by Abigail Owen
To have to face him…
Castor shook his head and tweaked one of the dishes into a better position. He hoped. Aesthetics for an airplane were more his thing than arranging a relaxing meal.
“What’s this?”
He turned and his nerves settled at the sight of her. Dry, wrapped in a white terry cloth bathrobe, something black and silky peeking out the bottom, and damn appealing, her blond hair a cloud around her face.
“How do you do that?” he asked.
Now he was turning into her with the non sequiturs.
“Do what?”
“Come out dry and…perfect.” He couldn’t stop his voice from dropping on the last word.
Her cheeks turned red, which only made her more appealing, but she also smiled. “It’s a nymph thing. Part of our…magic…I guess you could say.”
“Handy.”
“Very.”
He shifted. “This is for you.”
Her eyebrows went up, but curiosity had her coming closer to inspect what he had. After a second, she bit her lip. “You got me all things to hydrate?”
He shrugged. “Yes.”
“That’s just…” She shook her head as she trailed off.
Just what? Adorable? Creepy? Concerning? Not part of their relationship as boss and employee? What was she thinking? He honestly couldn’t tell. “Sit down.”
At her small smile, he realized that he’d basically barked an order. But he felt foolish enough at this point, no way was he taking it back.
Besides. She sat. “Herbal tea. A cucumber salad. Coconut water. Several kinds of juice. And noodle soup.” Again with the small smile. “You’ve thought of everything.”
He eyed the assemblage of items. “It’s what I could get on short notice. I guess it is a bit of an odd mix.”
“It’s lovely.”
Two words guaranteed to make him feel like more than a demigod in her eyes. “I thought about starting the fire but wasn’t sure if that went with the theme or would counteract the hydrating.”
“Actually, a fire would be nice,” she said, sitting down. She poured herself some of the herbal tea and sat back, wiggling her bare feet up onto the couch with a sigh.
He picked up the remote and clicked a button. “Modern humans have taken away displays of manliness,” he commented.
That got a full laugh from her. By Olympus, he loved that sound. Clear and sweet, like bells, or the gurgle of a brook.
“You should laugh more,” he said, before he could stop himself.
Leia sobered. “I haven’t had much reason to.”
“I get that.” He glanced at the seating. He knew what he should do. He should take the armchair and give her space. This was about taking a moment for her.
He just couldn’t quite make himself do it. Instead he grabbed her by the ankles and lifted, gently so she didn’t spill her tea, and sat down with her feet across his lap. “Do you have a thing with feet?”
She frowned over her cup. “With feet?”
He shrugged. “Some people don’t like their feet touched.”
She lowered the cup to look at him sideways. “I guess that depends, Castor. What are you planning to do to my feet?”
“Nothing weird.” He leaned over to pick up a tube marked “soothing gel.” “They told me at the spa that this was…great.” Actually, the lady’s word was orgasmic, but he wasn’t saying that. Tonight wasn’t a seduction, dammit.
“Oh.” Leia blinked. “That sounds nice, but I tell you what. How about you do my feet and I’ll do yours.”
“No thanks.”
“I feel bad being the only one getting the full treatment here.” She waved at the goodies. “It’s only fair.”
“I’d rather not.”
Leia studied him with narrowed eyes. “You don’t like people touching your feet. Do you?”
“Do you want the goo, or not?” He shook the tube at her.
Shoulders shaking in silent laughter, she nodded. “Please.”
Luckily, her feet were already clean and bare, her toes neatly trimmed and painted a soft pink. Castor squished some of the gel into his palm, smoothed it over the bottom of her foot and, trying to be gentle, worked it into the skin, giving her a foot massage at the same time.
“Oh, wow.” Her moan went straight to his dick.
This was a bad fucking idea. He should’ve got her the hydrating things and left the room, because now all he wanted to do was make her moan again.
“Has anyone ever told you you have magic hands?”
Castor opened his mouth to answer, only her hand shot up. “If you say something like only in the bedroom, I might kick you,” she said.
He huffed a tight laugh. “Actually, I was going to say that my wife liked foot rubs.”
The words left his mouth and he waited again for that sharp lance of pain, but none came. Just a pleasant warmth with the memory.
Meanwhile, Leia looked at him with a hundred questions in her eyes. And Castor found himself wanting to share this part of himself that only his brother knew.
“Pollux and I captured our wives and stole them from our cousins, who they were promised to. Hilaera was a priestess of Artemis, and we’d grown up together. Hers was an arranged marriage and he did not love her.”
“But you did?” Leia asked softly.
Castor nodded. “Since we’d been children. I was young and stupid and arrogant as most demigods can be. It’s hard to be taught humility when you have the strength of the gods running through your veins and are surrounded by puny humans who adore you. The things Pollux and I did to our mother…” He shook his head.
“I can just picture it. That poor, poor woman.”
He snorted a laugh. “Don’t you believe it. She was a juggernaut and we loved her the most until the day she died.”
The curse of immortality and loving humans.
“Anyway, Hilaera and I ran and had one spectacular year together and she became pregnant with my child. But the goddess Artemis—my half sister by technicalities—was angry that I’d taken one of her priestesses and told my cousin where to find us. I was out hunting when he attacked.”
