Alone in his room, Maddor opened his hand to study his father’s dragonstone.
His father.
That knowledge pierced him like a lightning bolt. He still wasn’t sure how to handle it. All this time, he’d thought himself abandoned. Unloved. Had imagined a total bastard who’d screwed his mother and then left him to die.
Then Morgen had concocted a much more sinister tale of a bastard who’d rejected him, then killed his mother. In his mind, his unknown father had taken on an even more horrific persona.
Now he knew the face of the dragon who’d created him.
And a whole different story. One he’d never dared dream existed.
Not a bastard after all, if Falcyn’s lies were to be believed.
Part of him didn’t care. None of it mattered, and most likely every word out of his mouth had been a lie.
Either way, it damn sure didn’t change his past.
Yet …
I have a father who’s alive.
And a son.
He tried to get a handle on the moment, but none would come. Worse was the knowledge that he held a vital part of his father in his hand. A vital part of the world itself.
With this, he could destroy him.
Much like Excalibur, the dragonstone was able to take life and to give it. The power of it emanated and vibrated through his hand. Through his whole body.
This was rare, primal power. The kind that could take out Morgen and the whole of her Circle.
Forever.
With this, he could rule not only Camelot and Avalon, but the entire world.
All worlds.
And it was now under his control alone. I could rule everything and everyone.
“What you doing, dragon-man?”
He jumped at the singsongy accent of the Charonte demon he thought he’d left behind with his father. How the hell had she gotten into his room?
“Who let you in here?”
Shrugging, she approached him as if he were nothing to be concerned about. A foolish thing, since …
Well, he couldn’t really kill her. He wasn’t sure what, if anything, could kill her species. Those damned things were terribly hearty.
“Don’t nobody be telling the Simi no excepting for her akri, and you not Akri. You cute like Akri, but only Akri is Akri. No other exceptions are accepted by the Simi. Excepting for Akri-Styxx and then only sometimes … and maybe Akri-Bas. And sometimes Akra-Kat and Akri-Lexie.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Then gimme what you took and the Simi will leave.” She held her arm out with her palm open and tilted toward him in a very childlike gesture.
She was so honest and trusting. He couldn’t imagine ever being like that. His life had never leant itself to such.
Part of him was angered by it. Another, curious.
But he wasn’t dumb enough to act out against her. His survival instincts kept his temper in check and he decided the best course of action was to feign ignorance with her. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
She wagged her finger. “Yes, you do. ’Course you do. Now be a good boy dragon.” She pointed at the stone. “Akri-Falcyn is all upset ’cause you tookted his toy. He say he needs it and so I’m here to get it. ’Cause the Simi don’t want him sad. Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to steal? You don’t take what don’t belong to you! Now gibs it over.”
“What about my childhood he stole?”
Simi tsked. “Don’t be blaming others for you bad acts. Or trying to justify thievingness when it wrong, no matter how you slice and dice it. No need to even try for julienne fries. Or waffle cones neither. You know you didn’t make the stone ’cause you not a woman demon and you know you tooked it from your daddy’s pocket. Now gives it!”
“Or what?”
Pursing her lips, she cocked her hip and rested her hands on her narrow waist. “You really want to go there? ’Cause the Simi could use some barbecue. And dragon meat is most yummy. Just saying.”
Maddor started to tell her where to shove the stone and to continue denying that he had it. But the moment he opened his mouth to speak, the full pain of it all hit him like a physical blow.
All the years of his brutal childhood and his humiliating subservience to Morgen. All the times he’d wanted a kind hand to touch him. Someone to tell him he wasn’t what they said.
Now …
Overwhelmed, he choked on a sob.
Simi let out an anguished noise. “Oh no, Mr. Dragon Human. Did the Simi break you?”
Yes, but it was only his heart that was shattered as memory after memory tore through him. Even though he lived the majority of his life as a man, he’d never been treated as a human. Only an animal Morgen was afraid would piss her rug and chew on her favorite shoes.
Even now, he could see himself in the cage where they kept him. Hear the mocking laughter that was never far from the surface of his pain.
King of the mandrakes you might be, but never forget who holds your leash, boy! The hand that feeds you can quickly become the hand that ends you.
Maddor winced at the images that took turns assaulting him without mercy. He hated life. He always had. Every fucking heartbeat was nothing more than another chance for someone else to tell him how worthless he was. How much they hated him.
