Urian froze the moment he entered Xanthia’s home and she spat those hate-filled words at him as if they were fiery grenades launched from a parapet and meant to incinerate his entire being. Forcing himself not to react, he took a deep breath. “She is.”
Xanthia hissed and bared her fangs at him. “Why did you lie to me?”
His anger pitched and churned at her unwarranted attack. It wouldn’t take much for it to explode at this point. Xanthia had no idea how tenuous a ground she tread upon. No one assaulted him for his mother. Hellen of Delphi was sacrosanct to him and he would die defending the woman who birthed him—even against Apollymi herself.
“I didn’t lie, Thia. You didn’t ask. My mother is Greek. I am not. Now if you’ll excuse me …” He left before she pushed him further and this became the ugly situation that experience had taught him invariably followed such heated exchanges.
You should have told her about your mother.
It would have been the prudent thing to do. No doubt some asshole had run to her with the news, just to spread the gossip of it for no other reason than to wreak havoc with his screwed-up life. He’d never understood that urge that others had. To tell half-truths and pretend to know something when they didn’t. To make up whatever bullshit they wanted for whatever sick game they’d contrived for the sake of drama. As if they had some kind of inside information on a given topic when the only ones who knew the truth were those who were the actual participating parties.
The rest were just dumbasses.
“Urian!”
At Xanthia’s call, he paused in the middle of the street and turned to wait for her to catch up to him. She’d swept her blond hair up in tiny braids that teased her ears and caressed her neck. A style she knew he found fascinating. Inviting. One that left him hard with longing for those sweet, succulent curves.
Even though she was just barely three years older than he was, and in spite of the fact that Apollites aged quicker, somehow she still managed to appear younger than he did.
His mouth watered for a taste of the blood he could hear rushing through her veins. But the sting of her condemnation was raw and bitter inside his heart. He’d had enough of it in his short lifetime that he wanted no more.
He was already done with this world and the judgment people gave him.
Breathless from having to run to catch up to him, she struggled for composure and licked her plump lips. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you or lash out. The news caught me unawares. Given what had happened in my village and how you protected us, I never expected to hear that you were partly human. I assumed you hated their race as much as I did.”
A tic started in his jaw. “No one can help where they come from, Thia. Only where they go.”
“I know. Can you forgive me?”
His heart softened the moment she batted her lashes and gave him that sweet, beguiling look of hers. Probably because no woman had ever done that before. Unlike his brothers, who were used to being flirted with, he had no defenses against it. He was hopeless where she was concerned.
And horny any time she came near. Damn his hormones. He couldn’t control himself. She knew it even more than he did.
“Of course.”
Rising up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his. That melted the last of his defenses.
Urian growled at the sweet taste of her tongue sweeping against his and the sensation of her warm curves pressed against his body. It reawakened his hunger instantly.
“Come home with me, Urian. I’ve sent my children over to my sister’s so that I can properly feed you.”
That was all she needed to say to finish wrapping him around her pinkie as he imagined peeling her peplos from her body and sliding himself deep inside her while he drank until he was drunk from her blood. The more she fed him, the hungrier he became for her. It was a madness really.
And he was happy for her that she had family here. Her sister had shown up among the survivors of her village. Sadly, Davyn’s hadn’t.
Before he could speak a word, she took his hand and led him back to her small cottage, which wasn’t very far from where Davyn and Paris lived.
With every step that took him closer to her bed, the ardent hunger mounted inside him. He knew from his mother that their cravings were very different from what humans felt whenever they were hungry. Part of the Apollite curse was a ravenous madness unlike anything imaginable, one that required a partner to be on their guard lest the feeding end up a murder scene where one of them ripped the throat out of the other.
No doubt that was Apollo’s malicious intent, too. The burning hunger that begged their species to devour each other. To possess and ravage as violently as possible. Maybe the humans were right and they were more akin to animals than sentient beings.
Sometimes he did feel as if the demon inside him were the one in control more than the human. And he hadn’t even gone Daimon yet. He could only imagine how much worse he’d be once he converted.
It was a fear that plagued him constantly. That he would become trelos and uncontrollable. What if he lost himself to that madness and never returned?
They lived so close to the edge anyway. Danced with madness on a nightly basis. He knew it wouldn’t take much to nudge anyone over the edge of that precipice.
It was terrifying to know what one was capable of. To be born a killer who preyed in order to live. He could deny the monster inside, but only for so long. The day was coming when he’d have to embrace that beast.
And he knew it.
