Wicked Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 3) Page 6

  “Yes?” Hector stomped a hoof impatiently.

  Agrius dropped his hand. “I would wed her. She’s my mate.”

  “Mate?” Oreius scoffed.

  “Yes.” He cast his brother an apologetic glance. “We have not bonded yet, for I wish to have your blessing first, Father.”

  “These are dangerous actions, indeed, Agrius.” Cheiron scratched his jaw. “There is no denying the sacred bonding. We must honor your horse’s choice of mate; therefore, I extend to you my blessing.”

  “You do?” That had been far easier than he’d expected.

  Cheiron released a long sigh. “I would have demanded you seek her family’s acquiescence first, but your reports have confirmed my own. The Lapiths guard their borders in opposition to our treaties. I fear, while your stealing a bride might once have been viewed as an act of war, that time may have already passed. Rumors spread of King Pirithous’s illness, and his son, Philaeus, does not follow in his stead. Your actions are but one more stone atop the grave of our peace.”

  Cheiron placed a hand on Agrius’s shoulder. “Go, my son, and claim your bride. Pray this ominous storm of war may pass over us.”

  Eione spent the entire day exploring South Glen. From the castle windows, lush forests and rolling hillsides stretched to the horizon. The castle itself had been fashioned of sturdy grey stones, the corridors draped in rich tapestries similar to those in her family’s home. Yet these cloths illustrated centaur legends, depicting great heroes and tales of enlightenment. None resembled the barbaric scenes displayed in her family’s manor.

  Agrius’s library contained hundreds of manuscripts and scrolls, each exhibited with pride as though treasured. His staff was courteous and polite, and seemed content, especially to have their master returned. Quite the opposite of her household’s servants, who scurried through the halls, fearfully avoiding their masters.

  This is how home should be. She smiled to herself as she strolled through the maze in the gardens. Earlier, she’d penned a lengthy letter to her father, only to have tossed the parchment into the blazing hearth.

  There was no forgiveness to be had for choosing this life. Her heart ached for her brothers Antion and Dryas, who would grow as cruel as the twins without her presence. Perhaps Agrius might aid her in finding a solution.

  Her musings veered to him, to those gentle pewter eyes and the wicked curve of his smile.

  She had no doubt the Fates wove their paths together. These past two weeks, she’d witnessed everything in him a woman could desire in her husband.

  My mate.

  She bit her lip, grinning like a madwoman. Nothing could halt this budding blossom of love between them.

  Tonight, she’d ensure her dashing centaur fathomed precisely how devoted a wife she would be to him.

  “Stay within our view, milady,” one of the guards called to her as she passed through the garden gates onto the estate below. “Lord Agrius left orders you were not to wander outside the grounds alone until he returned.”

  She inclined her head toward them. “Very well. I’ll stay within view.” True, she longed to ride through the forests, hunting and gathering, exploring this new world, yet Agrius’s caution was warranted. A new territory meant new boundaries to learn and even new vegetation. She’d benefit from the aid of a guide.

  Eione paced along the stone path toward the edge of the woods. The dusky glimmer of sunset pitched long shadows throughout the trees. She halted and inhaled, the earthy, rich scents of black pines and chestnut trees filling her nostrils. The forest stretched beyond her view, peaceful and quiet, an oasis.

  Yet she no longer suffered the urge to flee. To seek solace.

  This was her home. Her true home.

  She climbed the slight slope, the forest floor of crushed needles, packed earth, and moss cushioning her footsteps. Twisting around, she waved at the sentinels, ensuring she remained within their view.

  They bowed their heads, keeping their focus on her.

  No one had ever guarded her for the purpose of her safety before. It was an unfamiliar, yet enjoyable feeling, to know these men would protect her.

  That Agrius would protect her.

  Twigs snapped in the distance, followed by the thwack of rocks clinking together. Had an animal lost its footing on the side of a slope?

  Odd. She treaded forward, a few steps beyond the view of the guards, to inspect the origin of the sounds.

  Perhaps a hunter? Although, wouldn’t the guards have warned her?