And his father thought a simple apology could rectify that. Yeah, right …
With a stricken expression, Simi sidled up to him. “Don’t be so sad, dragon-man. It okay. You see! Just ’cause you’re mad at your daddy don’t make him a mean, nasty dragon. Even the Simi can tell that he lubs you. You should talk to him.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t. I get the mad. I get the sad. But when you have a choice of someone willing to love you and being all by your lonesome, seems to the Simi that being loved is always better than being alone. My akri even forgibbed Akri-Styxx and Akri-Styxx forgibbed my akri. Akri-Styxx forgibbed me for killing him. If they could learn to be friends and to forgive, I know you can, too. After all, your daddy didn’t kill you.”
That was true, he supposed. “You make it sound easy.”
“It is.” She reached up to cup his chin and squeeze his cheeks. “I’m sorry. It okay. Didn’t mean to be a douchy. See? Easy, peasy with extra cheesy.”
He scowled at her deepened tone where she faked his voice. Damn, the Goth demon was charming.
Her frown melted to a sweet smile. “See! That’s all you have to do.”
But it wasn’t as simple as she made it out. “If I give it to Morgen, she’ll free me. And I can leave here.”
Simi made a peculiar sound, almost like a horn. “Will she? You sure about that?”
He cringed as Simi voiced his own doubt. Morgen wasn’t exactly known for keeping her word or for her integrity.
Screwing people over …
Lying when she could tell the truth …
That was definitely her forte. Hell, the bitch was known for going out of her way to screw others.
Literally and figuratively.
He clutched at the stone.
“Do the right thing, dragon-man. Gibs it back and apologize to your daddy. Makes it right so that he can love you and not feel all bad and gooey that he lubs you.”
The only problem with that? He didn’t know what the right thing to do was. Protect his father.
Or protect his own ass, since no one else ever had.
* * *
Medea felt horrible for Falcyn. All these centuries, she’d thought the worst thing in the world had been to lose her son. Watching Falcyn now, she realized that wasn’t the worst.
A living child who hated you was far more cruel.
Blaise and the others had gone back without them. Torn between her family and Falcyn, she’d decided to stay here in Camelot with him.
He needed her more.
Falcyn was alone and the misery in his eyes kept her by his side even though she knew she was needed in Kalosis. Besides, there was nothing she could do for her people without his dragonstone.
Her heart breaking for him, she pulled him against her and held him tight. The fact that he didn’t protest told her exactly how wounded he was by it all. He was weak, and she knew from Urian that it was a state this dragon wasn’t used to.
The least she could do was comfort him.
Closing her eyes, she breathed in the scent of him as she ran her hands through his hair.
Falcyn choked on his unshed tears and the swell of unfamiliar tenderness Medea awoke inside his dead heart. The dragon in him wanted to carry her away to his den and keep her there, protests be damned. Hence the legends of old about his kind. It’d been their loneliness and abject misery that had caused his species to kidnap mates and force them to their isolated lairs.
Yet he’d never done such. Never had he wanted to.
Until now.
As far back as he could recall, he’d been reclusive in a way no other dragon had. The only time he’d ever been weak had been after Hadyn’s death. Unable to cope with losing his brother, he’d allowed Igraine to seduce him for Morgen.
He’d deluded himself then. And he’d known it. He just hadn’t cared. Anything to keep from being alone with his guilt over his brother’s death.
Now he’d screwed up not only his life, but Maddor’s as well.
And Medea’s. Because of this, her people would die. Most likely her parents, too. Yet she didn’t curse him for being stupid or careless.
Rather, she stayed by his side.
The woman was so strange and made no sense whatsoever to him.
“Why are you being so kind to me?”
Medea let out a soft laugh. “No idea. I’m all kinds of stupid.”
Burying his face against her neck, he inhaled her sweet scent and shook his head. “You’re never that.”
“’Course I am. Otherwise I’d be gone already. Only an absolute idiot would be here in their enemy’s domain for no good reason.” Medea toyed with Falcyn’s belt. She really shouldn’t be with him now and she knew it. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to leave him and she didn’t even know why.
This felt right. She needed to be with him in his hour of need. To give him comfort when he had no one else he’d accept it from.
And she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Or her hands. It’d been too long since she’d felt like this. Since she’d wanted to be with someone.
And by the size of his obvious erection, he was definitely interested, too.
“What are you thinking, princess?”
Medea bit her lip as fear consumed her. “That I should be going.”
