Wicked Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 3)

by Rachael Slate

  He nipped her nose. “She already has.”

  She slipped both hands to frame his face and kissed him, every drop of blood in her body pulsing with love for this male. He rolled them over so his body rested atop hers, his glorious, heavy weight pinning her to the floor while his shaft pounded into her, drawing screams of pleasure from her lips.

  The potent virility of him entranced her. He was strong enough to command her body, yet gentle enough to shield her from that power.

  She surrendered to him, to this massive male who captured her heart, her mind, and her soul.

  This was the beginning of their lives together, and come what may, they would fight for their freedom and their love.

  Together.

  Side by side.

  Until the last beatings of their hearts.

  And that was the true, wild and untamed, nature of their love.

  Six months later

  Agrius rubbed at his temples, awakening this morning beside his new mate. His entire world had once again tipped upside down. He’d grieved the loss of his brother Thereus with every beating of his heart. Yet his heart had mended, largely in part to his mate. Joining with Eione had brought immense joy into his life. Her sharp tongue and clever wit kept his centaur nature in check. He’d have married her months ago, but she clung to the hope of one day uniting their families.

  A futile belief, yet he would deny his mate nothing. She carried no love for her two elder brothers or father, but her other brothers, and perhaps even her sister, were not beyond redemption.

  Unfortunately, the twin Myron had somehow escaped his guards on their way to Great Meteoron. Luckily, Abiron had managed to evade capture and now resided in Agrius’s village, along with his family. No words had passed between Lord Macareus and King Cheiron on the subject, though Eione continued to write her family. Her letters were always sent back to South Glen, unopened.

  Sadly, they’d learned the cause for this simmering hostility. Agrius’s brother Thereus had returned from the dead, well, the pretense of death, and with him, he’d brought terrible news.

  War was coming. The divide between Lapiths and centaurs hadn’t been cracked; it had been split wide open and, now, the chasm stretched, irreparable.

  Thereus’s mate, the nymph Melita, who’d posed as the Lapith Princess Kalliste—Thereus’s bride—after her death, had stirred the ants’ nest with her actions. The moment she’d confessed the truth to Agrius last week, he’d known.

  Retaliation flamed on the horizon.

  He rolled onto his side and crushed Eione to his chest, securing her in his arms. The dawn’s rays played across her skin, warming her sweet scent. He’d learned yesterday that they must be wed to complete their bonding. Bloody secretive rituals. No one had mentioned this fact to him, though they claimed their father knew the truth. Why had his sire kept him blind?

  He snorted. It mattered not. Today, his brother and Melita would wed, and next, he and Eione.

  “Sweetling,” he murmured in her ear, inhaling the floral succulence of her scent.

  She moaned and dragged her eyes open. “What, Agrius?”

  “Marry me.” He cocked one brow at her. He awakened her thus every morning. Each morn, she refused him.

  She hummed and pressed her lips to his. “Yes.”

  He huffed. “You must agree one da—” Wait. His pulse raced, blood pounding through his veins. “You said ‘yes.’ ”

  “Indeed I did. Clever centaur.” Laughing, she twisted about in his arms and clasped his hand, lowering it to her abdomen. “I love you. As does your son.” She tilted her head. “Or daughter.”

  His eyes shot wide, his jaw falling open, as he gaped at her. She pressed his hand against her belly, smiling with a secret knowledge.

  “You…you…” He couldn’t form words. Couldn’t inhale or move a muscle. Blissful joy swept through him, seizing his body.

  “You are to be a father and I am to be a mother, and by the gods, my dear Agrius, we had best begin our family right.”

  A tremor shook his hand and a tear slipped from his eye as he pressed his fingers against her belly, greeting their babe for the first time.

  “Well, don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.”

  At Eione’s dry laugh, he regained his composure, snaring her in his arms and claiming her mouth with his.

  “Nay, my love. You can trust that I’ll never leave your side. Or our child’s.”

