Moon Borne (Halcyon Romance Series Book 1) Read online

  “I’m not a hero,” he growled.

  “Not yet.” Adrasteia smirked.

  Bloody gods.

  “Your minotaur awaits.” She veered toward one of the tunnels.

  “Nay, I’m not going anywhere yet.”

  “Ah, yes, your female.” She paused, her head tilting to the side for a split instant, but he caught it.

  “She’s here, isn’t she? Where?” He grabbed her arm, his muscles coiled and ready to force the answer from her lips.

  “She is not in danger at this moment.” Adrasteia brushed off his arm with the strength of a cat swiping at an insect. “She is cloaked. You cannot see her any more than she you. The only way you will be able to is if the minotaur dies.”

  Arsenius cursed. Like he needed another reason.

  “Come.” Adrasteia led the way, her glow illuminating the passages.

  Never one to tarry when there was an enemy to kill, Arsenius raced after her.

  Time to hunt some bull.

  Arsenius is here. Kyme lifted her head as a pulse of awareness shot through her. Hope stuttered across her heart. Just as quickly, the hope shattered. What if this was another of the minotaur’s mind tricks? Damn. She rubbed at her face—an attempt to wash away this insanity.

  As she scrubbed, a soft, silver glow warmed her hands. She dropped them to her sides and her mouth fell open. The glow originated from…a goddess? She squinted toward the shimmering figure of a tall female, exquisitely feminine features framed by long, dark curls.

  Who is she? In awe, she blinked at the stunning vision her subconscious had conjured.

  The goddess paced between the altar and the wall. Her lips moved as though speaking, yet Kyme discerned no sounds. The whole scene was so bizarre, it had to be real. Or at least a dream. Hopefully, not a hallucination.

  The apparition ignored her until suddenly, she tilted her head in Kyme’s direction, and the words “come with me” cut across Kyme’s mind.

  The goddess glided away, but Kyme lingered on the floor, her mind unwilling to risk the gamble. Yet she was no safer in this sacrificial chamber than in the tunnels. Huffing, she struggled to her feet.

  The goddess had departed several minutes ago, but the tunnel she’d used shimmered with a dim, silvery luminescence. She pressed her hand to the stone and took a tentative step forward. Arsenius’s presence bloomed in her senses. I can feel him. Despite her injuries, she took off in a sprint.

  Her ribs protested the pace. Each breath sent blinding pain down to her toes, but she was determined not to lose sight of the glow. Not now, when Arsenius had to be in that direction. It didn’t matter if this was a deception. She’d rather have a false Arsenius with her in her last moments than none at all.

  Praise Artemis, the tunnel ahead ended in another large chamber. A few scattered torches lit what appeared to be a vault carved into the mountain.

  “Look.” The ethereal goddess pointed across the room.

  Arsenius. She swallowed the urge to scream his name and run into his arms.

  A familiar, dark chortle echoed off the chamber’s walls. The minotaur’s foul stench assaulted her nose as he stepped out of the shadows.

  Arsenius roared and sank to his knees, his white-knuckled hands clutching his skull. His color had drained, torment and despair carved into his features while sweat beaded his forehead.

  Kyme surveyed the goddess and Arsenius’s men. No one moved. Even loyal Thereus crossed his arms, a blank expression on his face. Would no one help him?

  Snatching a fist-sized rock off the floor, she gripped it in her left hand and targeted the minotaur, who hovered menacingly as he appeared to be invading Arsenius’s mind.

  “Wait.” The goddess placed a cool hand on Kyme’s arm and she froze in place, dropping the stone. “Watch and have patience.”

  Relief warmed the ice in her blood as Arsenius growled and struggled to his feet.

  “Where is she, you…bastard.” His words slurred while he swayed on his feet. His hand shot out to a boulder to steady himself.

  Her heart faltered before resuming its relentless pounding. Arsenius faced this monster for her. Not for gold, nor glory. For me.

  The scrape of the minotaur’s hooves as he shuffled to the wall sent shivers down her spine. His claws trailed down a golden urn tucked into a shelf in the rock. Dozens of similar urns lined the walls. She shuddered at what they might contain.

  Sneering, the minotaur faced Arsenius. “She’s mine now.”