  The hairs on her arms raised. Something wasn’t right. Animals didn’t make such clumsy noises.

  Humans did.

  Eione whirled around and gasped at the hazy form of a male. She grasped for her bow, but the male aimed the point of his dagger at her. “Don’t.”

  Cold sweat beaded along her spine. She knew that voice.

  “Myron?” My brother. One of the twins.

  He stalked forward, the shadows playing across his face and casting a sinister aura around him.

  This was not the time to succumb to fear. She straightened her shoulders. “You’ve encroached upon centaur lands. All I need do is scream and a dozen guards will surround us.”

  “Mayhap, but you won’t,” Myron sneered. “You’re too soft, Eione. You’ll return to your home and do as you’re told.” He waved the dagger. “You will not disgrace us. You’ll wed the Prince’s comrade and honor your family. We’ll overlook this incident. Attribute it to the beast poisoning your mind. A weak, easily manipulated female stolen from her family’s protection.”

  Bile rose in her throat. Being related to this barbaric male disgusted her. She’d never go back with him.

  Stall him. Keep him talking. Time enough to form a plan. The guards would seek her out any moment. “How did you find me?”

  “I followed Abiron.” He smirked. “I found it odd that our best tracker chose not to pursue the most obvious trail, and I was right. The traitor will be hanged.”

  No. She clasped her hand around her neck, but swallowed her protest. If she convinced her brother she’d return with him, he would ease his offensive stance, and she could strike.

  “Very well, I will—”

  “Eione!” a male shouted from the direction of the castle. Agrius.

  They both whirled toward the thudding of hooves. Myron switched his target from her and aimed his dagger at the entrance to the woods.

  She lifted a brow and suppressed a laugh at how foolishly he’d left himself undefended. He’d soon learn—she was the huntress. He, the hunted.

  Deftly, Eione shifted her bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed it at Myron. “Not so fast,” she snapped.

  Myron twisted to her, his eyes widening, then narrowing into hard slits. “Shall we determine who possesses the faster arm?”

  Agrius crashed through the forest, skidding to a halt. “Eione,” he breathed. Her name on his lips resounded in her ears, and she knew.

  Many things about Agrius might be unfamiliar to her, but his soul was not.

  He was her destiny.

  Mine.

  To her left, she glimpsed him, her magnificent, wicked centaur, but dared not peel her aim off her brother. “Actually, Agrius is the fastest. Morphos.”

  Hands flaring silver, she loosed the arrow at her brother just as the dagger struck the tree behind Agrius, embedding into the bark. In human form, he crouched beneath the blade.

  Her aim was better. Her arrow snagged in Myron’s shoulder, thrusting him to the ground.

  Agrius rushed to his side, transforming into a centaur and planting a hoof on Myron’s chest while Eione closed the distance.

  Her mate’s concerned stare skimmed over her, but she inclined her head. “I am well.” Myron screeched and spat at her as she tore a strip off his shirt, wrapping it around the arrow to secure his wound. “And he will live.”

  “I’m not so certain about that.” A tic pulsed in Agrius’s jaw. “He attempted to kill the son of Cheiron. My father would—”


  “No.” Eione shook her head. “He will be escorted to the border and his life will be traded for Abiron’s.”

  “Abiron?”

  She clenched her fists. “They know he helped us and they’ll hang him unless we deliver something they prize more than their bloodlust.”

  “Aye, you are right.” Agrius bent, placing greater pressure on Myron’s chest, and grated to the wheezing male, “Should you ever step foot on my lands again, I’ll slice one piece off your body each day for a year and feed you to my dogs.” Fury blazed in Myron’s glower, but Agrius seemed to ignore it, hauling her brother to his feet and escorting him to the guards.

  Eione followed, frowning as the guards dragged Myron away.

  Agrius strode to her and swept her into his embrace, crushing her against his chest. “My beautiful, brave Eione.”

  Unclenching her fists, she released a shuddering breath. She was glad Myron had accosted her in the woods. Now, she knew no other threats chased them. They’d trade his life for Abiron’s and all would be well.