As soon as they were inside her modest cottage, Xanthia shut the door and locked it. There was no light because monsters didn’t need it. They could see in pure darkness.
She untied her belt and let it fall to her feet.
Urian’s breath rushed out of his body in sweet expectation, then caught as she reached for the fibula on her shoulder. She unfastened it so that her entire gown dropped to the floor.
His throat went dry at the sight of her unadorned beauty. Monster or not, she was perfection. Her pale skin glistened in the darkness and beckoned him with the promise of a lot more than just a succulent meal.
With a gentle smile, she approached him and reached for his baldric and sheath. “So bashful and handsome.”
“I don’t want to scare you.”
That was what came easiest to them.
Laughing, she nipped at his chin while her fingers nimbly worked the leather until she freed him from his armor. Piece by piece, she dropped it to the floor, where it landed with a dull clank. “I never realized how much of this a warrior donned for battle.”
All the better to kill with.
She grimaced at his vambrace. “Nor how heavy it was. No wonder you’re so muscular.”
He smiled as she fumbled with the straps of his hauberk, which was heavier than regular armor. Xyn’s scales weren’t like forged armor. They were more pliable and stronger. And a lot stronger and more durable. “That you won’t be able to lift, akra.”
She arched her brow at his term of respect. “Oh?”
“Mmm.” He pulled it off, over his head, and held it out to her.
With a frown, she gripped the shoulder.
Urian only released a portion of the weight to her and yet it was enough to cause her to stumble forward.
“Oh dear gods!”
He grinned as he placed it carefully on the floor. “Told you.”
“How in the name of Archon do you walk about in this?”
He shrugged. “I’ve been wearing armor since I was a boy. I think nothing of it.” Besides, he adored Xyn’s armor. It reminded him of her and her care for him. He felt invincible in it.
When he moved for his greaves, she knelt down to unbuckle them. Grinding his teeth, Urian growled at the sensuous way she stroked and massaged his leg while she freed him from the scales and leather. Then she nipped his calf with her fangs, dragging her nails down the length of his well-muscled leg.
His head spun. Chills ran up and down his flesh as every nerve ending sprang to life in the wake of her caresses. He’d never felt like this. His powers sizzled and arced. It was as if lightning danced through his body. For the first time, his demon was quelled and quiet.
Tamed.
Urian reached out for the wall to steady himself while she slowly explored his body with her lips and tongue. He’d foolishly thought nothing could feel better than what she’d done to him the other night.
He was wrong.
Those thoughts vanished a moment later when she slid her lips over the tip of his cock.
“Oh dear gods,” he breathed.
She laughed, and that vibration shook him to the core of his entire being.
Closing his eyes, he quickly bit his palm so as not to embarrass himself again with her. The throbbing pain brought him back from the edge.
It also distracted Xanthia. As soon as the scent of his blood hit her, she lifted her head.
Urian hated to take her away from her current task, but he cupped her cheek so that she could lick and suckle the blood from his bleeding fingers. She swept her tongue over his flesh, heightening his pleasure all the more. Harder and harder, she sucked at his fingers.
Unable to stand it, he lifted her up and pinned her to the wall. She sank her teeth into his shoulder at the same time he entered her. They both cried out in ecstasy.
“That’s it!” Crying out in pleasure, she dug her nails deep into his back and yanked at his hair. “Harder, Urian! Bite me, now!”
He sank his fangs into her throat. She came with an ear-piercing scream that caused her to thrash in his arms. He growled deep in his throat as she thrust her hips against him ever harder, while her body shuddered in his arms.
And when he found his own release, he realized that he’d never again be able to go back to the stale blood his father had been bringing him.
Not after this.
For that matter, he’d never again judge his father for his numerous affairs where his mother was concerned. Now he understood why his father had sought Apollites and Daimons to feed on. There was no way any of their people could take stale blood given the way Apollo had meant for them to eat. This was primal and raw.
More than that, it was divine.
Yet even so, his brothers were another matter. Their wives were Apollites and could feed them. It was unforgivable that they would deprive their wives of this while they sought nourishment from another. How dare they betray a true heart. That was cruel beyond measure.
Urian would never understand why his father condoned their behavior. If he could have one person who’d cherish him like that …
He’d never break her heart. Never take for granted such kindness. Just as now. Grateful beyond measure to Xanthia for sharing her blood and body with him, Urian cradled her in his arms and tucked her head beneath his chin. “Did you get enough to eat?”
She nodded. “You?”
“Aye … for now,” he teased.
Laughing, she kissed him. “I have a bath warming. Come and join me.”