Castor broke off and closed his eyes, concentrating on the motions of his hands as he worked on her feet. “She and my unborn child were both burned to death in our home.”
“I’m so sorry,” Leia said softly.
Many had said the words before, but somehow with her they struck true, like Eros’s arrows, and the pain of the memory that had coiled around his heart like a hydra, squeezing the joy and life from his life for ages, melted away.
Was it possible for a demigod to find happiness? Most of his bastard cousins, spawned by various gods, had only found misery.
Still, immortality meant that with time all things were possible.
“Me too,” he said.
“If you did things like this for her, she was a lucky woman.” Leia wiggled her feet. “Heck, if you did this for me regularly, I might sell you my soul.”
She was trying to lighten things up for him. After watching her with the employees they helped through his secret giving, he knew her generous heart hated to see anything in pain. It didn’t mean she cared for him, just that he was in pain and she wanted to help.
But Castor sent up a prayer to his father, something he hadn’t done in a thousand years. If she gifted me her heart, I would cherish it. Always.
Chapter Nine
Castor stood at the front of the chapel beside Marrok, who appeared as cool as ever while he waited for his bride. Not being a love match, and more of a business deal, that was probably about right. Except they were going to have to go through the mating tonight. Wolf shifters had strange traditions.
Like the exterior, built in natural stone, the interior of the building was simple, constructed of thick pin
e logs. Pews carved from matching wood stood in rows with a single aisle down the center, a deep red velvet carpet leading up to the altar and pulpit. Floor-to-ceiling windows at the front revealed an incredible view of the lake, which glittered under the brilliant light of the full moon.
Kaios was already seated in the front row. Marrok had pointed the werewolf out when he’d come in, commenting that he and Tala had been shocked when the man had shown up unannounced.
“We invited them, of course. All our ancestors are invited. But werewolves don’t usually bother with wolf-shifter matings,” Marrok had said. “It must be because we’re both alphas.”
Castor had murmured something vague and hoped to Hades that was the case, though the better scenario was for the werewolf to move on before he caught sight of Lyleia.
Marrok suddenly gave a low whistle.
“What?”
“Did you see Leia before coming here?”
“Yes.”
“Was she dressed for the wedding yet?”
“No.” She’d preferred to come to the ceremony without him, a decision that had bothered him more than it should. She’d muttered something about needing to sit near the back. Whatever that meant. Best guess, she was avoiding the werewolf who’d ruined her identity as a nymph. The only thing keeping him from ripping out the bastard’s neck when they’d been introduced ten minutes earlier was not wanting to ruin his friend’s important day. That, and Leia had warned him not to before he’d left the hotel.
Dark laughter lurked in Marrok’s voice. “Let’s just say you’re going to need a very large stick.”
Stick? What the fuck was Marrok talking about? “Why?”
“To beat off the wolves.”
His friend was obviously enjoying the hilarity of the situation but had to be mistaken. Leia was gorgeous, but she didn’t flaunt her beauty, tending to dress on the conservative side. Besides, he doubted she wanted to call attention to herself with Kaios here.
He scanned the crowds filing in at the back of the chapel. “I don’t see her.”
“Navy dress. Her hair is up.”
Navy sounded right. Conservative. The way his nymph liked to dress.
He caught a flash of blue and the top of her golden blond hair piled high on her head. Then the tuxedoed man blocking most of her from view stepped aside. What was Marrok talking about? While she looked incredible to him—his body started to heat up and harden at the sight of her like it always did—he harbored feelings for her. Given the way the other ladies were dressed, he doubted Leia had anything to worry about with the wolves.
The dress was long, draping to the floor, the top gathered over her right shoulder. No cleavage showed. A thin slit at her hip showed a sliver of flat belly. Sexy as all Hades. But still covered up compared to the skin on display from the lady wolves. Leia appeared classy in a room full of overdone.
She caught his eye and waved. Her lips, painted bright pink, stretched wide in a smile. Castor caught his breath as his stomach clenched in response. Her smile was for him alone. How he knew, he wasn’t entirely sure. His heart hadn’t tripped over itself like this since he’d captured his wife. Only this was different, not stronger exactly, but…different. Hilaera had been familiar, his love tender. With Leia he was all fire and need and protectiveness. Leia pointed at the back pew, indicating where she intended to sit.
Someone he couldn’t see snagged her attention, though she seemed reluctant to turn away from him, but she did.
Castor inhaled sharply.
The back to the dress was…there was no damn back to the dress. The garment was held in place by a thin strap or two across her shoulders and dipped low to a point above her curvy derriere. Barely above.
“Holy hell.” His body, already charged by the intimate smile she’d graced him with, responded rapidly. He shifted his stance, trying to ease his discomfort. In the meantime, every man around her did a double take. What was she thinking?
His friend had the temerity to chuckle. “You’re a lucky man.”
“She’s my assistant.”
“Right.”
Yeah. He didn’t believe it, either. Not with how much he wanted her—a desire that went way beyond the physical. Her humor, her prickliness, her intelligence, her vulnerable strength all combined to make her the woman she was. A woman he craved with a fierce need that seemed to wrap around him now.