  “Eione.” Agrius’s rich timbre sent shivers cascading beneath her skin. He swung her in his brawny arms, spinning her in a circle before placing her on her feet and claiming her mouth.

  Moaning contentedly, she drew back, smiling at him. “How was your meeting?”

  “Excellent.” He flashed her a devious grin. “We have my Father’s blessing and Oreius has the flask.”

  His father’s blessing. “Wonderful.” Joy tingled down to her toes, but halted at Agrius’s second revelation. “Will he use it?”

  He shrugged. “I know not, but the burden is relieved from my shoulders. We have done all we can for my brother.”

  “You’re a good man.” She brushed her fingers along his cheek.

  He entwined his fingers with hers. “My family has accepted you, and I crave nothing more than to claim you as my mate, but I must ask, and you must answer me truthfully, with no doubts in your heart.” Squeezing her hand, he perused her eyes, those depths so earnest and sincere. “Eione, will you bond with me and become my wife and mate?”

  Joy enclosed her heart and she rose on the tips of her toes to whisper against his mouth, “Yes, Agrius. I am yours.”

  ***

  Agrius couldn’t hold back the growl rumbling in his chest at Eione’s declaration. Three hundred years he’d lived with the certainty he’d never take a mate.

  In truth, he’d been waiting for her.

  For Eione.

  The castle grounds were hardly the place to claim his mate. Though his staff would undoubtedly enjoy the entertainment.

  At last, he allowed his horse to follow his instincts, and he scooped Eione into his arms, carrying her to his chamber.

  Dusk had fallen, the pink and orange glow from the setting sun casting beaming rays across the room. He set her in the middle, curled his finger beneath her chin, and tilted her face to his.

  Trust and affection reflected in her eyes and his chest inflated. This beauty had chosen him.

  Mine.

  He withdrew a blade from his belt and lifted it between them. Her eyes flashed with uncertainty. “Easy lass, the blade is for me.”

  The wary spark switched to confusion, so he explained, “During the bonding ceremony, you will slice across my arm, along the bonding mark, and place your claim on me.”

  She nodded. “I can do that.”

  “After, we shall be mated. I will cherish you for the rest of my days, until both of my hearts stop beating.”

  “Well, I’d best not loose any arrows into them again, then.” She flashed him a devastating smile.

  He chuckled and crouched to set the blade on the wooden floor. “I’ve never unleashed my beastly side with anyone.” His nerves fired, sending a tremor through his hands. He so badly wished to please her.

  She placed her hands on his shoulders. “I trust you. I choose you, Agrius, centaur and man.”

  As he rose, her hands slid down his chest to the belt at his waist.

  “Don’t make me regret my choice, centaur.”

  “Aye, lass, you will not.”

  Agrius groaned while she loosened his breeches, the garment falling around his knees. He stepped out of them, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it from his shoulders.

  Patiently, he stood before her, nude, allowing her to explore him. Her hands glided across his abdomen, up to span his shoulders, and down his back, returning to his front.

  He allowed her exploration because, soon, he’d unleash the passion of his wild nature upon her, and in that moment, there’d be no gentle caresses or leisurely kisses.

  Once he claimed her, she’d be at his mercy.

  “You are so beautiful,” she hummed, airy.

  “Nay, sweetling, ’tis you who steals my breath.” He closed the distance between them and loosened the stays of her bodice, baring the creamy skin of her shoulder. As he feathered his lips across her silken flesh, her muscles quivered beneath his kisses.

  “How did you know Myron’s blade would miss me if I performed the morphos?”

  She laughed. “He’s a poor shot; he’d aim for the largest target on your body, your centaur flank.”

  “Ah, not unlike some wench I know.”

  She punched his arm. “You’re lucky you have two hearts and I had only one arrow.”

  “Nay, lass,” he murmured against her shoulder, “I am fairly certain you pierced both of my hearts that day.” He braced his forehead to hers. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, not to your family, not to anyone. You are so much more than my mate. My cherished companion, my perfect match. I love you, Eione.”

