The residents of Halcyon filled the dining hall. But not Essa. No, the dastardly mate-thief had yet to escort her back. While Nazrin stirred his fork around on the plate in front of him, his scrutiny never left his cabin.
The seamstress Cassiopeia delivered the dresses he’d commissioned and awaited her inside. He’d determined it best to let her aid Essa in dressing.
In truth, he’d not trusted himself to keep his hands from undressing her.
He’d surrendered the hope of his mate joining him for the evening meal, but eventually her slim form unsteadily meandered toward his cabin.
The tight knot in his gut began to unwind. Give her time. Give her space. He chanted the mantra in his mind and prayed if he repeated the words enough, his raptor would listen.
Hadn’t worked yet.
Half an hour later, the two women glided to the dining hall, arm in arm. Good. Cassie would make an excellent friend for his mate.
They retrieved their meals and sat across the hall from him. He stilled while Essa’s perusal wandered toward him. While the pulsing of her heart raced. As a predator, his hearing homed in on patterns of respiration and heart rates. As her mate, his audition fixated on hers.
Did fear quicken her pulse? Had the myrman corrupted her against him? Hundreds of insecurities shuffled through his mind.
He refused to lose her. She was the one reason he still drew breath. The only reason he still wanted to draw breath.
Essa is mine, his raptor screeched.
He clenched and unclenched his fists, talons emerging and retracting. Damn them all.
Essa was his.
***
“Hungry, milady?” The two males across from Essa chuckled. Heat rose in her cheeks. She’d been so ravenous, she’d inhaled her meal in a few ungraceful bites. Covering her mouth with her hand, she cleared her throat.
“Oh, shush, you two.” Cassie sent them an admonishing tsk and draped an arm about Essa’s shoulders while the two myrmen stood and saluted them.
“Apologies, ladies.” The darker-haired of the two males, Irvin, winked. He tilted his head toward the center of the square, where a band picked up a lively tune. “Cassie, may I have this dance?”
“Why, yes. Calder, why don’t you dance with Essa?” Cassie sent a short jab into Essa’s ribs.
“Ouf!” She rubbed at her middle. “Oh, no, please. I can’t dance.” Despite her new friend’s pointed glare, she shook her head. Cassie sashayed away, arms linked with the two myrmen.
She wasn’t a great dancer even in her sea form, and she didn’t dare try on human feet. While the other diners at her table joined in the dance, she observed Cassie with envy. She was tall and graceful, as Essa had always longed to be.
More people joined, the band blared even louder, and shouts of appreciation roared through the square. A crowd formed a circle around the dancers, clapping in rhythm to the music and cheering them on.
Lyres and flutes played energetically while the dancers spun and stomped. Men swung their partners through the air and women twirled about them. The dance seemed intricate and yet no one performed the same steps. They swayed together, one with the music.
A warm hand landed on her shoulder and she jolted.
“You’re not dancing?” Nazrin’s intense stare swept across her. Her skin flushed in response, her body traitorously leaning toward his.
“No.”
“Come with me.” He held out his hand.
Essa blinked at those long, exquisite fingers. Had she imagined how his touch affected her? Did she dare try again to find out?
“Come dance with me, Sirena.”
“No. I can’t dance,” she emphasized, so as not to offend him.
He bent and purred, as though uttering a delicious secret, “You can with me.”
She quivered at the tingling of his breath on her neck, the warmth of his body so close to hers. “No, I can barely walk. That,” she pointed to the dance floor, “is far beyond my abilities.”
He snatched her hand and pulled her to her feet. Instinctively, she pressed her other hand along the hard muscle of his chest and braced against the wave of sensual heat cascading across her skin.
“I won’t let you fall,” he murmured.
“Perhaps not, but you shall regret this.” She laughed at the assured smile on his face. He had no notion of the peril he was in as her dance partner.
Instead of leading her to the dance floor, Nazrin wound them behind one of the structures where the energetic tune was softer, but loud enough to dance to.
With expert precision, he placed her left hand on his shoulder, her right clasped in his. He wrapped one arm around her waist and tugged her closer.
“I’m not sure—” He cut off her protest with a long, graceful glide across the meadow. She didn’t have time to reflect as he guided her actions, and somehow her feet found the right places. She didn’t trod on his feet, nor did she stumble.
Nazrin twirled her at arm’s length; she released her trepidation and laughed.
A sly quirk to his lips, he spun her into his arms and drew her close. Distracted by the nearness of him, she didn’t register the lack of solid ground beneath her feet until she detected the whoosh of his wings.
Essa gasped and latched her arms around Nazrin’s neck, her face pressed into his shoulder. The air stuck in her throat, so she couldn’t even manage an objection. Or a scream.
