before we even located ours.” A resolved shrug. “It was unlikely, anyway.”

  “A shame the carcass is impossible to access. We could have brought it back.”

  She flicked her gaze to his. “It’s not there anymore. When the sun set, its rays engulfed the swine. There’s nothing left of it.”

  He flinched. This was serious. “What if the sun god should—”

  “He failed. I doubt he’d risk a second attack. Artemis wouldn’t stand for it, so it’s more likely he’ll wait for the War to begin first.”

  No comfort in her words, just resignation.

  “What about this War?”

  “It will tear many lives apart. I long to fight, I do, but it’s already hard enough with the humans overtaking our lands. The truth is, we need these mating seasons to be successful, to ensure our race doesn’t die, like so many others.” She hugged her arms about her middle, her focus drifting off into the distance.

  Selfish bastard. Here he was, only thinking of himself. Of his future. His people. Kleo required him, for hers. The Amazons were already stretched thin. Why should they aid him in their war with the Minotaurs, when the one to come might annihilate them?

  He clasped her hand in his. “I’m at your service, Kleoptoleme. If what you seek is a child, then…” His throat grew dry.

  Kleo tensed and pulled back her hand, shooting to her feet. “I can’t.” She tossed her head, and were those tears glistening in her eyes? “What kind of Amazon does that make me?”

  Kleo grimaced at her conflicting desires. A good warrior would delight in the task of producing an offspring to ensure the continuation of her people. Any woman would swoon at Arctus’s sincere offer.

  And she couldn’t do either.

  “Tell me why.” He beckoned her closer with an opening of his arms and the comfort of his embrace drew her to kneel at his side.

  “A few decades ago, I mated with one of the Gargareans. Sinon. Months later, when my son was soon to be born, he came too early.” She wrapped an arm around her middle. “I had aided in many births, so I wasn’t afraid, until the blood wouldn’t stop. So much blood, and the babe, birthed stillborn. The agony was great, and I feared I would die. I almost did.”

  He rested a gentle hand on her back, rubbing in a slow circle, and held her hand in his other. “The goddess Artemis saved my life and granted my gift of metal. She told me I had a purpose yet to fulfill and bade me serve her. I agreed, in thanks for saving my life, though she wasn’t able to save my son’s.”

  Kleo linked her fingers with Arctus’s thick, rough ones. Her hand was small in his, and the comfort of his touch spread through her being.

  “Sinon was furious. He blamed me for losing our child. His child. His heir.” Grimacing, she slammed an open palm onto the ground. “He’s never forgiven me, and he hates me, for I refused to mate with him again.” She slumped forward and rested her head against Arctus’s broad chest. “Emptiness grows inside me, leaving no room for a child. I’m afraid, Arctus, of what I can’t control. What kind of a warrior does that make me?” She lifted her chin to peer into his warm stare.

  “Kleo, we are all afraid.” Gently, he brushed his thumb across her cheek. “That doesn’t mean we aren’t brave. That you aren’t brave, or a great warrior.” He lowered his hand and scoffed. “You weren’t able to save your son, but me? I hid while my family was slaughtered. Every day, I can’t help but think I might have saved them.”

  She squeezed his hand, as his words pinched her heart. “You were a child. They saved you, and for good reason, I’m sure.”

  They both sighed and rested against the tree, watching the rising stars. Arctus understood. He shared her pain, and she, his. Such affinity, she’d never experienced with another. Not even with the other mothers who’d lost their children. They seemed to shrug it off and try for another. Easily accepting the will of the Fates.

  What she required most was a fresh beginning. A new purpose.

  Suddenly, dashing off to Krete and battling Minotaurs sounded rather tempting. She had no enemy to blame for her loss, but Arctus did. Perhaps, in vanquishing his, she might heal.

  Hippolyta would arrive soon. Kleo curled her fingers with Arctus’s. Yes, she’d petition her Queen. Mayhap not for an army, but a band of warriors. After all, one Amazon was worth a dozen men at least. She grinned.

  “Arctus?”

  “Hmm?” he thrummed, his tone relaxed.

  “Tell me about Krete. About your home. What will it be like once the Minotaurs are gone?”

  “Peaceful, Kleo. Once the Minotaurs are gone, all will be at peace once more. Each eve, we’ll gather round the hearth and sing of our foresires, cherishing the old traditions, and establishing new ones. We’ll rule our lands, restoring what has been ravaged, and we will thrive once more.”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  “Aye, Alala.” He nuzzled her neck and inhaled, then slowly exhaled. “It will be.”