He gave her a lopsided grin. “I’d rather you stay.”
Taking a deep breath, she pulled his shirt over his head, then her own. “We are two entirely different species. This will never work out.”
Falcyn couldn’t breathe as she hesitated. Oh man, this really was cruel. “Don’t tease me, princess.”
With a slowness that was sheer torture, she unbuckled her belt and kicked off her shoes. He swore his heart stopped beating as he watched her open that belt, then slowly part her fly.
The way she wiggled her hips to slide her pants down hit him like a fist in the gut.
He expelled an appreciative breath at the sight of her naked body. She wasn’t skinny, but rather she had lush, full curves that were perfect and mouth-watering.
Medea knew she should be heading back to Kalosis to care for the others, but she couldn’t. She needed this time with Falcyn. It was an imperative urge she couldn’t deny. The entire world could burn for all she cared.
He hesitated before her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body. Smell the scent of his skin. It was all she could do not to step into the warmth of him. To press her body against his …
Frozen to the spot, she didn’t move as he bent toward her and drew a deep breath against her neck. He pulled back ever so slightly. “You smell like lilies.”
And he smelled like darkness and all masculine skin. Her breasts tightening at the thought, Medea turned her head and before she knew what he was doing, he lowered his lips to hers. She moaned at the decadent taste of him.
He cupped her face in his hands as his tongue hungrily explored every inch of her mouth. She shivered. This dark dragon lord certainly knew how to kiss. Her head swimming, she buried her hands in his thick, wavy hair.
Falcyn’s heart pounded as he tasted her lips. He drank in her passion and was lost to it. Lost to her. Between the sensation of her hands and the heat of his own needs, he was sunk and he knew it. He pulled back only a tiny bit to nibble the corner of her delectable mouth.
Growling, he dipped himself down so that he could pick her up and carry her away to a small cushioned alcove.
Medea felt a wave of giddy joy as Falcyn caressed her breasts. Every part of her burned for his touch.
And then he did what had to be the most tender thing a man had ever done to her. He wrapped his arms around her and just held her close with his head on her shoulder while he rocked with her. Something inside her shattered and melted at the feeling of being held like this … as if she were precious to him. His alone.
Falcyn closed his eyes as he reveled in the sensation of her warm, naked skin against his. Her breasts were pressed flat against his chest while her thighs hugged his bare hips. God, it’d been so long since he’d just had a woman hold him, and never had he held one so sweet.
Most of the women he’d slept with would be clawing at him by now, wanting satisfaction. But Medea merely held on to him as if they were something more than strangers. As if he were something more than a tool for her to use to satisfy her needs.
He pulled back to return to her lips before he took her hand into his and led it to the part of him that was craving her the most.
She nibbled at his lips as she gently explored the length of his cock with her graceful fingers.
“You are so beautiful,” he whispered against her ear.
Medea moaned as Falcyn rolled onto his back and pulled her against him. It felt so good to be with a man again. To be held, even if they were barely more than strangers. For some reason, he really made her feel beautiful. It didn’t make sense, but she did.
Wanting to please him, she straddled his hips before she slowly slid her body onto his.
He hissed before he bit his lip and lifted his hips to drive himself even deeper into her. The look of pure pleasure on his face thrilled her. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been this happy to be with her.
Unlike the others she’d been with, he wasn’t nervous at all. He was relaxed and calm.
Her equal.
Medea took his hand in hers and held it close. She understood that she meant nothing to him and that when this was over, he’d probably walk away. The thought hurt and yet she still couldn’t bring herself to stop this.
She didn’t know why, but she really wanted to be with him, even if it was only temporary.
Falcyn sighed as he teased her lips while her pale hair fell around them in a soft curtain. Oh yeah, this was what he’d needed in the worst sort of way. No woman had ever felt better than Medea did. She rode him slow and easy, at least in the beginning. But after a few minutes, she quickened her strokes.
Sensing what she needed, he rolled over with her until she was beneath him.
Medea arched her spine as Falcyn leaned back and thrust himself deep inside her. He moved faster and faster, spurring her pleasure on until she couldn’t take it anymore. When she came, her orgasm was so fierce that she screamed out from it.
Fire shone in his steel blue eyes as he smiled down at her. He moved even faster until he joined her in that perfect moment of bliss. And he let out a fierce cry of pleasure. While he shuddered in her arms, she cradled him with her whole body, and she drifted back from the rippling edge. He felt so wickedly good while she ran her hand over the muscles of his back.