  She caressed her hand against his cheek and he nuzzled into her palm. “A vow I’ll hold you to, Agrius.”

  ***

  Eione smiled at the male standing beside her, squeezing his hand while they watched Melita and Thereus speak their vows. This day was perfect. The warm, sunny breeze lifted the heat from their skin and a rainbow of spring flowers cascaded across the meadow.

  Her dear friend had at last claimed the happiness she deserved.

  Agrius grasped her hand more tightly, sending her a mischievous wink that spiraled shivers down to her toes. After she’d realized she carried their child, she could no longer refuse to wed him. Her family might never forgive her, but she was now responsible for a new one.

  For their child, they would stand together in a harmonious union to defy the war between their races. Their child would know nothing but love and peace. This she pledged.

  Melita’s lilting voice chimed as she spoke her vows. “The Fates have brought us together. The gods have passed favor over us. From this—”

  A female behind Eione screamed. Everyone spun toward the woman, and then to where she pointed.

  At King Cheiron’s feet rolled the severed head of one of his guards. Eione clapped a hand over her mouth, fighting the sickness in her stomach.

  Agrius crushed her to his chest, tearing her stare off the gruesome scene.

  “Get everyone to the castle,” the King’s command rang out.

  Her mate didn’t hesitate to scoop her onto his back and race toward the safety of the castle.

  Once inside, Agrius swung her down and steadied her, gazing at her. The future they’d both feared radiated within those pewter depths.

  “War?” she whispered.

  Nodding, he clutched her to his chest. She sobbed against him, tears flowing down her cheeks.

  He rubbed a long, slow circle across her back while the hall filled with others. Regaining her composure, she straightened, and he wiped away her tears.

  “’Tis because of the babe,” she sniffled.

  “Nay, lass.” Agrius brushed aside another tear. “’Tis because I must now raise my sword against the very people I should be embracing as my blood and family.” He stiffened, his tense jaw clenched. “I must go to Thereus. Wait here.” After pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he sought out his brother.

  Eione fought against collapsing and scanned the room, her focus snaring on Melita. She rushed to the nymph’s side. Hector’s wife Delia joined them and they clung to each other.

  “This is my fault,” Eione whispered.

  “No, my dear friend.” Melita’s voice came high and pained. “I fear this is all because of me.” She released the women, marching instead to the men.

  Eione pressed a hand to her forehead, overcome with faintness and flushed with heat.

  “Come, you must rest.” Delia led her to a bench and she gratefully eased down upon it. “How many weeks?”

  Eione pried open her fluttering lids to stare at the woman’s clever smile. “Not many.”

  Delia patted her hand. “All will be well. You must not fret, for the sake of the babe.”

  “Thank you.” She frowned at the female. Delia had never uttered many kind words to her, but the woman’s drawn brows revealed she might be as fearful as the rest of them about losing their mates.

  Several minutes passed while strategies and concerns filled the chamber. At last, Agrius waved her to him. Eione trembled in his embrace, fear spiking through her blood. If she wasn’t carrying their babe, they’d fight together, side by side. Yet ne
ither of them would risk their child or her possible capture.

  She shuddered. What might her family do to her, to their babe, if she became their prisoner?

  “No matter what happens,” Agrius bent his forehead to hers, “I will always be a part of you. And you of me. I won’t lose you, Eione. Or our child.”

  “I know. Return to me, centaur.”

  “I will.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, then to her belly, his body concealed from the others by her cloak. They hadn’t yet shared their happy news and this wasn’t the right time to announce it.

  She ran her fingers through his locks. “Swear to me, Agrius, that you will do all within your power to protect your family. Our family.” She pressed his hand against her abdomen, indicating the new clan they had formed together.

  “I swear it.” He angled his face to hers and she raised her chin, chest swelling with pride and love. This male would not fail her.

  ***

  Agrius wiped his sweaty palms across his breeches. Both armies had gathered, thousands of men facing one another, prepared to die.

  And to kill.