  Chapter 6

  “Wake, Kleo, lass,” Arctus whispered gentl
y into her ear.

  She blinked at his extended hand, then stretched hers to accept. The warm slide of their palms against each other jolted her awake. He tugged her to her feet, one finger pressed to his lips. “We have visitors.”

  She frowned until he pointed toward the edge of the woods, at the gleaming eyes watching them. Gasping, she scanned around her for a weapon.

  “Easy. They mean us no harm.” Arctus gave her hand a firm squeeze, released it, and stalked in a slow gait toward the forest. Crouching, he held out his hand, bowed his head, and waited.

  She was about to call him mad, except the shadows prowled forward, their forms sharpening into great furred beasts.

  Bears.

  No wonder Arctus didn’t fear them.

  Four of the creatures emerged, circling Arctus and sniffing in whispered grunts. They were fearsome and wondrous in their beauty. Awe spread through her.

  The largest beast prowled closer to Arctus, a growl rolling through the air like distant thunder.

  “Ah, Arctus, perhaps you should back away.” That bear didn’t seem terribly pleased with him.

  “Nay, I think he’s challenging me.”

  Ugh, males. She opened her mouth to suggest once more that they not engage the terrible beast, but it charged Arctus, and the two crashed to the ground. Locked together, they wrestled for supremacy, tumbling over one another. Judging from the snarls, she couldn’t be certain which one was more bearlike. A flash and Arctus actually became a bear, thrashing about with the other creature.

  They were nearly the same size and coloring, so she couldn’t tell them apart. Suddenly, one rose on top of the other and slashed its claws across the other’s shoulder. An agonizing howl pierced the air.

  Then the top beast backed away, into the shadows once more with its kin.

  Gone.

  Which meant, Arctus was the wounded one.

  Kleo raced to his side. “Are you hurt?”

  Huffing, he rolled onto his side, grasping his shoulder, the flesh raw and torn. He yelped again as a flash of argent sparked across the wound, traveling down his arms and flaring at his paws.

  Sweet gods, what was happening to him? She swayed on her feet, uncertain of how to offer him aid. That was no ordinary wound. The flares dimmed and metal now gleamed from the tips of his paws.

  “Arctus, your claws…” She gaped at those metallic points.

  Panting, he shifted to sit and brought his paws to his snout, sniffing. “What does this mean?”

  Kleo rocked back on her heels, understanding now. “It means you’ve been chosen. By the goddess. By Artemis.” She dipped her head in humility. “You’re her warrior now. Just like I am.”

  Nestled against Arctus’s large, warm frame, sleep had beckoned Kleo, and she’d obeyed. The next morning, however, she awoke alone, cold, and stiff on the hard ground. Frowning, she scanned around her, but no centaur, or bear, or man did she spot.

  Where had he gone off to?

  Scowling, she rubbed her elbows and blew on her hands, warming them from the cool dawn’s breath. Arctus had extinguished the fire, smothered it with earth. Her spear was here, though, resting against the rock wall, so where was he? Not off hunting.

  Frustration at not awakening in his arms drove through her with each stomp. She picked up his trail through the woods and followed it. He couldn’t have gone far, and besides, he didn’t know the way to the Amazon camp.

  Unless… he’d chosen to go? Unlikely, for Artemis had placed her mark upon him last night. To be wounded by a bear was a great honor. To be granted a gift from the injury, even more humbling. Kleo was awed, and perhaps, a touch envious.

  His trail ended where a pile of his garments lay folded on a boulder. The rushing of water cascaded in her ears. Was he bathing?

  She ought to turn around and offer him privacy, but the grime from yesterday stuck to her skin. The call of the water beckoned her. She tugged off her chiton and stored it beside his clothes, then she slipped through the bushes toward the water.

  A calm pool rested beneath a tall, wide cascade. She didn’t spot Arctus, but the water sparkled and appeared rather inviting, so she dove in. Under the water, the cool liquid rushed over her, cleansing her skin and rejuvenating her mind. It was glorious. Kicking, she swam to the surface and gasped, swiping the water from her face. An even more glorious view greeted her vision.

  Arctus bathed beneath the spray, his hands skimming through his locks as he stood in profile to her. Suddenly, he tilted his head in her direction. “Are you spying on me, Alala?”

  “Ha. Are you spying on me?” She laughed and flipped onto her back, floating across the pool’s surface. Though the water was cool, she was warm. The burning rays of Arctus’s stare ensured that.

  A moment later, a large splash cracked the air and water splattered across her, interrupting her floating. She sputtered and swiped her face, glowering at the massive male wading to the shore. “You’re leaving so soon?”

