Air's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 3) Page 2
“What is it, Airla?” Syke whispered at her side.
“Oh, he’s hurt. The poor thing,” Carya droned, gliding forward. “We must heal him.”
Airla brandished her spear, blocking Carya’s path. “No. We owe this beast nothing. Let the Hyperboreans have him.”
The others inhaled sharp gasps, but Airla straightened her shoulders and spun on her heel, and they followed obediently.
“Why?” Syke seized Airla’s arm. “We caused him harm.”
“Far less than he has caused us.” She whirled around, pegging her focus on the wolf. “Leave this place, or rest assured, you will encounter your doom here.”
Satisfied, she nodded at her sisters and headed toward their cave. Whatever enchantment Lycus had cast to curse them here didn’t matter. She would determine a way to save them. Without his help.
If he’d come for another reason, he’d soon learn, a century of frozen hell had hardened them. They might be nymphs, but damned if they hadn’t learned how to survive.
How to fight back.
Airla stormed inside the cave, past a hundred other Hamadryades huddled about the scattered fires. “Did anyone find food?”
Silent resignation greeted her. Right. So little nourishment grew in this ice-laden land that they’d had to survive any way they could.
Which often meant, the Hyperboreans.
“Who will seek company this night?” In place of sustenance, nymphs could feed off the erotic energy of virile males. When hunting and gathering failed the dryads, they found other ways, such as trading the only commodity the giants didn’t have.
Females.
Most fortunate for them, the giants had been more than willing to sate the nymphs’ carnal appetites. One night of passions often sustained the nymphs for two or three weeks. Relying on anyone for their survival grated at Airla’s nerves, but they wouldn’t have stayed alive without the giants. In addition to nourishment, the giant King had granted the nymphs fire for warmth, furs for clothes, traps for hunting and protection, and he’d shown them how to carve out shelters within the security of these caves.
She’d embraced his comfort in other ways, too. Though he’d offered for her hand, nymphs didn’t wed. And her heart had already been crushed beyond repair.
How and why was Lycus here? She worried her bottom lip and peeked past the cavern’s entrance. Whatever his purpose, she didn’t care. She wouldn’t care.
“Make ready and join me.” The determination steeled through her veins. Two dozen dryads accompanied her, wearing cobalt-hued, fur-lined capes. Together, they trekked through the tunnels connecting their meadow to the Hyperborean lands. At the lead, Syke carried a torch, its dim light flickering across the stone walls. After half an hour, they emerged on the other side and crossed a snow-covered field toward a massive and foreboding castle. The edifice was four times greater than those on the Isle of Krete, large enough to accommodate the giants in their natural form.
It loomed, dark against the white encompassing them, its walls built of black ice. Two sentinels carved of obsidian guarded the entrance and, at their approach, swung open huge doors to permit them entry.
Tingles of awareness crept along her spine and Airla whipped around to gaze into the white expanse, but spotted nothing. Shrugging, she pressed forward, following her sisters into the giants’ lair.
A growl rumbled in Lycus’s throat and he limped forward, following the trail of nymphs. Two dozen wearing blue capes formed a line toward the gigantic black fortress rising into the distance. Its towering spires twisted and disappeared into the clouds.
Who lived there? It was so large, it seemed made for giants.
He swallowed against the tightness in his throat. Were the nymphs prisoners? Allies? By the gods, why was Airla accompanying them?
He’d hoped for a happy reunion with her, but the coldness in her eyes when she’d spat his name had sliced through his chest, making him suffer so much more agony than he’d ever imagined possible.
She loathes me.
For good reason. What he’d done to her was unforgivable. By Zeus, he’d never intended to send her here. To this frozen, barren land.
What is wrong with me? He grimaced at his paws. Why couldn’t he do as she requested and leave? Instead of stalking her like some pathetic beast.
Ugh. Yet, that was his mate, going inside that foreboding place. His mate, whom he’d believed he’d never meet again because he’d sent her somewhere safe.