  Arsenius stumbled and his hands gripped his temple again as the minotaur continued his mental assault.

  Fight him, damn you, Arsenius.

  The minotaur snorted in disgust. “Weak.” He jerked his chin in Kyme’s direction. “Look who has come to watch you die.”

  As Arsenius stared straight through her, his eyes widened briefly and then narrowed. He shook his head violently. Snarling, he lunged forward, his arms positioned to tackle the beast.

  The minotaur swept out his gnarled hand and cast a shockwave, flinging Arsenius backward. His body slammed into the chamber’s stone wall and he fell limp to the floor with a dull thud.

  Kyme leapt forward. The goddess’s iron arm flew out. She smacked into it, the air knocking from her lungs as she plummeted onto her bottom.

  “Patience,” the goddess hissed.

  She scowled at the tears forming in her eyes and wrapped her arm across her injured ribs.

  Arsenius groaned and rose onto all fours. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and focused on the crimson smear staining his knuckles. A wicked grin cut across his face. “Wrong move, bull.”

  The war frenzy consumed him like a swift, lethal storm. Dark blue markings bled from his skin, circled his face and neck, and disappeared beneath his shirt. The charcoal of his eyes illuminated from within, tinged with red. A sinister sneer curved his lips. So feral, so animal. Such perfect violence.

  With his bare hands, Arsenius tore at the minotaur, each blow of his fists targeted for maximum pain. The creature’s blood splattered across his ivory shirt, feeding the frenzy.

  The bull lashed back, dipping his head in a clumsy attempt to puncture Arsenius with his horns. Arsenius grabbed him by both horns and kneed him in the gut. Roaring, he rammed his shoulder into the beast, slamming him against the wall. Though the minotaur could no doubt overpower Kyme, he was no physical match for Arsenius in his frenzy.

  No one was.

  Her slaver’s muscles bulged as he seized the enormous minotaur, hoisted him above his head, and hurled the beast across the chamber.

  Oh yes. Lust shot through her blood. Warmth pooled in her core. She’d never beheld anything as tantalizing as this fierce warrior before her.

  Fixated, she admired Arsenius’s perfect grace while he stalked toward his victim and shoved the minotaur’s face into the ground with the heel of his boot.

  This was why Ares made even other gods tremble—the violence of war. The unbridled rage, the perfect killing.

  This was her male.

  No need for strategy, for Arsenius was invincible. In his mindless state, the minotaur held no power over him. No mind to manipulate. The beast’s eyes widened with dread as though he’d come to this same conclusion.

  Arsenius gripped the beast’s head and snapped off one of his thick horns. The minotaur howled in agony.

  Circling the creature, Arsenius punctured him repeatedly with the deadly tip. Her slaver toyed with him, using the bull’s own horn as a weapon against him. He moved twice as fast as the minotaur, who was unable to match his tormentor’s speed.

  Though the goddess’s lips were pressed firm, Kyme caught the sparkle of satisfaction in her eyes.

  After a time, the goddess spoke. “Enough.” Drawing her sword, she stepped between them and handed the weapon to Arsenius. The goddess bent next to the cowering minotaur and whispered in his ear.

  Kyme shuddered, catching a few words of the horrific curse. Hades. Tartarus. Retribution.

  Arsenius nodded
at the goddess and slashed the sword across the creature’s neck.

  Too swift. He ought to have been tortured more.

  “He will be.” Those steel eyes narrowed on her. “Do you love Arsenius?”

  She gaped at the blunt question, struggling between submitting to her more pious instincts and itching to slap the goddess for her impertinence. A huff escaped her lips. How absurd to even ask such a question of an Amazon. Besides, whatever her emotions might be, they were not anyone else’s concern.

  The goddess tilted her head and nodded. “Take good care of my brother.”

  Brother? The goddess reclaimed her sword from Arsenius. Her sword… The Sword of Justice? Was this the goddess Adrasteia?

  Kyme shivered and hugged her arms to her body, thankful she hadn’t indulged in the urge to slap the goddess of revenge.

  Indeed, the minotaur’s suffering had just begun.

  The goddess whispered in Arsenius’s ear and the frenzy dissipated. Sheathing her sword, she vanished.