She hadn’t felt so at peace in a long, long time, and for that she was truly grateful. Overwhelmed by the feeling, she pressed her cheek to his so that she could feel his prickly whiskers against the smooth skin of her cheek.
Completely content, Falcyn laid himself against her body while his racing heart slowed its frenetic beat. For the first time in years he felt a deep-seated peace and he didn’t even know why. There was something magical about this moment. Something magical about her.
He lay on top of her, unwilling to move while she played with his hair and ran her other hand along his spine. “I’m not too heavy, am I?”
“Definitely not,” she said dreamily. “I like the way you feel.”
Growling as another wave of desire hit him, he wiggled his hips against hers, driving himself in a bit more. “I like the way you feel, too.”
Medea smiled at him as he traced small circles around her breast. “I don’t ever want to get up from here.”
“Neither do I.” But no sooner had he uttered those words and lifted himself up to kiss her, then he felt the air around him stir.
Unsure of who would dare invade his domain, Falcyn manifested his clothes on his body, and held a cover to shield Medea while she quickly followed suit.
He stepped away from her to confront the newcomer and he was grateful that he hadn’t hurt her when he withdrew so quickly from her body.
A few feet to his left, a shadow began to materialize. Shock caused him to freeze as he met Maddor’s hostile gaze the moment his son solidified in the cavern with them.
For a full minute, no one moved. Not until Maddor came forward and, to Falcyn’s utter surprise, handed him his dragonstone. The heat of it singed Falcyn’s palm.
His jaw slack, he glanced from it to Maddor. “I thought you’d given this to Morgen.”
Maddor let his hand linger before he withdrew into the shadows. “I know better than to put my trust with her. With you…” He shrugged. “At least kill me before you betray me.”
Falcyn clenched the stone in his hand as he met his son’s wary gaze. “I won’t betray you. Ever. Bastard I might be, but I’m ever loyal. Even to those I want to put through a wall.”
Instead of comforting him, those words brought even more torment and sadness to Maddor’s eyes. “I’m not used to having anyone catch me when I stumble.”
Simi tsked as she appeared behind him, and then pushed him forcefully with both hands.
Losing all balance, Maddor stumbled into Falcyn’s arms. Instinctively, he held his son against him.
“There now!” Simi grinned. “Sometimes we all just needs a bitty push.” Satisfaction shone in her dark red eyes. Her feathered wings flapped.
Falcyn would have snorted at her, but right then … all he could do was hold his child.
For several seconds Maddor was tense and rigid in his arms.
Until he melted to embrace him back. “You really didn’t abandon me?” His voice was scarce more than a hoarse whisper.
“I tried everything to get to you. Damn my brother for it. Morgen had me locked out completely.”
“I still hate you.”
“I hate me more. Trust me.”
Maddor ground his teeth against Falcyn’s shoulder before he patted him on the back and took a step away.
Falcyn didn’t miss the way his eyes glistened in the dim light. Clearing his throat gruffly, Maddor forced himself to look stern. “You need to get out of here before Morgen realizes that I’m not bringing her the stone. You don’t want to have that here in her realm. She’ll tear you apart.”
“Come with me, then.”
“Can’t. I’m locked in here.”
“Maddor—”
“It’s all right,” he said, stopping Falcyn. “I’m used to it. Take the stone and help as many as you can with it. If Morgen uses that to release Mordred, all hell will descend on the world again. As bad as I hate her, I hate that little prick more.” He handed Falcyn a small, round amulet that was engraved with a dragon.
“What’s this?”
“Key to the portal. With that, you can leave this realm.”
Falcyn clenched it in his hand. “I will return for you. I swear it. And I will demand Morgen’s head if she argues.”
He smiled sadly. “I won’t hold my breath. But it’s nice to have someone finally offer.” And with that, he opened a portal. “Think of your home and it’ll guide you to it.”
Simi stepped forward to hug Maddor. “You a good dragon-man. The Simi will help them dragons get you free! That a promise. And the Simi never breaks her word.”
“Thanks, Simi.”
Falcyn waited until the women went through before he jerked Maddor into his arms. “I love you, Maddor.”
Xyn would be proud of him. He hadn’t choked on the words at all.
As expected, Maddor didn’t repeat them. He merely pounded him on the back, then shoved him through the portal.
Hard.
