Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4) (10 page)

He wouldn’t give up on her, and he refused to lose her.

Where was she? Had she ventured to the sacred place of her people, as Melita had?

Or had Deimos somehow devised another way to trap her?

He stared at the stones for so long they blurred together in his vision and formed a solid block.

His skin pricked and he straightened. The stones were split, but not crushed to dust. What if he rebuilt her well? The smallest possibility existed that she might be restored if her well was too.

He grimaced. But not here amidst all this destruction.

Yes, he would rebuild her well, where no villainous Lapith would ever harm her again.

Oreius removed his saddlebags and stuffed the stones inside them, gathering each one. He couldn’t leave any of them behind.

Once the stones rested against his flanks, he studied the meadow and heaved a deep sigh. By the gods, he prayed this was the right course. After he galloped through the forest toward the cave entrance, he followed the tunnel back to Agrius’s lands and then to his home. He dashed to his castle for supplies and sprinted through the woods, searching for the perfect location. Where to build her well?

There.
The ancient ruins she’d tumbled into. Nysa had told him a spring existed here. He leapt into the sunken hole and strode to the light trickling of water.
Aye, this place.

Oreius lowered the stones off his back and withdrew them from the saddlebags. One by one, he arranged the stones and bound them with mortar. Finally, he slid the last rock into place. Two feet wide and four feet tall, the glistening grey stones formed a column, the opening in the middle void of any water.

He knelt beside the well, head bent, and murmured prayers to the goddess Persephone. His people had pledged themselves to Hades and his wife, and they damn well could aid Oreius in recovering his mate.

Although, Thereus hadn’t been so fortunate.

Frowning, he lifted his head. This wouldn’t work. What he required was water. Nysa’s water.

The well’s former location had been utterly depleted. There wasn’t a drop remaining of her water anywhere, except…

That bloody flask.

The one Agrius and Eione had gifted him.

Damn. He raced back inside his castle and flung through the items on the shelves inside his study, uncovering the silver flask from beneath a pile of books. Hands trembling, he uncorked the bottle. Oreius peered inside, squinting and rolling the opening toward the flickering candlelight.

One drop.

A single bead glistened from within the flask.

One chance to save his mate.

But how?

His hearts gave dejected thumps. What was he supposed to do? Spill the water on the ground, pour it into the well, or…

Ah, yes.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his love for Nysa.

Return to me.

He pressed the flask to his lips, tilted back the bottle, and swallowed.

***

Nysa groaned a frustrated huff as Deimos dragged her, wrists bound by a long clanking chain, toward the male seated upon an ebony throne.

Philaeus.

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Together, these two men had soiled her pure waters. Had purposed them for evil intents.

She refused to aid them further.

Even if it meant her death.

Deimos tugged her closer to the throne, and she tripped forward, falling to her knees.

Both men chortled at her, and Deimos stamped on her spine with his boot, forcing her to remain crouched.

“Now, Nysa. We have a task for you.” Deimos jerked his chin at a sentinel, who waved another guard forward, hauling behind him a spritely female.

She squinted at the violet-haired beauty. A nymph.
My people.
How dare he employ her powers against her own race? Anger boiled in her blood.

The female’s solemn expression held no hint of emotion. No righteous fury, no fear. She was numb.

Nysa swallowed hard.
Because of me.

Deimos shoved a dagger in front of her face. “Go ahead.”

She lowered her head in defeat. Perhaps this female was beyond saving.

Mayhap I am too.

A trickle of awareness pricked across her skin. Someone was consuming her waters.

No, not someone.

Oreius.

Her heart fluttered and her blood raced through her veins. What was he doing? Drinking her waters would heal him, true, but it would also provide her with a method to track him. Those waters weren’t blocked by Deimos’s dark enchantments. She’d gifted them freely from her well, to Agrius and Eione.

To save Oreius.

Now, he was the one saving her.

Her mind raced for a solution. Closing her eyes, she sensed a path to him.

A way home.

So long as she remained chained here, she couldn’t escape.

She opened her eyes. The glinting blade dangled in front of her.

Unless…

Holding the air in her lungs, she grabbed the hilt. Though she’d love to slash it across Deimos’s throat, a nymph wasn’t capable of such violence. Besides, too many guards occupied this room.

She couldn’t harm them.

But she could harm herself.

It wouldn’t be violence if it meant her freedom.

Nysa released her breath on a whoosh, gripped the blade in her fist, and slashed it across her wrist.

“Bloody wench, what are you doing?” Deimos roared, but it was too late.

Warm liquid spurted from the wound, onto the floor beside her. As the room spun around her, she cast a triumphant smirk at Deimos, then tilted her face toward the stoic nymph. “I’ll come back for you.”

Her waters pooled around her body and she melted against the cool floors, vanishing.

***

Oreius paced the chamber beside the well. What if he’d chosen wrong? What if he ought to have poured the drop into the well?

What if Nysa was lost to him forever?

He groaned and sank to his knees, whipping his head back and forth. A rush of water trickled in his ears, resonating louder off the stone walls.

Odd. He lifted his head and peeked into the well. From nowhere, liquid bubbled inside the column, filling the well.