  Arsenius whipped around and rushed toward her. The feral glow in his eyes dimmed, replaced by a sultry intensity. He gathered her in his arms and she gritted her teeth, willing herself not to cry out as his arms compressed her injured ribs.

  “Oh gods, Kyme.” He loosened his grip and balanced her in his arms. “Forgive me. Where are you hurt?” His large hands palpated her body. As he pressed on her side, she let out a hiss.

  “Ribs, shoulder. It’s nothing.” She forced a smile up at him. “You fight well.”

  “Aye?”

  “Almost good enough to join the Amazons.”

  His lips curved in a grin.

  She buried her face against Arsenius’s chest. Even as his dark spicy scent soothed her, the shock of security caused her bottom lip to quiver. “You found me.”

  “I told you, I will always find you.” His hand was tender as he stroked her cheek. “Were you not repulsed, to witness me in such a state?”

  She sighed into him. “It was beautiful. You are beautiful.” Pain lanced through her side once more. She recoiled and clutched at his shirt.

  ***

  Enough. As much as Arsenius longed to hold Kyme, she was in a great deal of pain. He needed to take her away from here, from the carnage of his own wreaking.

  Some of his crew grabbed the minotaur’s head, others his body. Putting as little pressure on her injuries as possible, he carried Kyme. Although his contact seemed to cause her more pain, his little warrior clenched her jaw. He cursed, praying she would fall unconscious and be spared this journey, but she remained alert.

  As he apologized again, she lashed out at him. “Just get me out of here.”

  He ignored her icy tone, contributing it to the pain. What had the minotaur done to her? Does she blame me? She ought to. He ground his jaw. She ought to hate him, but by the gods, it would kill him if she did. What else could he say to her? Apparently, “forgive me” was wrong. She’d resent any references to her injuries, to any weakness.

  He’d been the weak one. Shuddering, he recalled how the minotaur had taunted him with his memories, scooping them out like one would scrape the insides of a gourd. A light sweat broke across his skin at the recollection. Kyme he’d expected, but the minotaur had also delved into the recesses of his mind, torturing him with images of his mother dying as she gave birth to his sister.

  He’d nearly come undone when the bastard forced him to relive his vow to care for Lena. Damn. Enough. You saved Kyme. You slew the minotaur. You’ve proven yourself enough for one day.

  If the journey through the tunnels and around the mountain had lasted an eternity, this return trip extended that twice over. Though she rested in his arms, his mate was injured and he was unsure to what extent.

  After they followed the trail of lit gunpowder out of the mountain, they stopped for a break. He offered her food and water, but she refused both. His heart ached to observe her so weak, so vulnerable. His brave Kyme.

  Arsenius set his jaw, gathered the strength in his body that should have been depleted, and carried her back to his ship. As he laid her on the bed in his cabin, his vision blurred from exhaustion.

  The surgeon arrived and examined Kyme. Possessiveness surged through Arsenius as the good doctor cut away at her clothes. He lunged for the man, but Thereus slapped him back to reality, prying his vice-like grasp from the surgeon’s throat.

  “Arsenius, leave.” Thereus shoved him aside.

  His fists tightened even as the physician lay coughing on the floor.

  “Either you go or…” Thereus held up his fists. “Don’t make me, Captain.”

  He peered down at his shaking hands and then toward the bed. Kyme had finally fallen unconscious and now she rested, so small, so fragile. “She needs me.”

  “Nay, she needs you recovered.” Thereus gripped his shoulders and pegged him squarely in the eye. “You can return once you’ve eaten and slept.” He shoved him toward the door. “Get out.”

  Arsenius nodded, and like a drunkard, stumbled from the cabin. On the tip of his tongue rested the protest that Thereus stayed—and how dare he gaze upon his Kyme’s naked form—yet the centaur would respect his mate.

  As he staggered toward the Mess, Kyme’s screams sent him bolting back. What was that bastard surgeon doing to her? He pounded on the locked door.

  Thereus opened it, but his large horse body blocked Arsenius from entering. “She’s fine. Go, my friend.”