Not. This.
What had gone wrong? Gods knew, for he’d never even attempted his powers before he’d cast that spell. He’d been a desperate lad, intent on doing what he deemed was best, without thinking anything through or listening to her.
He ought to turn around and follow her request this time, but… What was she doing in there?
The wound on his paw healed and his gait improved, so he skulked forward. Those imposing doors slammed shut before he could steal inside, but no matter. He transformed into the wind and floated toward an open window. Stealthily, he drifted through the castle, out from one room, into the corridor, and down toward the nymphs. The vast Great Hall brimmed with fifty towering males seated at long tables laden with enough sustenance to fill the nymphs’ cavern twice over.
A sickening dread lumped inside his gut. This was why the nymphs had come. To barter. And hell, but he guessed what with.
The Hamadryades mingled through the crowds of giants, who greeted them with booming joviality. Airla glided toward the main table, where a winged male thrice her size dined, a crown of twisted black gold upon his head and a thick black fur draped across his vast shoulders.
Bile rose in Lycus’s throat. Surely, she didn’t intend to…
Airla marched straight to the male and settled on the seat beside him, resting a hand on his arm and smiling enticingly at him.
Perhaps, they were simply friends. Lycus choked on the ignorant notion.
That giant touched his mate.
And for the offense, the male would die.
Chapter 3
Airla smiled at the King. When she’d first encountered the race of fearsome giants, she’d worried they would eat her and her people. The nymphs had soon learned not all giants were barbaric monsters. In fact, the Hyperboreans had sought solitude for this very reason. They wished to exist in peace, where others would neither flee from them in terror nor try to vanquish them out of ignorance.
Sadly, what once had been their sanctuary had become their prison. Airla’s heart pinched at the reminder of everything that should have been.
King Zethes ruled alongside his twin brother, Commander Kalais, and together they were known as the Boreads. Offspring of the north wind god Boreas, they possessed enormous wings, similar to the Wind Borne. Whereas the Wind Borne wings were fluffy and white while at rest, the twins’ wings resembled the black ice of their castle, with thin, serrated edges. Their coloring, too, was dark and ominous. With heavy brows and broad jaws, their towering heights were rounded out by brawny figures. They could be distinguished from each other only by the jagged scar cutting across Zethes’s right cheek. At over twelve feet tall, the pair appeared so menacing, that upon first glimpse, more than a few of the nymphs had fainted.
Despite their savage countenances, they were handsome, in a coarse, feral manner. Through the years, she and Zethes had bonded, becoming as much friends as intimate bedmates. Now, they often filled their lonely nights together reading and discussing matters of deep meaning. Only Zethes knew the truth behind the nymphs’ curse.
She’d be damned if Lycus’s appearance here changed that.
“Shall we retire?” Airla beamed at Zethes. More than anything, she longed to discuss the matter of Lycus with him.
“Certainly, my sweet.” He patted her arm and stood, aiding her to rise. At his full height, his fingertips grazed her head. She extended her hand to link her fingers with his and together they meandered toward his chamber. “What brings you to me tonight, my nymph?”
“Where?” Zethes boomed, twisting about.
“Not here. I left him at the boundary.”
“Then I shall have my men fetch him.” He hardened his features, into an even more savage mask. “The male shall answer for his transgressions.”
Airla dipped her head. As much as she’d longed for Lycus’s explanation all these years, she also dreaded hearing it. She was already enough of a fool for ever trusting him. Now, everyone would know.
I’m the reason we’re cursed.
“Come, sweetling.” Zethes led her inside his chamber, toward the sitting area. The solid doors clanged shut behind them and he plopped onto a large sofa. “Let me help you forget.” He poured mead into two chalices—one large and one small—on a side table.
