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?”

Alone with him, there was no need to continue smiling. “It’s him.” Her throat tightened. “He’s here and I have no idea why.”

“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.

The midday sun shone hard upon her, warming her, while the snow beneath her feet swirled around her ankles. This place was less than paradise for one such as herself, but the giants were content here. They had to be, since they couldn’t escape their prison. While this place had once been their chosen home, now, they were unable to leave. Ever since Commander Kalais’s mate had opposed the sun god and met her untimely end. So, the giants were cursed here, too.

Many times, they’d attempted to transfer the nymph trees to where their warm gardens grew, but their attempts had been futile. The trees would not be moved.

The cold bite of frosty air stung her cheeks and nose, burning a path through her lungs. Airla trekked across the vast snowy field toward the shelter of the mountains. The moment his presence appeared behind her, she sensed him. How could she not? Yet she kept her focus ahead.

A new kind of wind twirled about her ankles, trying to latch on, but she ensured it couldn’t. Finally, it relented, and crunching footsteps thumped behind her.

“Will you not speak to me? Give me a chance to explain however it is you believe I’ve wronged you?”

She stiffened at the torment in Lycus’s voice. He was a man now, no longer a lad, and yet they still played games. Well, she’d had enough. “Fine, explain to me why you made the decision to curse my family and condemn us?” Whirling around, she clenched her fists at her sides. Her mouth dropped open and she gaped at the formidable centaur standing before her. Surrounded by giants, she was accustomed to massive males, but Lycus was an entirely different sort of beast. His robust human half joined at the waist with an equally strapping horse body, creating an impressive frame against the brilliant fields of snow. Shadows of blue and gray danced across the sleek, polished white of his horse hide.

One shaggy front hoof stomped, the vibration traveling up her legs. “Firstly, I did not curse you.” He mimicked her tense stance, crossing his arms over his brawny chest and revealing tempting glimpses of muscled, bronze flesh through the tears in his clothing.

Ugh. Airla mimicked him, stamping her foot to shove aside her carnal hunger. “You don’t consider this a curse?” She thrust out her hand toward the endless miles of white nothingness. “We are a tree people, which means we require a temperate forest to survive.”

The muscles in his thick neck flexed. “I never intended to send you here.”

She tossed up her hands. “I thank you for your good intentions. They keep us warm at night.”

“Like the giants do?”

Ooooh. He flamed her fury. “No, they do that much, much better.”

“Well,” he leaned forward, those white eyes gleaming, “mayhap they should have moved your trees inside their warm, cozy castle.”

“You thick-headed imbecile. Don’t you think we tried?” She gritted her teeth in frustration. “What does ice do when you push it too hard?”

He straightened. “It breaks.”

“No, Lycus,” she whispered in painful memory. “It shatters.”