Her eyes clamped shut and her body froze against his. She counted each labored inhalation, clinging to this male she barely knew.
Would he drop her? Then fly away, laughing?
No. She shook herself. This was Nazrin, the male who’d saved her life, twice. There were more inventive ways to kill her, she was sure.
Her mind calmed while his gentle hand rubbed slow circles across her back. These weren’t the actions of a sadistic murderer. As they hovered, the steady beating of his wings pulsated in her ears, soothing her.
Prying her eyes open, she dared a quick glimpse at the ground. Her focus blurred in and out as she observed the meadow beneath them. The inhabitants of Halcyon were in miniature, like a child’s dolls.
She tilted her chin up. Above them, the stars sparkled in the cloudless sky. The moon was full and its luminescence lit the scenery. In the distance, the lake’s surface was smooth like glass, acting as a mirror and reflecting the thousands of twinkling lights.
The view was spectacular. In the safety of Nazrin’s arms, her fear vanished. Relaxing her arms, she raised her face to his. The scenery below was beautiful, but he mesmerized her. Did her heart always have to beat with such ferocity around him? She hoped his hearing wasn’t that acute.
Despite the stunning backdrop, Nazrin’s stare was fixed on her, searching.
For what? He didn’t guess at her allegiance to Apollo, did he? Suddenly, Kai’s warning shot into her mind. Don’t trust him. “Why didn’t you tell me who you are, Lord Nazrin?” she blurted the accusation.
“ ’Tis no secret.” He stiffened. “Besides, you didn’t ask.”
“True, but still, why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugged. “Not everyone enjoys being associated with their parents.”
Heat crept into her cheeks. How much did he know about hers? Well, she was determined to even the imbalance of information. “Why don’t you? Did your father lock you away and treat you no better than a prisoner?”
Some dark sentiment flickered across his eyes before he blinked it away. “No, Sirena, but tell me about your parents.”
She lowered her voice to a whisper. “My mother fell for my father’s charms. He abandoned her to die, alone, with nothing but the amulet for comfort. And then he couldn’t stand the sight of me, so he imprisoned me where I wouldn’t ever bother him.” Essa had been too young to remember, but if not for her aunt rescuing her, she’d still be in that prison. She owed Cassandra everything. Taking her place as Pythia was part of her recompense. And renouncing romantic attachments was integral to becoming the Pythia.
Right. She set her jaw. Don’t fall for him.
His gaze whipped to hers and he winced. An instant later, his expression was a stoic mask.
She frowned. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Let’s dance.” He snared her hand.
Together, they glided through the night sky. The stars formed a shimmering background and the tinkering of soft music below them drifted upward.
“Crow!” someone shouted at Nazrin from below. Ripples of laughter erupted as other couples joined them in the sky.
“You didn’t presume to commandeer the entire night sky forever, did you?” a grey-haired male jested. He shot into the air, clasping hands with a winged female Essa guessed to be his wife.
Nazrin chuckled. “It’s all yours. Enjoy.” The sky filled with dancing pairs, so he flew them to the ground.
She sighed. Their dream-like moment was over.
Or was it?
With possessive hands, he enveloped her waist; she was reluctant to loosen her grip on his shoulders, too. Not only because her head spun and her legs wobbled.
Before she discerned any sentiment in his features, he glanced aside and cleared his throat.
“It’s late,” he murmured. “You must sleep. Report to the archery range in the morning.”
The spell was broken; the magic drifted away on a wisp of cool wind. He led her to the cabin, yet didn’t follow her inside.
She twisted around to say goodnight, but he was gone.
***
“Release.” At Nazrin’s order, four arrows flew through the air, each one landing in the center of its target. Perfection. He demanded no more, no less from his men.
Today, from Essa.
He rubbed a hand across his jaw. Don’t fall for him. Gods, how he wished she hadn’t screamed that thought at him. Now, it haunted his mind. Did it mean she was falling, and yet feared doing so? Because of her past? He hadn’t heard that tale of Lord Nereus and her mother. Poor Essa.
One of his talons nicked his chin. Damn. He dabbed at the blood until the cut healed. Someday, he’d win her heart. He’d make her see not all males were like her father. Or his. Once she learned she was his mate, she’d also accept their destiny of immortality together.
She had to.
Nazrin beat his wings. “Again,” he ordered his men. Last night, he’d been close to scooping her in his arms, carrying her into his cabin, and devouring her.
It was a damned impossible position he was in.
He had to train Essa. That was his mission.
He had to win her as his mate. That was his Fate.
Somewhere in between, he had to secure the restraint his darker half kept thwarting. It would come to naught if he didn’t fulfill his end of their bargain. If Essa satisfied the darker side of the prophecy, his soul was forfeit.