Unable to leave the front where he stood with Marrok, Castor kept a close eye on Kaios, in case the werewolf discovered Leia’s presence and decided to make trouble. Meanwhile, he gritted his teeth as, one after another, men introduced themselves to Leia.
Mine. He had the strangest urge to hurl the claim at them, but she wasn’t his. Yet. Besides, he didn’t behave like an uncouth youth. Ever. This woman was driving him out-of-his-mind crazy.
Leia politely conversed with each potential suitor, sending them away in short order. Eventually she sat, her gaze seeking him again. He chuckled when she rolled her eyes, his own tension easing a smidge. Those other men stood zero chance.
Twenty minutes later, the double doors to the church opened to admit the bride. Beside him, Marrok stilled as the entire church hushed.
Tala was radiant in a form-fitting dress that hugged her lithe body to her knees where it flared out. She’d left her chin-length dark blond hair down, her veil framing her lovely face. Every man in the place had to reel their tongues back in.
“You’re the lucky man,” Castor murmured.
“I hope so.”
Castor didn’t comment, too busy observing Leia.
Rather than watch the bride, she’d turned, he guessed to see Marrok’s reaction. Her expression softened, and her gaze slipped to him. Finding Castor staring at her, she yanked her gaze back to Tala, a soft blush coloring her cheeks.
Satisfaction tore through him. Leia wasn’t indifferent. She couldn’t be.
Every nuance of that kiss slammed into him. He’d put all thoughts of it away, thinking it had been a gimmick. A ploy for her to avoid Kaios like she’d said. But had it been only that?
As Tala neared the front of the chapel, Leia’s gaze once again moved to him, skittered away, returned and stayed. Her blue eyes drew him, like the moon holding the ocean in its sway.
He held his breath, fighting every instinct to go to her and drag her out of there.
With a reluctance that bordered on out of control, he shifted to face the front of the chapel, breaking the searing moment of intimacy when he’d rather it go on and on. Thankfully, the ceremony was over in short order—the wedding portion of wolf-shifter matings tended to be brief as everyone wanted to get to the next part. The tension would escalate more and more until they completed their actual mating. The buzz of it filled the room, sending a charge through his system.
Turning again, he sought out Leia, only to find she’d disappeared. Unable to go after her, he kept his expression neutral, searching discreetly for a flash of navy silk or of blond hair. Someone, a woman he assumed, pinched his butt as he followed Marrok and Tala down the aisle. He didn’t bother to discover who. It wasn’t Leia.
She’d never be so crass. Even if he wanted her to.
Yearning and anticipation hung heavy in the air as the gathering made their way out of the chapel, along the river, and over a wooden bridge that led them into the woods. The pheromones were flying. Heady stuff. As their lives were linked in the church, in the mating ceremony, so too were their bodies.
The pull of the alphas, the lust, dragged on Castor, but he forced the sensation to the back of his mind, his attention squarely on finding Leia. Perhaps she was afraid of stirring up the nymphs again or getting into it with her nemesis and ruining the mating? A quick check showed him Kaios was still with the group. She couldn’t be in danger off by herself.
Castor might need saving, however, having already refused three women and peeled on
e off his right side to plaster her against another man more appreciative of her attentions. He’d already passed one couple who couldn’t wait, going at each other around the side of the chapel. As the group walked, more and more peeled away. The sounds of moans and grunts and heavy breathing started to join those of the breeze and the river.
Once deep in the woods, the wedding guests still with them stopped, allowing the bride and groom to continue on into the trees alone, to a secret spot Marrok would have prepared ahead of time. There they would mate in private…though rumor had it some couples didn’t wait to be secluded before having their fun.
As the guests stood, the need ramped higher. By now he was hard as a rock, heavy and aching in a way he’d never experienced before. More couples paired up and wandered off, unable to resist the need to claim each other that the mating ceremony stirred in their bodies. Not everyone gave into temptation, but many did.
“Are you here with someone?”
Castor glanced down at a brunette who’d been poured into her slinky red dress. “Yes. Sorry.”
She gave him a disappointed pout. “I don’t see anyone here.”
“She gets nervous around nature. Don’t worry, we’ll make up for it later.”
She sighed, managing to squeeze her breasts together at the same time, which did nothing for him. “Nature isn’t a thing to fear. It’s a thing to revel in.” She trailed a hand down his arm.
He plucked her hand away. “I’ll be reveling with my date.”
She tossed her hair. “My loss. If you change your mind…”
He wouldn’t be changing his mind. Only one woman would satisfy him.
A strange rushing noise, similar to the sound of ocean waves, pulled his attention to the river off to his left and Castor froze. Every cell clicked into his power in gut reaction as a wall of water burst up from the bed of the river below.
“What the—” someone exclaimed behind him.
The forest exploded into disarray around them. All of the guests dropped to the ground as the wind whipped the trees into a frenzy. Pine needles rained down, filling the air with their zesty scent. Birds screeched their protest as they abandoned their nests and perches. One of the largest trees groaned a horrible protest as it appeared to uproot, only to be righted by a blast of water.