  Her lips parted and tears sparkled in her eyes. “And I love you, Agrius.”

  He crushed his mouth to hers, claiming her body and stealing her breaths. His greedy hands ripped away her clothes, baring her to the moonlight.

  Tonight, they were far more than a centaur and a Lapith.

  Their love transcended their worlds, uniting them.

  Two souls born to separate races and destined to become one.

  She shivered, yet he sensed, not from modesty. Her hands were as demanding as his, roaming his body in possessive hunger.

  He turned her around, her back to his chest, and they fell to their knees. He held her right hand in his and they positioned his tip at her entrance. Together.

  As one, they guided his cock inside her, him gently thrusting his hips forward and her easing her thighs apart to welcome him.

  She was tight and untried, but he coaxed her nub with his left hand, and she relaxed, allowing him to drive deeper and break through her barrier.

  Inch by succulent inch, he claimed her, bonding not only their bodies, but their souls.

  “Eione,” he groaned as he sank inside her, burying himself in that velvety softness. A band of fire flamed across his upper left bicep, demanding to be quenched. Soon. He nipped tender bites along her shoulder and stroked his fingers across her bud.

  Agrius shifted backward on his heels and she settled into his lap, their bodies joined while she adjusted to the size of him.

  Her tight sheath clamped around him and his control threatened to snap. Yet he gritted his teeth and forced his body still. If she’d been anything but an innocent maiden, he wouldn’t have been able to restrain the wildness of his urges.

  Heaviness brimmed in his ballocks, the instinct to spill his seed inside her undeniable.

  “Now, Eione.” He seized her right hand and placed the dagger’s handle into her palm. “Cut me and make your mark on me, sweet Agrotere.”

  Her breath shuddered from her body, but Eione was no stranger to a blade. She slashed the edge across his upper left arm and he howled in ecstasy.

  Not pain, but soothing relief flooded his body and his hips jerked backward, driving forward to slam into her core while his essence burst from his body in unsteady jolts of rapturous bliss.

  She cried an airy pant of pleasure, her sex fisting around him and her body rocking against his.

 
; Chests heaving and bodies slick, the scent of their union mingled in the air. The raw passion of their mating drained their bodies of strength and they collapsed to their sides together, still joined. Agrius thrust his hips against hers, driving deeper, not yet ready to relinquish this euphoria.

  Eione was his bonded mate, and everything was right in the world.

  He swept a damp lock from her neck and pressed a kiss to her feverish skin, nuzzling the spot between her neck and shoulder. “Mine.”

  She wriggled her hips, pressing her lush bottom against him. “Mine.”

  His shaft stirred, not yet sated.

  With Eione as his mate, he doubted any part of him ever would be again.

  ***

  Eione struggled to catch her breath, but Agrius stirred, his hips rolling into hers. The centaur hadn’t yet had his fill.

  Moaning, she twisted in his arms and, keeping them connected, draped her leg over his so they faced each other. She traced the hard edge of his jaw with her fingertip and switched her inspection to his arm, trailing his firm muscles. “What does the script say?”

  He squinted at the scrolling etched across the thin black band. “Your name, my love. In Old Centaurion. Forever shall you be a part of me.”

  “Oh, I rather like that.” She chimed a laugh. “Now, all of those jilted females will know you’re mine.”

  “Was there ever any doubt?” He nuzzled his nose against hers, brushing her cheek. “There are no jilted females, Eione. Only you.”

  “Is that so?” She skimmed her hands across his decadently brawny shoulders and down to sink her nails into his backside. “What would you tell them if there were?”

  “Simple.” He undulated his hips forward and stroked his length inside her. “That you are the most…” Grunting, he thrust once, twice.

  “Yes?”

  “Vexatious,” he droned, pumping between her thighs, “headstrong, and daring female I’ve ever encountered.” He claimed her mouth before she could counter him, and then wrenched his lips off hers, grinning wickedly. “And that you’re all mine and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

  “Careful, centaur, or this vexatious, headstrong, and daring female just might fire her arrows into both of your hearts.”