She eyed the chalices, biting her lip. What she ought to do was seek Zethes’s embrace. Partake of his caresses and forget about the centaur. Damn. For years, she’d been able to bury her affection for Lycus. With him so near, all she could muse about was him. She accepted the smaller chalice and set it on the table beside her while she perched on the cushion next to the giant. “Zethes, forgive me my foul mood. My emotions are turbulent this night.”
“Aye, I can see that.” He wrapped those burly arms around her and pressed his lips to her head, enveloping her.
She sank into his warmth, sighing at the comfort. Another rumble echoed hers, and at first, she deemed the noise came from Zethes’s chest.
But no.
The vibrations thrummed behind her. She flung open her eyes and jolted, gasping at the view before her.
No longer a wolf, Lycus stood across the room in his human form, his head bowed and his fists clenched. His previously long, ice-white locks were now clipped short. He wore a stained and torn shirt, dark breeches, and his feet were bare. Wisps of icy breath swirled from his lips, though the temperature in the room was quite moderate. He’d grown into a tall, robust male, glimpses of his etched muscles visible through the tears in his clothing. A rippling bicep here, a chiseled pectoral there.
She swallowed hard and inched toward Zethes. Lycus was no longer the gentle lad she’d known. Now, he was a feral male, capable of perhaps anything.
Zethes leapt from the sofa and towered above them. “You will quit my chamber and my lands, Lord Lycus of Krete, and never shall you lay a hand upon Airla again. She is under my protection.” His booming voice thundered through the room, bolstering her courage.
This terrible giant was her shield.
“She’s. Not. Yours,” Lycus growled, the words bearing a familiar lilt and timbre she’d long missed.
Because he betrayed me.
Airla fisted her hands and hopped down beside Zethes. “Yes, I am. You will go as he says.” She lifted her chin and pointed toward the window.
Lycus raised his face, and those orbs were luminescent in the dim light, glowing an eerie blue-white. Suddenly, he lunged, and Zethes pushed her behind his massive body. Lycus launched at the giant, who blocked his blow, delivering one of his own to Lycus’s gut.
Lycus performed the morphos into his gigantic wolf form and sank those razor teeth into Zethes’s shoulder. The King collapsed to his knees, roaring, while Lycus vanished into the air.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” Airla crossed her forearms in front of her, locking on to her tree.
Lycus reformed as a man behind her and snarled, “You’re coming with me.”
“Never,” she grated, bracing against the force of his powers threatening to sweep her into the air.
Not this time. She was no longer a young nymph untried in her abilities. Now, she was rooted deep within the ice and snow, down into the very heart of this land. “I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.” Before he could vanish into the air again, she spun about and sprang roots from her glowing ice-blue hands, snaring them around his wrists and ensuring his corporeality.
Her roots grew from his arms, shooting down into the floor, and forcing him to his knees. Hands bound in front of him, he bared his teeth at her and snapped, “What are you doing, Aella?”
She narrowed her eyes and scoffed at him. “Enjoying my revenge.”
Lycus thrashed, but the root manacles didn’t budge. His powers were helpless against hers. How in the bloody hell…?
Several feet away, the giant he’d bitten recovered, rising to his full, towering height. Lycus raised his gaze, up and up, and gaped into foreboding pits as black as the night sky. The giant took one massive stride toward him and wound his fist, thwacking it across Lycus’s jaw.
Then everything went black.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
The drip of water against stone pulsed in Lycus’s ears and he pried open heavy eyelids to squint into a dreary, gray stone chamber. A prison cell, judging by the studded bars positioned to form one wall. Beams of light streaked across the stone floor. A chain bound his left ankle to the wall, and another pinned his right wrist above his head. Trapped.
Visions of his last recollections flickered across his mind.
Airla.
He’d believed he’d never meet her again. To locate her in such a place? Well, she certainly hadn’t been happy to see him. This past century, he’d assumed she’d be grateful for him saving her, but one glance at this frozen tomb confirmed he hadn’t.
No wonder she was furious.
Where in Hades had she learned to counter his powers? He tugged on the manacle binding his arm, but it held firm. Rooted to the wall. Curse Hades. He ought to have departed as she’d demanded.
