Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4) (8 page)

“Nysa.” Eione rose, beaming brightly. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. I had no idea you were inside that flask.”

Stepping forward, she clasped the spritely maiden’s hands and returned her smile. “It certainly was an adventure.” Nysa laughed, then lowered her voice, whispering mischievously, “Fear not, I heard not a peep the entire time.” She winked at the fierce blush flaming Eione’s cheeks.

Agrius sputtered. Of course, she had done her best to drown out the flirtatious and sensual interactions between the pair of lusty lovers. Witnessing them together, it was easy to see why they’d mated like wild animals. She didn’t have to be a nymph to detect the passion sparking between them.

“Nysa.” Oreius coughed into his fist, his tail flicking.

She leaned in toward Eione. “Oh, dear. His tail is swishing.”

Oreius scowled and stomped his hoof. “I do not swish my tail.”

She laughed at the surly glower frozen on his face. “Yes, you do. Especially when you’re frustrated with me.”

“Why, nymph.” He seized a step toward her as though to heave her over his shoulder, but halted an inch from her and tapped her on the nose instead. “We’ll continue this. Later.”

Lady Eione laughed and linked her arm with Nysa’s. “I like you, nymph.”

“I feel as though we are already friends.” Indeed, she’d spent weeks with the pair while they’d transported the flask to Oreius.

“So we shall be.” Eione tugged on her arm and drew her toward the balcony. “Tell me, how did this come to pass? You turning from water into,” she waved a hand across Nysa’s form, “this.”

“A long story, but the short of it is, Oreius tossed the waters you gifted to him onto his lawn, and the enchantment which should have aided him instead freed me.”

“The brute,” Eione scoffed.

“He was.” Nysa bit her lip. “He was also in such pain.”

They peeked at the two males, who’d switched into human form and now sipped amber liquor, conversing in low tones while they reclined in leather armchairs.

“He doesn’t seem to be anymore,” Eione whispered, then lifted her stare to Nysa. “Because of you.”

She shook her head. “No, he is healing, all on his own.”

“Hmm, perhaps, but you were the one to give him a swift kick in the right direction.”

“That I was.” She smiled and jerked her chin toward Agrius. “I’m so glad the two of you are happily bonded. I was fearful, given your family’s vengeful interference.”

“I could not be more content.” She cast a dreamy smile toward the basinet, wherein their tiny centaur babe slept peacefully. “I never dreamed this would be my fate, but now that I am here, I wouldn’t change anything. Agrius and Ianthe are my world.” She peered at Nysa, a flush of pink flaming her cheeks. “I am sorry for what I said about nymphs. It was thoughtless and unkind.”

“About nymphs telling you anything if you spread their legs wide enough?” Nysa laughed. “Unkind mayhap, but not entirely untrue.”

She arched one brow at Nysa. “Tell me what you plan next. I saw the guards bring a man to the dungeon. And what of your well?”

“Deimos.” She wrinkled her nose. “He’s been abusing the powers of my waters. For what purpose, I know not, but I pray the King may uncover it.” A sigh passed her lips. “Cheiron also spoke of devising a way to secure my well. Without it, I cannot remain here for much longer.”

Eione seized her hand and squeezed. “Then we will join forces and find a solution. Trust me, once these centaurs claim their mates, they won’t let anything come between them.”

***

Oreius snagged one arm around Nysa’s waist and toppled her into his lap.

“
Omph!
You brute.” She squirmed playfully.

His deep, satisfied chuckle mingled with her chiming laughter. The others seated around the long plank table cast them curious glances, whispering amongst themselves. Few here had ever witnessed him smile, let alone laugh.

Yet Nysa stirred a tender lightness in him he hadn’t experienced in years. The tightness clinching his chest eased. Letting go of the past, though difficult, also brought about a sense of relief. He had so many things to be grateful for. Two strapping lads, a loving family, and now Nysa.

A centaur could not wish for more.

Except, perhaps, a babe growing inside his mate.

Soon.