Any chance at redemption would be lost, not just for him, but for her as well.
Curse Hades. It wasn’t fair. He yearned to embrace her, not as he had last night. Those platonic, innocuous brushes of their fingers sent his raptor screeching. Nay, he craved to hold her like a male claiming his mate. With the heated caresses which would make Essa realize she belonged with him.
“Again,” Nazrin called to the four winged males who waited for his command. Arrows didn’t sail through the air, so he glared at his men. Instead of being focused on him, they were distracted, studying the figure that approached.
Essa. Already she made this challenging task insurmountable. He’d have to strive harder. To train her harder. Faster.
And worry about courting her after.
He cleared his throat and his men jolted, resuming their tasks and loosing their arrows. After sending a curt nod in Essa’s direction, he swept his arm toward the arrows and buckets, and then pointed to an unoccupied target.
She chose a small, light bow and, with a bucket of arrows in her left hand, proceeded to her station. Though a dozen targets dominated the arena, Nazrin’s group was the only one occupying the space at the moment. Usually, Kyme, Arsenius, and Thereus trained their warriors alongside his. Those boisterous Amazons, pyrates, and centaurs. He grimaced in recollection of their taunting boasts and loud displays. The quiet peace this morning was actually rather pleasant.
Essa stared at the bow, observed the other archers, and once more regarded her hands.
Bloody hell. His raptor half screeched in victory as Nazrin’s resolve sailed into Hephaestus’s forge and vaporized in the inferno therein. He had to touch Essa. It was how he must teach her.
Ha. The bonding is too strong to deny. He shook his head at his raptor’s gloat, but didn’t bother to refute him this time. His hands trembled with anticipation, so he squeezed his fists to control the tremors. By the time he reached her, his hands had calmed. He positioned Essa facing the target and ignored the expectant smile on her lips. Dismissed her luscious scent and her pliant, feminine form while he pushed her shoulders back, twisted her body, and fit the bow into her hands.
He stalked behind her and placed his hands atop hers. Nazrin nocked an arrow, performing the actions as he narrated, “Close your eyes, then open them. Concentrate on the middle of the target, pull the string back, and loose the arrow.”
It soared straight into the heart of the red circle.
“Good.” Straightening, he pried his hands off hers, forcing himself to step aside. “Empty your bucket.” He strode away, leaving her to practice alone.
Alone, but not unsupervised. Nazrin paced, hands clasped behind him, while they completed the drill.
These four males had arrived at Halcyon two months ago and, as such, would soon complete their training. He intended to conclude Essa’s at the same time. If she was capable of what Hades professed, her powers need not be learned, but unlocked. Fortunately, Nazrin possessed an extensive set of keys.
For the amusement alone, he’d arrange for them to retrieve her amulet. Fighting a cyclops would round out their training.
He closed his eyes and imagined appreciation lighting Essa’s dark malachite depths. In his fantasy, she’d swipe her tongue along her bottom lip, gratitude mixing with admiration. Her body would sway closer to his, both of them awaiting the moment when he’d take her in his arms. He’d claim those coral lips, drink the nectar she offered, and press her against his stiffened cock to show her—
“I’m finished.” Essa’s clear voice chimed from across the archery range.
He scowled at the interruption to his musings, halted his pacing, and glanced at her target.
Hell, no. Nazrin raked his hand down his face, blinked, and cursed again. None of her arrows had landed in the center of her target. Instead, they formed an intricate design—a picture of a starfish.
“What is this?” he snarled, pointing at her target. “You’re here for target practice, not to learn embroidery,” he spat out the last word. If he failed to convince her of the gravity of the coming War, he’d never get her trained in time. He’d never have the chance to court her.
Both of them would burn in damnation.
“I fancied it would amuse you.” She crossed her arms over her chest, plumping her succulent breasts.
His talons elongated, his dark half as frustrated as he. He closed his fists to hide the talons. “War isn’t amusing, Sirena,” he ground through gritted teeth. How could he make her grasp how dire their situation was? “What will you do when you’re facing an army of thousands? Decorate them to death? Every arrow is precious.” He seized one from a bucket and waved it in the air. “Each must find its mark—maim or kill the enemy.” He tossed his head.
“I can,” her jaw tightened, “I can do that.”
Had the world been a different place, he’d keep her gentle, soft. This new world wasn’t for the weak. He wouldn’t lose her to it. “Prove it.” Nazrin handed her the arrow, stalked to the target, and whirled to face her. “Shoot at my heart.”
Her mouth fell open, green eyes wide. “No, you’re mad.”
“Celso,” he commanded one of his men, “shoot at my heart.”
Without balking, the male aimed and loosed an arrow straight at Nazrin’s chest.