Weak and at the same time stronger than he’d ever been before, Urian followed after her to a room in back.
He savored the sight of her crawling into the bath first before he joined her in the large bronze tub that glistened in the dim candlelight. The hot water sloshed over the sides as he slid in and sighed in contentment.
Completely sated for the first time in his life, he leaned back against the edge and allowed Xanthia to bathe him.
The one thing about Apollites and Daimons, they didn’t bleed after their feedings. Their saliva held a coagulating agent that instantly stopped and healed their wounds. Unless it was a really deep or major injury, they never had to worry about cuts.
She sat back in the gilded tub to stare at him with a perplexed frown. “Are you all right?”
Urian sighed heavily. “I fear I shall never be the same.”
“How do you mean?”
Pulling her up so that she lay over his chest like a blanket, he kissed her lips and savored the sensation of her wet body sliding against his. He dipped his fingers down in the water so that he could stroke her and delve deep into her velvety softness.
She sucked her breath in sharply.
“You’ve shown me Katateros, Thia. How can I ever be content with Kalosis now?”
Her smile was radiant as she gripped the sides of the tub and slid herself onto his cock. His head spinning, Urian let out a deep, satisfied breath as she slowly began to ride him again.
Leaning his head back against the lip of the bronze tub, he watched her through hooded eyes while he toyed with her perfect breasts. Water splashed over her body, and against the sides, more spilling over the edges. But she paid it no heed as she moved even faster against him.
“Warrior you may be, kyrios, but tonight I think I’m the one who has conquered you.”
Urian wrinkled his nose in denial of something he knew was impossible. “Nay, m’edera.” He used her favorite endearment that meant precious baby. “Not conquered. Merely tamed me a bit.” He nipped at her neck to take a small snack.
Gasping, she clung to him while he fed a bit more.
Until he glanced down and saw something that turned his stomach.
Urian pulled back to frown at the fresh bite marks on her arms that he knew didn’t belong to him. Anger flared deep at the sight of them there.
“Thia? Who do these belong to?”
She glanced down, then cast him a taunting grin. “Are you jealous?”
He tightened his grip.
“Urian, you’re hurting me and you’ve no right to even question me on this subject.”
He released her immediately. She was right. He didn’t. But that didn’t stop the brutal sting of betrayal. Nor did it change the fact that he couldn’t stand the thought of another man feeding with her. The mere thought of it moved him to homicide.
Glaring at him, she rubbed her arm. “If you must know, it’s from my children.” She held her arm out. “Look closely and you’ll see the sizes are small. Child-sized.”
With a frown, he fingered them much more gently. Then he felt horrible over his actions and even worse for the malicious thoughts he blamed his brothers for. Because they were faithless, it didn’t mean everyone else was. “You’re right. I’m an ass.”
“Aye, you are.”
Kissing her arm, he allowed her to dunk his head beneath the bathwater.
He came up sputtering. “Can you forgive me?”
“Maybe.”
Urian wiped the water from his eyes. “Then will you marry me?”
She froze. “Pardon?”
He brushed his hair back from his face to grin at her. “Not the most romantic proposal, granted. But most sincere.” He moved closer to her until he had her pinned against the opposite edge. “I want to be your only source of nourishment, mi kyria. Let me protect you and your children.”
She bit her lip in indecision. “And what is your intent for the future?”
A most important and dire question for all Apollites given the brevity of their lives and what all of them would have to decide on their twenty-seventh birthday. If one partner went Daimon, then he or she could no longer feed the other. It would force the other spouse to either go Daimon with them or choose infidelity to eat, as to feed from a Daimon would instantly cause an Apollite to turn into one, too.
“I plan to go Daimon before my twenty-seventh birthday. But you are older than I am. So the choice on that falls to you first. For myself … better the predator than the prey. Always.”
Her features softened. “Then I will marry you, Urian Kleopas. And I shall accept your protection, for myself and my children.”
How strange that those words left him with a peculiar hollowness inside. He should be elated. He’d finally found someone who would feed him. A beautiful woman of good reputation who’d allowed him inside her body.
Yet for all the ecstasy and physical pleasure, he felt as if there should be something more.
He knew it in that instant. This wasn’t what the great poets wrote about. It definitely wasn’t the insane passion that had driven Paris to give up the luxury of their father’s home to live in squalor with Davyn.
It wasn’t the friendship he had with Xyn.
And perhaps that was a good thing. Perhaps it was all the cursed grandson of Apollo deserved or could hope for.