But as he was sucked through the dimensions, he heard his son’s faint voice. “Love you, too, you worthless bastard.”
Falcyn wanted to return to his son, but it was too late. The vortex sucked him straight to Sanctuary. Back to the room on the third floor where all preternatural creatures were drawn to because of the shields here that the bear family had put up to ensure no human would accidentally be exposed to their supernatural powers.
Colt Theodorakopolus stood up as soon as he saw Falcyn entering. Tall and dark-haired, the were-bear Sentinel was a regular on staff who worked as a bouncer and played guitar for the house band, The Howlers.
“Ah, it’s you.” Disinterested, Colt sat back down and returned to his e-reader.
Falcyn grimaced at him. “Where’s Medea?”
He jerked his chin toward the door and reached for his beer. “She headed off to see Max as soon as she came through.”
That thought caused his stomach to shrink. What in the world could she possibly want with his brother?
Unless …
Ah, shit. He knew that answer without asking.
A bad feeling went through him. He could only think of one reason Medea would seek out Max.
Terrified by the mere thought of the shit she would start, he teleported to Max’s attic room to find Medea tangling with Max’s Amazon wife, Seraphina.
Yeah, just what he’d figured.
“Hey!” He grabbed Medea straight up in his arms and pulled her away. She kicked her legs in the air, but strangely didn’t kick at him.
When Sera started forward, Max grabbed her to keep her from reengaging in the fight. “Thank the gods you’re here.”
With Medea still thrashing in his arms, Falcyn growled at his brother. “What’s going on?”
Titian-haired and Rubenesque, Sera gestured at Medea. “She went to attack Max!”
Falcyn arched a brow at Medea. “Seriously?”
She stopped squirming and waited until he set her back on her feet before she answered. With an indignant tug, she straightened her clothes. “Payment due you for what he did to you and Maddor.”
It took everything he had not to smile at his wild Apollite. Only Xyn had ever protected him in such a manner. And before he could stop himself, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
Max gasped.
Medea hissed at how good her dragon tasted. Fisting her hands in his shirt, she wished they were alone. A good fight always got her blood up, and that combined with his scent was all she needed to want to nibble on him all night long.
Sadly, he swept his tongue against hers, then stepped away to face his brother. Yet she didn’t miss the fact that he wedged himself between her and them.
She kept her hand on his muscular back as she realized that the only thing he really had in common with his brother was the fact that they were both exceptionally handsome. However, Max was as fair as Falcyn was dark. Max’s blond hair framed chiseled features and a pair of silvery gold eyes.
Yeah, he was nothing like Falcyn.
At least not until he cocked his brow into an expression that was identical to the one Falcyn used whenever he was irritated. Now she saw the similarities.
As Max glanced at his wife, she had a new epiphany about the dragon.
Holy shit.
Literally. No wonder the two dragons were so different. It all made sense now.
“Max is part Arel.” The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.
All three of them turned to gape at her.
“What makes you think that?” Falcyn asked.
She gestured at the beast. Aside from the fact that he looked like one … “He reeks of their stench. Just as I know you’re part demon—and something a lot more treacherous. You can’t mistake it. He bleeds their blood. It oozes from him. Everything about him betrays his breeding.”
A tic started in Max’s jaw. “We don’t speak of my father. Ever.” He narrowed his gaze on Falcyn. “Just as we don’t speak of his.”
Maybe not, but at least she finally understood why Max had done what he had where Maddor was concerned. Stupid Arel bastards. All of them. They were nothing but sanctimonious prigs.
Worse? They would never put their blood first. It wasn’t in them.
Rolling her eyes, she tugged at Falcyn’s shirt. “We have to get Maddor out of Camelot.”
“I know. But first let’s see to your parents.”
Max sputtered. “You intend to help the Daimons? Are you out of your mind? They’re Daimons!”
Falcyn shrugged. “My stone. My rules.”
“They’re Daimons,” Max repeated.
Falcyn leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “And you’re the one who personally caused all the Were-Hunter races to be damned by the Greek gods to an eternal war against each other, Dragonbane. So do not lecture me on right and wrong. Especially not where they’re concerned. I do what I want, your rules be damned.” And with that, he took Medea’s hand and flashed her from Sanctuary to Kalosis.
Something Medea thought was a good idea until they manifested in her father’s great hall in the center of the Daimon kingdom.