He quirked his lips at her impish, scrunched nose. “Aye, that I am. How do you plan to temper me, mate?” He hadn’t bothered to hide his bonding mark from anyone. This leather vest he wore flaunted it quite nicely, and indeed, his father’s subjects hadn’t ceased in their congratulations.

The bonding was sacred to centaurs. A gift to be celebrated.

He nuzzled Nysa’s ear, groaning as his body reminded him other ways in which to celebrate this special union. His lips pressed against her neck, he sighed in contentment.

The room filled, his brother—in human form—claiming their seats around the table. The grin faltered on Oreius’s lips as he caught sight of Thereus.

Joy drained from his blood. His younger brother had lost his mate, Melita, who’d sacrificed herself to halt a war. A war that continued to teeter on a blade’s edge.

One false move and it would be thrust upon them.

He dragged his gaze to Thereus’s. Poor lad. None save him and their father comprehended the extent of grief at losing one’s mate. Oreius had been there when Melita had transformed into a tree, had sat beside Thereus while he pleaded with the gods to restore her.

Of course, they couldn’t, and the tree remained.

Lucian bobbed in his seat next to Thereus, and his brother ruffled his son’s curly locks. After plucking at their plates for several minutes, Oreius’s sons dashed to Lucian’s side and tore him away, off to play one of their grand games.

Guilt thrummed through his veins. How could he enjoy his new mate when Thereus’s had recently been lost to him?

His bliss seemed so unfair. Oreius cast his focus downward, unable to meet his brother’s emerald stare. The others congratulated him with genuine honesty, but undoubtedly, Thereus would admonish him. The male wouldn’t understand how Oreius could press forward, could love another. Would he claim Oreius was dishonoring Sarra’s memory?

His fist tightened at his side, and he tugged at his vest, throat constricted, though the garment hung loose.

“Brother.” A hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Oreius unclenched his jaw but didn’t dare look up.

“Oreius. Don’t.” The grip tightened. “I am happy for you.” Thereus shifted toward Nysa. “And for you, my Lady. I’d warn you of my brother’s brutish temperament, but I doubt you remain blissfully unaware.”

Nysa’s laughter sparkled. “Indeed, I bear no such false fantasies.”

He barked a laugh at them both, then peered up at Thereus. The sincerity in his grin vanquished the tremors in Oreius’s muscles. “I know what you must think.”

“Nay, brother.” Thereus offered his hand to shake Oreius’s. “Trust me, you truly do not know what I think, and none of it condemning. Of anyone, you deserve such joy.”

He shook his brother’s hand, nodding in confusion. Thereus must be in denial of his mate’s death. No other way could he handle Oreius’s news with such lightness.

He cast his brother a smile, pitying the male as Thereus shuffled to sit beside Agrius once more.

King Cheiron had called upon his sons to join him at Great Meteoron to discuss this growing concern with the Lapith borders. Each of the five brothers, save the youngest, Petraeus, was present. Hector, the eldest and heir to the throne, sat stiffly beside their father. Thereus and Agrius, joined by Eione, reclined across from him and Nysa.

Tomorrow, they would discuss their plans, including how to secure Nysa’s well.

But tonight, ah, tonight was for revelry.

He glided his hand down Nysa’s thigh. “What say you, lass? Had enough to eat?”

“
Hmm
, no. I’m afraid I’m quite famished.” She leaned forward and nipped at his ear.

That settled it. He hopped to his feet, slung his mate over his shoulder, despite her protesting squeals, and marched from the dining hall, amidst the hollering of his brothers, straight to their chamber.

He twisted open the knob, strode inside, and kicked the door shut, locking it behind them. “You might regret not finishing your meal, nymph. I’ve a mind to lock you in here for several days.”

“Don’t you dare,” she rapped her fists against his back, “make me promises you don’t intend to keep.”

He chuckled and set her on her feet, seizing the back of her head and slanting his mouth across hers. Demanding, his tongue thrust against hers, savoring every inch of her luscious taste.