Either way, it was a necessity that he no longer had to worry over.
You should be relieved.
Instead, what he felt was more akin to a stomach illness. And he had a peculiar urge to run to Xyn and hide there.
But that was ridiculous. So what if he was settling? At least he had someone who would feed him. He should be grateful beyond measure. It wasn’t like women were lining up to offer themselves to him.
Like they’d done for Paris and his other brothers.
No one wants you. They never have.
Not wanting to think about that, Urian cleared his throat. “I should go and let my solren know. He’ll need time to prepare our wedding celebration.”
“When are you thinking we should marry?”
“We’re Apollites. Sooner rather than later, don’t you think?”
“Sure.”
“A fortnight hence, then?”
Xanthia choked. “You’re serious?”
“I’m already quite old for marriage, and your daughter will be nearing a marriageable age before much longer. As the granddaughter of my father, she’ll have a far greater standing in our community the longer we’re married at the time you begin seeking husbands for her.”
“I can’t argue with any of that.” She smiled. “Very well. A fortnight hence.”
Kissing her, Urian climbed from the tub and dressed. Then he went to Apollymi first to tell her of his coming marriage.
Urian hesitated outside her dark garden. Especially since he could hear her light sobs through the doors. He hated whenever she sat alone at her mirror, with her small black pillow in her lap, weeping for her son she could never hold.
He ached for her lonely pain. The goddess of destruction wasn’t without a deep-seated misery that the world had carved into her heart. No one should hurt this much. Especially not alone.
Not even a goddess.
She didn’t deserve what had been done to her. Not once, but twice. They had taken everything from her. Both her sons—Monakribos and Apostolos. And the only man she’d ever loved. Kissare.
They had duped her into believing Archon was Kissare reincarnated. A cruel, cruel prank that had crushed her to the core of her being once she learned that it had only been a power play made by Archon so that he could have authority at her expense.
As alone as he felt, it was nothing compared to Apollymi’s pain. Her betrayal.
For all she’d given to the world, she truly had nothing and no one.
Not even the Daimons and Apollites she’d saved gave her her due. They quickly forgot the debt they owed this great lady who had spared them the worst fate imaginable. But for her, none of them would be alive now. Or have any hope for the future.
How soon people forgot the kindnesses shown to them, no matter how great they were or the sacrifices made. What they owed to another. Yet they never let go of any grudge, no matter how petty. Nor any wrong ever done them, no matter how inadvertently.
“Akra?” he called lightly through the doors.
She drew a ragged breath and instantly composed herself so that he wouldn’t see her misery.
Yet he knew. He always saw what she kept hidden. That was his gift.
And his curse.
“Enter.”
He used his powers to open her doors and walked slowly toward her perch. Xedrix narrowed his glowing gaze at Urian, but Sabine ignored him as the Charonte female always did. Yet she watched him with an alertness that said she wouldn’t mind adding him to her menu should he do anything that displeased her mistress.
Apollymi placed her red sfora down on the pillow and turned to meet Urian’s gaze. “What can I do for you, ormourpido?”
“I have a favor I should like to beg of you, akra.”
That caused one brow to arch. “If you ask me about freeing that dragon one more time—”
“Nay, akra. It’s not that …” Obviously, he’d aggravated her about Xyn so much that it’d become a sore topic for the goddess. So he quickly changed the subject to what had caused him to disturb her tonight. “I’ve asked Xanthia to marry me.”
She dropped the sfora.
Xedrix ran to catch it.
Apollymi rose up to float above them all. She wasn’t standing; she hovered in the air, over the black waters. “Pardon? Do you love her?”
Unsure of her mood for once, he swallowed hard before he answered her honestly. “Nay, akra. It’s … a mutual benefit.”
“I see.” Her eyes began to glow red. “And this favor you would have of me?”
More than a little nervous at her peculiar act, Urian took a deep breath. “Do you remember what I said to you when I was a child?”
“Aye, but you said many things to me when you were young. To which one are you referring now?”
The one that haunted him constantly. The one that weighed on his conscience the heaviest. And it was the one he couldn’t go into marriage without addressing first.
“About children, akra. I meant what I said. The last thing I want is to father a babe I have to watch die. Or one I have to stand over when he or she goes Daimon and becomes a soulless killer. Hunted. Hated. Can you please make it so that I will never father any while I’m an Apollite?”
Her jaw dropped at his request. “Do you understand what it is you’re asking me, Urian?”