  He stood among them, positive he would do anything to protect his mate and his babe. Scanning the horizon, he spotted Eione’s brother Myron nestled amid several other bold and burly males. Her family.

  She’d made damned clear to him that he was the only family she counted. Still, could he brandish his sword against them? Could he kill them? When Myron had threatened Eione in the forest, he’d been ready. Was their presence here today any less of a threat?

  Eione carried their child, a centaur. No telling what these savages would do to her and their babe.

  He clenched the hilt of his sword. Though his heart would weep a thousand sorrows…

  Aye, he would kill them, if it came to that.

  His mate would be safe by now, having been guided through the tunnels under the protection of their youngest brother, Petraeus, along with the other women and children.

  Beside him, Thereus paced, just as impatiently as he had when he’d been a lad unable to calm his nerves. Agrius gripped his arm. “Brother.” The peril to his mate seemed to eat away at him, so Agrius tugged on his arm to direct his attention onto him.

  Thereus nodded, shuffling his hooves instead.

  He shook his head, once more gazing out at the opposing army. At Eione’s family. Tension stiffened his spine and he tore his focus away.

  They both stilled while Prince Philaeus, encased by his royal guard, rode forward into the clearing between the armies. Hector and the King galloped down into the valley to meet them, their lack of guards a declaration of their bravery.

  How long would it last? They raced to refuse the Prince’s offer of sacrificing Melita.

  Agrius studied Thereus. The pure devotion he expressed toward the nymph was what Agrius had always wished for his brother. In Melita, Thereus had found the peace he’d long sought.

  No one in Cheiron’s kingdom would tear that from him.

  Yet this declaration of war would be about far more than a mortal—Melita or Eione.

  This was a fight between the gods.

  Apollo had gained the alliance of the Lapiths and Thereus had convinced King Cheiron to join with Hades and Persephone.

  The War hadn’t begun yet, but oh, it was coming.

  This battle was merely a test of the waters. The real fight hovered on the horizon.

  Thereus grumbled a curse and Agrius whipped his scrutiny to the valley.

  What in Hades? He squinted at the hazy black mist. A spell?

  No. Bees.

  He gaped as the insects parted, revealing Melita. Thereus growled low in warning. Before Agrius could stop his brother, Thereus sprinted through the crowds, shoving aside the warriors. He raced toward Melita, but it was too late.

  Agrius’s heart sank as the nymph he called friend and the female his brother called mate, disappeared before his eyes.

  And transformed into a tree.

  ***

  “Where’s Melita?” Eione pressed a hand to her mouth, concealing her yawn. Carrying a child drained any woman, and bearing a centaur babe was even worse. Or so she’d been told. Alkippe, Thereus’s doting housekeeper, had shared many tidbits about centaur gestation on the journey here. After they’d stopped for a rest, Eione had fallen into a deep sleep, but she’d awoken to find Melita missing.

  “Shh, all is well, Lucian.” She clutched Melita and Thereus’s child to her chest, praying her words were true.

  “Where is my mama?” The child’s lower lip trembled. Doubtless, this entire situation was frightening for him.

  “I’m certain she’ll return shortly. Mayhap she went ahead, or is fetching water. Fear not, darling.” She kissed the top of the lad’s head and rocked him in her lap.

  Several minutes passed before Alkippe’s strong voice rang out for them to continue their march.

  Eione gathered her sack and guided Lucian alongside her. A few steps into the corridor, a male’s voice cried out from behind them.

  “Come back!” A centaur guard sprinted to them, panting. “You must return now.”

  “What of the battle?” The air squeezed from her lungs.

  “It never happened.” The male’s features darkened. “Because of her.”

  No.

  Her stomach twisted as she sensed dreadful news.

  “Melita. She saved us all.”

  Eione fell to her knees and clasped Lucian to her chest while the male sped through his story. Melita had transformed into a tree, thus nullifying any thirst for retaliation by the Lapiths. They’d returned to their lands. The battle had never even begun.