She hummed and tangled her fingers in his locks.

“Sweet nymph,” he growled into her mouth. She coaxed his arousal to unbearable limits.

Her hands grasped for his cock, but not yet. He slid down her body, lifting her skirts and ducking beneath them. Warm, slick flesh greeted his tongue as he flicked it across her bud, drawing sultry moans from her lips.

Crouching, he coaxed her onto the edge of the bed and then fell forward to his knees, her legs wrapping around his shoulders while he feasted on her. Lapping at her honey, he swirled his tongue and nipped at her silken skin. She collapsed backward onto the mattress, her legs parting wide for him and her hands falling to her sides. He slipped two fingers inside her, pumping in time to the flicks of his tongue. Her sheath clenched in tiny spasms around him.

Must be inside her.

The urge to spill his seed inside his mate pounded through him, fiercer than any lustful inclination he’d ever experienced. He wrenched his mouth off her, flipped her onto her stomach, and shoved down his breeches, freeing his hard length. She poised her glistening pink sex for him as he positioned himself at her entrance and drove deep.

A cry parted her lips, pleasure and shock mingled, and she whimpered, “Dear gods, don’t stop, Oreius.”

The instincts didn’t release their hold on him, so he propelled harder, deeper, faster. They were both still clothed, and all he viewed was her lush bottom, her creamy skin flushed from the tempered swats of his hand.

The impulsive, rough, demanding compulsion to claim every inch of a female had never struck him like this. A ripple of contractions clenched his erection and Nysa screamed. His ballocks tightened and burst, spurting forth his essence.

Tossing his head back, he roared, pumping everything he had into her.

My mate.

The last tremors dissipated from his muscles, and he pulled from her, staring down at his handiwork. Nysa rested limp on the bed before him, her skirts crumpled around her bared waist, and her lush thighs parted to reveal her silken flesh, glistening from their lovemaking.

Intense satiation flooded him.
I did this. Brought my mate to shrieking pleasure, poured my seed into her.

She lay panting, smothered in his scent. Exactly as a mate should be. He smirked at her.

“Pleased with yourself, are you, centaur?” She arched a brow.

“Aye, mate, immensely.”

The smug smile curving Oreius’s lips just might be her undoing. He studied her disheveled state with the achievement of a male profoundly gratified.

Nysa wanted to purse her lips and scoff at his absurd satisfaction, but the male appeared so damned proud of himself. Of what he’d done to her.

Of how he’d made her scream.

Instead, she shuddered in delight and fluttered her lashes. Her male deserved to gloat over his victory.

He hadn’t even finished undressing before ravishing her. His thick, rigid length jutted above his breeches, and he still wore his vest.

She was equally clothed, bared only from the waist down.

Nysa rolled onto her back and curled her fingers, beckoning him forward. “Was that your worst?”

“Damn near close.” Raking his hands through his mussed locks, he cast her a roguish grin. He tore off the remainder of his clothes and crawled atop her. “My worst might destroy us both.”

She rolled her eyes at his cocksure boast, but he might be right. Oreius unraveled her in ways she’d never believed a person could be undone. A husband, children, these were not things a nymph dreamed about or planned for.

Yet here her mate stood before her, offering everything he had to give.

The safety and security of his bond to her provided more than that. Tonight was the first time she’d ever stepped into a hall of men and not drawn their lewd attentions.

Nymphs usually either sought out such notice, or avoided it altogether.

Nysa had, in her younger days, toyed with males, but she’d learned her lesson. Deimos had encountered her at such a gathering. That was in the past, and now, he was securely imprisoned in the dungeon, never to harm her again.

She smiled at Oreius. The pain flickered in his eyes on occasion, but it lessened each day. She brushed aside his long, pale locks and admired the serene smile on his face.

I did this.
Not with her waters, but with her love.

The bonding meant so much to centaurs. Tonight, his people had greeted her with reverent respect, as though she was cherished and precious to them.

“I seem to still be wearing my clothes, centaur. Might you aid me in removing them?”