But then, he never would have looked upon the loveliness she’d become. She’d always been pretty, but now her beauty had grown into the ample curves and delicate frame of a mature female.
And his cock had definitely done more thinking than his brain.
Mine. My mate. The female the Fates had destined for him. His instincts had howled and he hadn’t cared for anything else but to whisk her away and devour her.
Might explain this lump on his head. Wincing, he prodded the injury. The King had a hard fist.
When Lycus had sent Airla away to safety, he’d relinquished her as his mate. And yet, the knowledge she’d found intimacy with another scalded his hearts. While she was free to sample other men, as her bonded male, he’d never be able to claim any other female. Even so, his lifetime of celibacy had been bearable, until last night.
He groaned into the cold, empty cell. What did she intend to do with him? She’d kept him alive, for the moment at least. Airla and the nymphs couldn’t harm him, but the giants certainly could on their behalf.
“You’re awake.” A feminine murmur carried toward him, along with a scent so luscious it brought moisture to his dry mouth.
Her scent.
At once, everything in him grew hungry. Desperate. Reasoning blew beyond his ability to wield. “You’re here.” Within himself, his horse reared, frenzied, and he wrenched on the chains, snapping them.
“You can’t escape.” Airla stepped into a beam of light, holding up one illuminated, ice-blue hand while roots formed and tightened around his wrist and ankle.
“Who said I wished to?” He stilled, stalking her with his perusal. She was beyond the vision of perfection he’d carried for a century. All he longed to do was pull her into his arms.
“How dare you come here, behaving as if nothing is amiss.” Her tone twisted low with malice. “As if I would still want you.”
Her words speared into him, spiking anger to rise to her resentment. “I saved you. You might show some gratitude.”
“Gratitude?” she scoffed. “For this? Condemning my people to a frozen hell? We wouldn’t even have survived if not for the Hyperboreans, and last night, you dared to harm one of them? To harm my friend?”
“Friend?” he spat, sneering. “Seemed like a lot more to me.” Those flushes of desperation spiraled through him again.
>
She lowered her hands and smirked. “Yes, he is.” Slowly, she treaded forward, close enough for him to scent her sweet breath. The top of her head reached his mid-chest, but there was nothing small about her fury. She trailed one nail along the side of his cheek, across his throat, and halfway down his chest. Her gaze followed her finger and the barest hint of desire crossed her features before she razed him with her stare. “In ways you will never be.”
Then she spun on her heel and fled the prison, her echoing footsteps stomping across his frozen hearts.
Airla raced from the prison, out into the open garden, and clung to one pillar, hunched over and panting. Blast it. Why, after every torment he’d put her through, did she continue to yearn after him? After the lad who’d made her cherish the future until he’d so harshly wrenched it from her grasp?
“I can have him executed.” Zethes strode toward her.
Shuddering, she hugged her arms about her middle and shook her head. That wouldn’t solve her problems, as much as she wished it would. “We’d still be cursed.”
“Aye, that you would.” He cast her a sympathetic smile and squeezed her hand. “He’s welcome to rot in my prison until you’ve made your decision.”
“Thank you.” She inclined her head and Zethes sighed as he strolled away. Lifting her hand to her face, she concentrated on her tree. Because her roots were wrapped about Lycus, she was bound to him as well. Everything he felt, she would sense.
Right now, the only emotion passing through to her was anguish.
Was it possible he suffered remorse for cursing her?
She didn’t have any answers. Speaking with him hadn’t yielded results. This connection between them was too strong to be dismissed. If she set him free, what would he do? Now that she’d secured herself to her tree, and her tree could no longer be moved, she didn’t fear him transporting her elsewhere.
Mayhap if she freed him—and dismissed him—he’d simply leave. Frowning, she twirled her shimmering fingers, releasing the roots binding Lycus. Resolved, she raised her hood over her head and marched toward the nymph cave.