No sooner did they appear in front of Stryker’s empty bone throne than a loud, thunderous roar went up. Never had she heard such a clamor. And definitely not here. This was where everyone came when they first journeyed to Kalosis. It was set up so that her father could monitor them.
It’d been that way as far back as anyone knew.
Apollymi always sat in the center of her stone garden, where she kept watch over the world of man by way of her black pool that mirrored the world of man.
Today though, everything changed.
The moment she and Falcyn materialized before her father’s seat, Apollymi was there in her full goddess majesty. Her white-blond hair whipped around her thin body. Her long black gown was plastered against her as the silent winds whipped through the hall and sent every Daimon there scattering for cover. Her swirling silver eyes turned bloodred as her wrath contorted her beautiful face into the visage of ultimate rage.
“How dare you!” she growled.
Falcyn didn’t so much as flinch. Rather, he faced the ancient goddess without fear or anger. “I’ve come with good intention and in peace, Braith. There is no ill for you in my heart.” He held his hands up with his palms facing him to show her that they were empty.
Still, she didn’t back down. “How can I trust you?”
“How can I trust you, dearest aunt? But if I’d wanted to hurt you, I’d have struck you in the heart … where you’re the weakest. And I wouldn’t have done it here in your stronghold. But out in the world where you have no reach.”
That succeeded in calming her. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“I don’t fear you, Bra. Honestly, life is a burden I can do without. But I’m not my father, and I would never do to you what he did to me. I came here only to help.”
The wind finally died down.
Her eyes returned to their familiar swirling silver as her hair settled back to her shoulders. By its own accord, her hair coiled into an impeccable and intricate braided chignon around her face. “It’s hard to trust a former enemy.”
Falcyn arched a brow at that. “I was never your enemy.” That had been his parents. Never him.
She met Medea’s gaze. “You brought him here?”
“I did.”
“Then I hold you responsible for his actions. You’d best pray that he behaves.”
Falcyn scoffed at her bitter tone. “Same old Braith. I see time hasn’t mellowed you any.”
“How could it? When all I have is bitterness to keep me company?”
“Then we have much in common, don’t we?” He inclined his head to Medea. “Where are your parents?”
“In bed, I would assume.”
“Take me to them.”
Without a word, she led him down a long, dark hallway.
Apollymi followed after them, as if she didn’t trust him in her domain, at all. It’d be funny if it didn’t piss him off.
Falcyn glanced at her over his shoulder. “Afraid I’m going to abscond with something?”
“You might. Never could trust a dragon. Last time one of you was here, he pissed my rugs and cracked the ceiling.”
“I’ll try to contain myself.”
“Please do so, as I have no desire to redecorate with anything other than your entrails.”
Falcyn growled as Medea opened the door to a bedroom and he saw the large tester bed where a woman who bore a striking resemblance to her lay in sickened misery. The moment the door opened a man shot to his feet to confront them.
Then he hit the floor where he, too, writhed from his own illness.
“Papa!” Medea rushed to his side to check on him.
With a fierce groan, he forced himself up so that he could face Falcyn. Though he didn’t pose much of a threat in that condition. Worst thing he could do was vomit on him.
“Relax, Stryker. I’m here to assist.” Falcyn moved toward Zephyra, who was so weak she could barely open her eyes. No wonder Medea had been terrified. He doubted they’d have made it another day in this condition.
She’d been right. Apollo had sent one hell of an illness for them.
As it was, Stryker was forced to sit back on the bed.
With Medea’s help.
“How long have you been gone?” His voice was weak.
“A day.”
Stryker swallowed. “Are you ill?”
“No.”
“Then you shouldn’t have returned. You should have stayed where the illness couldn’t reach you.”
“I couldn’t leave you sick like this.”
Stryker reached for his wife. “She’s been so strong until about an hour ago.” A tear ran down his cheek.
Falcyn pulled the cover back to see an angry rash that covered Zephyra’s pale skin. The blisters had opened to festering wounds. “I won’t let her die. Don’t worry.”
For the first time, he felt Apollymi approach him with something more than hatred or suspicion.
She actually put her hand on him with a tenderness that was completely unexpected. “Can I help?”
“Take Medea from here so that she can’t be infected while I work.”
Nodding, Apollymi held her hand out toward Medea. “Come, child.”
Medea hesitated. “Falcyn—”
“Please … I can focus better if you’re safe.”
As much as she hated to go, she inclined her head and let go of her father’s hand, then followed Apollymi from the room.