His hearts leapt, squeezing his throat.
Nysa.
He stared into the waters, counting each of his breaths and the beatings of his hearts, waiting for her to appear.

She didn’t.

Damn. Of course. He smacked his forehead and scooped the waters into his cupped hands. Steeling his resolve, he poured the liquid onto the earthen floor.

And waited.

The dry packed soil began to absorb the puddle, and a curse formed on his lips, but then the liquid shimmered.

A feminine figure transformed from the puddle.

“Nysa!” He collapsed beside her and crushed her in his arms.

She squirmed and wheezed, pushing at him.

“Forgive me.” He relaxed his grip and peered into her shining sapphire eyes.
My Sapphira.

“Of course, I do. My centaur doesn’t know his own strength.” A mischievous smile played on her lips.

Sweeping forward, he claimed her mouth, then her cheeks, her nose, the top of her head. He couldn’t stop kissing her, and her deliciously nude form wasn’t helping. “I feared I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t, and you never will.” She framed his face with her slender hands. “Oreius, I am yours, and we are bonded.”

“I love you,” he blurted. “I did not say it before, fool that I was. You are far more than my mate, Nysa. You are the beating of both my hearts. The sweet air filling all of my lungs and the perfect pairing of my soul.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I will never be parted from you again.”

She smiled against his mouth. “Do you promise?”

He nipped at those succulent petal-soft lips. “I vow it. For as long as you’ll have me, nymph, you’ll not be rid of me.”

“Then we shall be together.” She sighed in contentment. “Forever.”

One month later

Oreius thrust one final time into Nysa’s sweet tightness, grunting and pouring himself into her. His mate, his love, his
Sapphira
.

She bit her fist, muffling her screams as her fourth—or was it fifth—release seized her, deliciously clenching her muscles around him and threatening to harden his shaft again.

Unfortunately, their people needed them, and so did the twins. Despite how much he desired to, they couldn’t spend eternity in bed.

“
Uhh,
” he grumbled. “Our duties await.”

“No, my love, our lives await.” She twisted around and curled her hand against his cheek. Her sparkling eyes and vivacious perspective never failed to draw him from the foulest of moods.

“Our lives.” He mirrored her smile, nipping at her fingertips until she clucked at him and scooted off the edge of the bed. Cocking his head, he admired the view of her luscious backside swaying enticingly while she dressed. “What plans have you for today? More nymphs to relocate?” They’d already accommodated most of them within centaur lands, although some had chosen to reside in Halcyon, and others, even farther away.

“No, not today. I thought I would visit my well. Take the twins with me.” She fastened her gown at the shoulder and arched one brow at him. “If you’re free, why don’t you join us?”

“Aye.” His nostrils flared and he scratched his jaw. Something was off, but he couldn’t determine what. Nysa and the twins got along splendidly. It was not unusual for her to spend a great deal of time with them. He shoved aside his suspicions and gathered his clothes, tugging them on. Then he strolled with Nysa down into the courtyard.

“Pappas!” Phrixus bounced on his hooves until Oreius scruffed his son’s curly locks.

“Nysa!” Pholis rushed to her and skidded to a halt a second before crashing into her arms. “Oh, forgive me.”

She chimed a bright laugh. “It’s all right, darling.” After bending to him, she kissed his cheek and clasped his hand, swinging it back and forth while they strolled toward her well.

As they neared the stairs he’d built to descend into the cavern, the two lads sprinted forward, whispering excitedly to each other.

What in Hades?
He shifted to frown at Nysa, but her lips curved mischievously and her shrug was anything but innocent.

Oreius stepped down last, scanning the chamber for the cause of their impishness. Nothing seemed out of place, except… What was that pile of rocks doing there, beside Nysa’s well?

His perusal landed on his family and he opened his mouth to question them.

Phrixus scrubbed his hands together. “We didn’t know for sure if we should build a well—”

“But we wanted to make something for the babe when she comes,” Pholis finished.

“When
he
comes,” Phrixus corrected, looking to Nysa for approval.

Babe? What nonsense was this?

He whipped his gaze to Nysa and took in her slim figure, one slender hand curled around her slightly rounded belly.

His jaw dropped and he was fairly certain his tongue dangled from his mouth. How had he not noticed? “You’re… You’re…”

“Yes.” Nysa laughed and bit her lip.

Phrixus jutted his chin proudly. “I’m to be an elder brother.”

“So am I.” Pholis pouted, likely because he hadn’t declared it first.

He tossed his head, clearing it of the shock, and dashed forward to sweep her into his arms. Pressing soft kisses to her cheeks, he spun Nysa around once before setting her on her feet. Then he dropped to kneel, and waved at his sons to gather them all together in one colossal embrace.

Oreius clasped them tight, his hearts overflowing with joy and love and hope. They were the most precious treasures in all the world.

His past, his present, and his future.

His family.

*****

Olympian
– the
lingua franca
(common tongue) of the gods and their descendants

potamoi
– a river demon

raptio
– sexual slaves

Adrasteia
– Arsenius’s brigantine. Named after his half-sister, the goddess of revenge and balance.

morphos
– a shift in form, whether permanent or temporary. E.g. when a centaur changes form from a centaur to a human, he undergoes the
morphos
.