  A tree.

  How was such even possible? Melita was only half-nymph.

  She shook her head while the tears rushed down her cheeks.

  “Eione!” Agrius’s booming timbre shot through her veins. He raced to her side and dropped to his knees beside her, glancing between her and the child. “You heard.”

  Alkippe called for Lucian, who scurried out from her embrace and into the centauress’s.

  “Tell me it’s not true.” Eione pressed her lips thin.

  “I cannot.” Agrius crushed her into his arms, kissing her hair. “She saved us all, Eione. I have never witnessed such selflessness.”

  “Thereus?”

  Agrius’s shoulders deflated. “He refuses to leave her side. Claims she lives within the tree.” He exhaled shakily. “Nothing less is to be expected.”

  “What do we do now?” she whispered, heart aching with unbearable pain at the loss of her dear friend.

  Agrius gripped her hand, squeezing tight. “Now, we honor her.” He slid his hand under her elbow and aided her to stand. Numbness spread through her muscles. She’d prepared for losing many of her friends this day, yet never Melita.

  Silently, they trekked through the tunnels, Eione blinking away tears. At last, they retraced their steps to the inside of Cheiron’s palace. She rushed to the balcony and gazed into the valley.

  Sure enough, there rested Thereus, on his knees and pounding the earth, beside his tree.

  Melita.

  She clamped her hand over her mouth as the tears fell anew. “Can nothing be done for her?”

  “I fear not.” Agrius opened his arms for her and she stepped into his embrace, resting her head against his shoulder. “She’s with her people now. She made her choice, bravely.”

  “Poor Lucian.” Eione pressed a hand to her belly. Melita had made the hardest decision any mother could.

  “Eione?” a young male whispered behind them.

  She whipped around, gasping in shock.

  No, it wasn’t possible.

  ***

  Agrius shoved Eione behind him and unsheathed his sword. He didn’t know this male, but he recognized those eyes.

  Violet. Like his mate’s.

  He was of Eione’s blood.

  “Wait, no, Agrius.” Eione pounded her fist into his back until he glanced at her. “This is Antio
n. My brother.”

  “And Dryas.” A young lad peeped out from behind his elder brother.

  “What are you two doing here?” Eione seized a joyful step toward them, but Agrius grabbed her arm, halting her.

  His brother had just lost his mate to treachery and Agrius would be bloody damned before he suffered the same fate.

  The elder male raised both his hands. “I have no weapon, sir.”

  “Me neither.” The younger copied, giggling at the game, and then raced into Eione’s awaiting arms.

  She embraced him, patting his scruffy locks, but Agrius kept the tip of his sword trained on the elder. The lad was tall, like Eione, his long golden locks tied at his nape. “How did you sneak in here?”

  “We saw the swarm of bees and determined where it originated, sir.” Respectful and polite, Antion inclined his head. “We followed the trail into those tunnels.”

  Aye, so many people scurried about that no one would have noticed two extra lads.

  “Eione, if they don’t return to your father—”

  “Please, sir, you can’t send us back,” the elder beseeched.

  “He’ll whip us for sure,” the younger chimed in, peeking out from Eione’s arms.

  “Why?” She narrowed her gaze on him.

  “We escaped our guardians.” Dryas shrugged, casting them an innocent grin.

  Agrius chuckled. If Eione’s kin took after her, that grin was anything but innocent.

  “Agrius?” She tilted her face to him, and now three sets of violet eyes pleaded with him.

  “I fear these lads cannot stay with us, lest your father accuse us of capturing them, but I might be able to arrange for them to reside in Halcyon.” He scratched his jaw and sighed. “Well, I suppose, what’s the harm in two more fugitives?”

  Eione laughed and jumped to her feet, gathering both of her brothers in her arms and waving for him to join.

  He stepped into the warm embrace, his heavy heart lifting.

  Melita’s sacrifice was devastating, but it was also a great example of how love overpowered all ill will.

  And brought enemies together as family.