“Aye, akra.” His gaze went to the pillow she’d dropped on the ground. “I know the pain that haunts you. The pain that drove mi solren to bargain away his very soul. I’ve killed enough treli here, and seen enough Daimon conversions and Apollite deaths to know well what fate awaits me. I don’t want that for my children. It’s no way for anyone to live. Please spare me your heartache, akra. I beg you for that mercy.”
More tears glistened in her eyes as she lowered herself to stand before him. Reaching out, she drew him into her arms and kissed his forehead. “Then it is done, my precious one. You are sterile.”
Strange, he didn’t feel any differently. But if she said he was sterile, he would trust in her. “Thank you, akra.”
“Don’t thank me, Urian. Not for this. Because I’ve taken from you the single greatest joy I’ve ever known.”
“Nay, akra.” He glanced down at the tearstained pillow. “As you said, it’s all about how you look at things. What you took from me was the greatest heartache and pain you’ve ever suffered.”
She inclined her head to him. “As you say, m’gios. Life is all about perspective.”
Xanthia froze as she felt a chill rush down her spine. It was one she was intimate with and the one she hated more than anything. Yet she knew better than to let it show, for that would be a death sentence. Bracing herself, she forced a false smile to her lips.
“My lord.” She curtsied before the ancient god.
Disguised as an Apollite, the god of sorcery and the blackest craft glanced around the small room with a sneer. “What a wretched hovel they’ve given you.”
Honestly, it was better than the death sentence his pantheon had bestowed upon her and her children. All things considered, she’d much rather have the cottage.
Besides, experience had taught her that the ancient god didn’t want her to speak. So she kept her gaze on the floor and her thoughts to herself while he pranced and preened about in front of her. And she didn’t miss the irony that the god of sunshine certainly brought none whatsoever to her life whenever Helios came near. Indeed, she’d be hard-pressed to decide who was gloomier—Helios or Apollo.
He stopped short and turned toward her. “How far have you progressed in my plans?”
“Stryker’s son has proposed to me.”
“Good girl! Which son?”
“His favorite.”
For once he seemed pleased. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises …” He smiled. “Does he love you?”
“Not yet, but he will.”
His gaze intensified. “Excellent. You’ve proven yourself worthy. So I will give you what you’ve asked. You want to walk in daylight again … help me to remove Apollo from my pantheon. Destroy his bloodline and I’ll see to it that you reign at my side as the new queen of the dawn.”
“And what of my blood-hunger? How am I to eat if there are no more Apollites?”
“You remove Stryker and his wretched brood from existence, child, and I’ll hand-feed you the ambrosia and nectar you need for immortality, myself.”
He moved to stand in front of her. “It’s a simple exchange. I want that repulsive upstart removed from my pantheon and you want your life back. Give me what I deserve and I’ll give you your dreams. All you have to do is remove Apollo’s bloodline from this domain where I cannot reach him without causing a war.”
Helios smiled coldly. “A simple exchange and we’ll both be happy.”
Xyn shivered as she felt a presence she hadn’t felt in so long that at first she thought she must be imagining it. Surely, this was some forgotten nightmare.
Her blood went cold … er.
Turning, she was stunned to see her father in the shadows of the falls, where Apollymi would splinter him into oblivion if she caught him invading her domain. “What are you doing here?”
Helios swept an appreciative gaze over her human form. “But for the red hair and green eyes, you are the very vision of your mother … before her curse.”
“And again, I ask why you’re here. You have one heartbeat before I alert my goddess and see you well met for your treachery.”
“I doubt that. If Apollymi comes, I’ll simply tell her you let me in. How else would I have been able to get through her portal without her knowledge?”
Xyn sucked her breath in sharply at his threat. She’d call him a liar, but it was the type of betrayal he and his kind specialized in. The Greeks were bastards that way, and none more so than the Titans. Hence why Zeus had castrated his own father after his father had murdered his own child.
There was nothing she’d put past them.
“How did you get in?”
“Like I’d tell you my secret?” Helios reached to touch her chin.
She recoiled from his touch as if he were a viper. And indeed, that was how she viewed him. “You’ve never been a father to me.”
“True, but then you’ve never been useful before.”
A chill went down her spine. “How do you mean?”
His gaze went past her to the grove where Apollymi’s sacred tree grew. “The ypnsi of the Haxyn tree. There’s something I want you to do with it.”
She wanted to tell him that she wouldn’t help him. But she knew that she didn’t have the power. He’d blackmail her into it. So long as it didn’t harm Urian, she’d go along with his plans.
And that made her hate herself all the more.
Just please don’t let Urian find out about this …