Chewing her lip, Medea hesitated at the door to look back and listen as Falcyn chanted quietly under his breath. He cupped his dragonstone in his hand and turned it over and over. A powerful glow from the stone shot between his fingers to illuminate his face with shadows.
Apollymi pulled her from the room and closed the door.
“He’ll heal them, right?”
“Yes, I think he will.”
Then why was her gut so tight? Why did something feel so wrong? She was home now.
Yet …
Medea was so unsettled.
Apollymi hesitated as if she heard her uncertainty. “Are you all right, child?”
“I don’t know.”
Apollymi glanced back toward the door and sighed. “I should have known Apollo would do something like this. He was ever a treacherous bastard. They all were.”
She caught the heavy note in the ancient goddess’s voice. “They?”
“The Greeks. Upstart bastards. The whole lot of them. I blame Archon for their rise. Lying piece of shit. They all should have been drowned the moment they first crawled into being.”
Archon had been the king of the Atlantean gods, and Apollymi’s husband. “Why did you marry him if you hate him so?”
“He lied to me. I thought he was my Kissare returned to life. But he wasn’t. Too late, I learned it was a trick played on me to keep me under control.”
Apollymi’s eyes swam from unshed tears. “Too often we let our hearts lead our heads, and ignore signs that are sent to warn us of the truth. I wanted my Kissare so badly that I saw his face when it wasn’t there. And then when he was back, I’d been so badly burned that I didn’t believe in him or anything else, anymore. And especially not in something as cruel as love.” She drew a ragged breath. “The saddest part, Medea? Our worst hells are always made by our own bad decisions.”
And that was what terrified her the most. “How do we know when we’re making a bad decision?”
Apollymi laughed bitterly. “That’s the cruelest blow of all. We don’t. It’s only when we look back that we see clearly where we went wrong.”
“So is it wrong to love?”
A crystal tear rolled from Apollymi’s eye and froze to her flawless cheek. “That was the question I asked when I was told that my love was the cause of a war that should never have started. Not once. But twice.”
And with that, she headed for her garden, where she could mourn for her son whose birth had been cursed and who’d been torn from her arms by the prejudices and vindictiveness of others.
Life was cruel. Medea knew that better than anyone. It made no sense. There was no rhyme. No reason. Misery spared no one. Injustice baptized everyone equally, without prejudice or mercy. Sooner or later, death would come calling. Pain would stalk all hearts.
That was the nature of the beast.
Yet, she still had hope and she didn’t know why.
It made no sense to her. Truly, it didn’t. If anyone had a reason to lie down and surrender to the utter despair that was life, she would be the one.
And still …
She blamed Davyn for this stupid optimism that wouldn’t perish or go away.
And speaking of, she wanted to go check on him. If for no other reason, she suddenly felt a deep compunction to kick his ever-cheerful ass.
Yeah, that would definitely make her feel better. His neck in her hands …
In fact, every step that carried her closer to his room … and his throat, brightened her spirits. Along with the thought of beating him senseless.
As soon as she reached his door, she knocked on it. “Hey, Dav?”
Without thinking, she pushed it open, then drew up short as she saw that he wasn’t alone.
He was with a woman. Which was really, really, really strange.
Because Davyn was completely gay. In every sense of the word. And not only was Davyn naked in his bed with the woman on top of him.
The unknown woman was happily feeding from his thigh. In fact, she was so giddy, she was smacking.
Dumbfounded and horrified, Medea started to back up and leave them in peace. But just as she did so, she caught the slight, barely audible squeak from Davyn.
“Help me,” he breathed.
Yeah, that sounded more like a safe word or phrase.
Medea clutched at the doorknob, unsure if she should intervene or not. “Davyn?”
The woman looked up and hissed at her with a pair of glazed, feral eyes. Blood dripped from her chin and fangs.
Pale and weak, Davyn didn’t seem to be enjoying it. Rather, he appeared more like someone turning gallu.
Okay, this was all kinds of wrong.
“Get off him, she-bitch!” Medea rushed forward, intending to kill his attacker.
As Medea grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her back, Davyn caught her hand in a surprisingly strong grip to keep her from making a lethal strike.
Stunned, she gaped at him. “What are you doing?”
The woman broke free of her grasp and scrambled for the door.
His breathing ragged, he shook his head. “You can’t … kill her.”
“Why ever not?”
“It’s Urian’s Phoebe. Kill her and he’ll never forgive you!”