  “Aye, I think it for the best.” He kept his magnificent back to her, allowing her to admire the full view of his rounded backside and robust thighs. She wet her lips, hunger growing inside her. She yearned to feel him again, to taste him once more. Didn’t he feel the same?

  Arctus clambered from the pool, heading toward the pile of garments. He plucked his shirt and shook it out.

  Kleo seized in a steadying breath and summoned her courage. “What if I asked you to stay?”

  Arctus froze. How he longed to hear those words, and yet… This wasn’t right. Not for either of them. He shrugged on his clothes. “It’s better for both of us if I don’t.”

  Those strides away from her were agony, but pounding footsteps through the woods drew his attention.

  “Kleo! There you are.” An Amazon warrior panted, scanning the pool. “Are you well?”

  “Yes. Why? What’s wrong, Neira?” Kleo dashed from the pool and threw on her clothes.

  “You should probably just see.” Neira cast her a frown. “Everyone’s been searching for you. No one minded that you’d not returned from the hunt, but this morning…”

  “Lead the way, Neira.” Kleo waved her hand for the maiden to hurry, then she shifted her gaze to his. What might have been clouded her eyes for a moment, before she blinked and became a warrior once more.

  Unbreakable. Unattached. Untouchable.

  He followed them through the woods. The trek took them nigh an hour, but once they approached the encampment, a somber gloom hung in the air. He sniffed, the ripe stench of coppery blood filling his nostrils. Dear gods, what had happened?

  Racing forward, Kleo followed Neira to her cave, jolting to a halt.

  He pressed through the crowd toward the wall. Dried blood splattered across the entrance, painted in a symbol. He squinted, recognizing the combination of strokes. Kleo’s—

  “My mark.” Her features twisted, downturned. “Who did this? Where did the blood come from?”

  Arctus cleared his throat and treaded to the wall, sniffing. “It’s not human. I would say boar.” She met his stare. Was it the same boar? How?

  “That doesn’t answer who, and why.” Kleo spun to the crowd. “Who was on guard last night?”

  A handful of females lifted their hands. One protested, “We saw no one. I swear, Kleo, we didn’t—”

  Kleo raised her hand. “Enough.” She twirled her fingers through the air. “Clean it off. Then find out who did this.”

  “Yes, commander,” one maiden murmured and they demurely obeyed.

  Kleo stormed off, but Arctus followed, snaring her arm. “What does it mean?”

  She stopped and spun to him. “I’m not sure, but no one is permitted entry into this place, unless…”

  He cocked one brow for her to continue.

  “It has to be someone with permission. Someone who’s been here before.”

  A chill iced down his spine. Who could mean Kleo harm? He feared he didn’t wish to know the answer. What would they have done if she’d been
home?

  “We’ll place more guards. It won’t happen again.” She fisted her hands and her voice was firm, but he sensed she’d been shaken.

  “How many other males have you refused?” He scratched his jaw. “I’ll assemble the men and inquire if anyone heard or saw anything.”

  “Thank you.” She bobbed her head and stalked away.

  Arctus stared after her, sensing she’d not told him everything…yet. He’d earned a small portion of her trust, and he was determined to earn the rest.

  On the surface, she was hard as obsidian glass, yet inside, she’d been shattered once. He refused to be the male to break her a second time.

  Three weeks passed. Three long, torturous weeks where Arctus kept her at paw’s length, avoiding intimacy with her like Amazons dodged male tyranny.

  Kleo huffed and concentrated on sharpening her blade. Beside her, Ainia followed the object of her focus and gave a weary sigh. “I wish he’d chosen me. Especially if you have no use for him.”

  Sparks flung off her blade as she scraped the flint rock across its edge. “Indeed.”

  “Oh, just look at him, Kleo,” Ainia hummed. “I know I’m not supposed to, but, sweet Artemis, that is a man.”

  Unable to disobey, Kleo flung her admiration toward the object of their inspection. Arctus wrestled with a grouping of other males, his prominent, firm muscles flexing delightfully across his massive frame. Despite his large size, he moved with grace and agility, thanks to his centaur nature. The wound from the bear had healed into gloriously silver claw marks that cut across his left shoulder and pectoral. They made him even more magnificent.

  “We’ve been in command of the breeding season for a long time, and you’ve never watched a man like you do him.”

  Ainia’s dry commentary jerked Kleo out of her musing. She slanted a glimpse at the other warrior. “You rarely choose a male, so you might try keeping your reflections to yourself.”