  “She doesn’t sound fine. So help me, if you hurt her—”

  “Her shoulder is dislocated. She must have tried to pop it back in but the joint had already begun to heal. We have to reposition it. Her ribs are cracked as well, which is why she screamed. She’ll be fine, I promise.” His voice softened. “Go, Arsenius. I’ve got her, Captain. Trust me.”

  A growl rumbled through his chest. He couldn’t decide who he hated more—the doc for causing her further pain, the minotaur for injuring her in the first place, or himself for letting it happen.

  Thereus’s words rang true. He wasn’t fit to be with her right now. Bloody hell, why would she even want him?

  Kyme closed her eyes and prayed for the sweet oblivion of sleep. The surgeon and Thereus had slipped out an hour ago. She was alone. Too alone. The darkness of the cabin closed in around her, too much like the minotaur’s lair.

  Her body hurt, but the ache in her chest persisted. The one Arsenius had caused and it would seem, only he could cure.

  What is wrong with me? Had this whole ordeal shaken her as no battle had before? The words haunting her mind were clear and sharp.

  Do you love him?

  Of course not. Perhaps? No.

  Argh. She fisted the sheet in her hands. She was an Amazon. Love wasn’t written into her Fate. Why had Adrasteia even bothered to ask? As a goddess, she was able to glimpse into Kyme’s soul.

  Was the question a warning? She’d perceived the pride and fierce loyalty in Adrasteia’s eyes.

  Envy seared Kyme. For all Arsenius boasted his hatred of the gods, his father Ares had sent him aid.

  Where had her goddess, Artemis, been? A tear rolled down her cheek and she wiped it away. Surely, her goddess had not abandoned her. Perhaps Artemis had discussed Kyme’s rescue with the other gods.

  Even so, resentment gnawed at her gut. If not for her gift, Kyme never would have drawn the minotaur’s attention. Had she not used her energy against him, she would not have been captured. She bit her lip. Treacherous thoughts.

  She peered once more into the empty cabin. Alone. Dark. Where was Arsenius? He’d been quick to vacate her side, and no wonder, he’d been exhausted. The disgrace of her injuries burned into her. Though she’d been a heavy burden, Arsenius had carried her dozens of miles back to his ship. He should have left her in the cave. No one would have blamed him.

  Had he listened to her screams? She winced as the bandages wound around her torso restricted her breathing. The entire ship must have heard her. A true warrior bore her injuries without complai
nt. Everyone on board would deem her a weakling. A mere female.

  She’d dishonored the Amazons. If Hippolyta learned of this, Kyme would be mortified. Another warm, wet drop slid down her cheek. She grimaced at her tears. How humiliating. At least she was alo—

  The door opened and Arsenius strode inside. She averted her face so he wouldn’t notice the moisture on her cheeks. A sniffle escaped her and to cover up the sound, she snapped, “Leave me.” She squeezed her eyes shut. Before my weakness disgusts you even further.

  The lock clicked and she let out a sigh of relief. Her ease was short-lived, though, for he’d locked the door and stalked toward the bed. She snorted as he offered her a handkerchief. It was such a gentlemanly thing to do and she was no lady. Still, she accepted the cloth and erased the evidence of her humiliation.

  He cleared his throat. “I promise to leave you be, but first I must.” He paused.

  Certain of his next words, she braced, arms wielded defensively across her heart.

  Arsenius sank onto the edge of the bed. Her traitorous body curled toward him. “Kyme, can you ever forgive me?”

  Her lips parted. “Whyever?”

  “You’re going to make me declare everything, aren’t you?” He groaned. “This is why I hate apologizing to women.”

  “If my sex is so offensive to you, I suggest you go.”

  His intense eyes flashed silver. “In truth, I find nothing offensive about your sex, Kyme.”

  She snorted. “You needn’t bother with explanations. My conclusions are in accordance with yours.” She jerked her chin at the door, but he made no move to comply.

  Instead, he stared at her, a deep furrow in his brow. “What precisely are we of like mind about?”

  She clutched the sheet, nearly rending the crimson fabric in half. How dare he make her speak the words. “I am unfit to aid you in recovering your sister. You would do best to follow your original plan and sell me, after all.” She would never be able to hold her head high if he sent her back to her sisters. No, she was unworthy of anything except a slave’s fate.

  “Not fit?”