Worse, with his elevated acute Apollite senses, he could actually hear his father grinding his fangs.
Their father cast his sneer around every Daimon in the room and saved the worst of his censuring for Paris and Urian. “Now will one of you please, in the name of Apollymi, explain this outburst to me?”
“Urian started it, Solren.”
His father let out a long, exasperated breath. “Am I insane or is that not the most uttered phrase by my sons?”
Urian scoffed. “What can I say, Solren? I am the grandson of Apollo. I spread sunshine in my wake everywhere I go.”
With a deeply vexed growl, his father pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose as if trying to suppress a massive headache. “By the gods, boy … Forget Lyssa and Ananke. It’s Koros you make sacrifices to, and serve with your every breath. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were the god of insolence incarnate. Are we sure Hybris didn’t swap you out at birth with my real and true son?”
“Perhaps she did. It would explain so much.” Damn it, Uri. Keep your mouth shut! He didn’t know why he had such a hard time riding herd on his tongue.
It was a reckless beast, and traitorous to boot. Worse even than his brothers when it came to getting him into trouble. And even less help when it came to getting him out of it.
If he was smart, he’d cut the thing out before it did any worse damage.
And the look on his father’s face said he was about one syllable away from losing a tooth or vital organ.
“Paris … I think you should take Davyn and retire for the coming day. You’ve both had a long night. No doubt you can use the rest.” He lowered him to the ground.
“Aye, Solren.” He saluted their father, gathered Davyn, and left.
Irritated, Urian let out a deep breath and boldly folded his arms over his chest, as if bored by it all.
His father shook his head slowly. He dropped Urian without warning.
Instead of sprawling, Urian caught himself with his powers and landed in a predator’s crouch. That caused an audible gasp to go through the crowd around him and his father’s jaw fell open.
Head up and alert, in a perfect pose, Urian rose to his feet and swept a challenging stare around the room.
Bring it on, bitches.
All of them underestimated him. They always had. Because of his age, they tended to forget that he was the son of a demigod and a priestess. So while his mother was human, she’d been gifted with her own set of powers by Apollo. For whatever reason, Urian seemed to have inherited more of those abilities than any of his brothers.
So be it.
As his father had noted, he was an insolent bastard who’d suckled venom from the teats of Hybris and the Neikea and had been raised here in this Stygian pit on the knee of Apollymi with demons for friends.
Really? What had he expected? A well-adjusted, happy child? That ship hadn’t just sailed, it’d sunk in the harbor, never to be seen again.
“What am I to do with you?”
Urian shrugged. “Take me out and leave me for the dawn?”
“Don’t tempt me.” A tic started in his jaw.
Of all my sons, you are my greatest pride and the one who scares me most. I pray whatever it is that drives you to such courage and madness doesn’t one day drive you to suicidal stupidity.
Urian scowled as he heard his father’s voice in his head. “Pardon?”
“What?”
He glanced about the room, unsure if he’d heard what he thought he had. “I … I thought you said something.”
“I’m only debating a punishment that might actually work on you, as I have yet to find anything that curbs your stubborn will.” His father grabbed a handful of his hair and jerked him into his arms. He crushed him against his chest in an excruciating embrace. “Don’t make me have to mourn you, you worthless son of a bitch.” He growled those harsh words in a whisper in Urian’s ear so that no one else could hear them. But it wasn’t the words Urian heard. It was the emotion beneath them that he felt.
His father loved him. Just as he loved all his sons.
But Stryker was a warrior first and foremost. One raised beneath the iron fist of a cold, uncaring progenitor who’d given him nothing save cruelty and the back of his hand. Unlike them, Stryker had never known the loving embrace of a mother’s arms. Never had her sing to him whenever he’d been ill or had her rock him to sleep at night. She’d never laughed with him or tickled him to bed.
While the others here might curse them for their human mother, Urian knew the truth. They were blessed to have been wrapped in her loving ways. There was nothing about his childhood he would have changed except for the curse their grandfather had placed on them.
Or the hatred that Apollo had put in his father’s heart long before any of them had been born. He would give anything to spare his father that misery that tainted his smile.
“S’agapo para poli, Baba.” Urian whispered the words he knew his father seldom heard from any of his boys … I love you very much, Daddy.
His father kissed his cheek. “Love you, too. Now off with you.” Roughly, he shoved him away in a gesture that would seem rude to any onlooker who hadn’t overheard their exchange or been privy to the way his father’s hands had trembled with fear while he held him.
Yet for all his father’s gruffness, Urian knew the truth. He was cherished and loved.
It wasn’t just their blood that bound them as family. It was their loyalty and devotion.
Urian …
He glanced over his shoulder as he felt his summons.
Careful as always, he teleported to the doors of Apollymi’s garden. No one was allowed to flash themselves inside her garden. For that act of blasphemy, the goddess would react violently and blast him into pieces.
So he gently opened the double doors and walked into her garden with a humble gait. Neither of her Charonte moved or acknowledged his presence in any way as they flanked her where she sat on the edge of her marbled pool. The magical black waters were especially bright tonight.
Urian bowed low before her.
Only then did she move. “You fed.”
Not a question. A statement that said she knew somehow what he’d done with Xanthia. Though why he was surprised, he didn’t know. She was a goddess, after all.
“I did, akra.”
Apollymi swirled her hand through the black water. “Have you any idea how much it pains me that I cannot see the future, Urian? It was such a bone of contention with me, that my love made sure that my harbinger … my son, would have that gift and be my sight for me.”
“Apostolos?” he asked.
She didn’t speak often of her second-born son, who’d been cursed by the Atlantean gods and murdered by Apollo.
Much like her firstborn, Monakribos, who’d been betrayed by her siblings and murdered years after they’d killed her lover, the pain of Apostolos’s death was too raw. So she seldom picked at that wound lest it begin to bleed anew.
“Aye. And it pains me that I don’t know how this woman you’ve been with will impact your life. Does it scare you?”
“Nothing frightens me, akra.”
A smile toyed at the edges of her lips. “You know, Urian, in my pantheon bravery—Akeon—and stupidity—Koalemos—were twin gods who walked hand-in-hand everywhere they went. For it was oft said that in order to be brave one must first hold a degree of reckless stupidity.” Her gaze and tone darkened. “Be careful where it leads you.”
“I will be vigilant, akra.”
“Good boy, Urian Kleopas.”
He frowned. “Pardon, akra?”
“Haven’t you heard? It’s what many have begun calling you. At least behind your back. Does it bother you?”
“To be called my father’s glory?” Urian paused to consider it. On the one hand, it was a bit irritating. Bad enough his brothers mocked him for being his father’s pet.
He didn’t exactly relish the thought of others joining in. Yet on the other ha
nd …
“Nay, akra. I strive to honor my father, in all things. My only hope is to one day be half the warrior he is, and to live my life as nobly as he has. In service of his people and his family. His goddess.”
In the whisper of a breath and without any warning, she materialized directly in front of him so that she could cup his cheek in her icy cold palm. It spread chills over his body. “That is the trick of all life, Urian. Perspective. In all things. For you cannot change what people say about you. Only how you feel and react to their endless gossip. Whether to be offended and hurt or to embrace it and rise. Sage is the one who chooses the latter.”
The coldness of her touch began to burn his flesh as those swirling silver eyes darkened to a vibrant red. “Never lose sight of who you really are, m’gios. Be true to your own heart. For there is a power inside you far greater than that of your father. One day, you will learn to embrace that side of yourself. That is when childhood really ends. The day we cease to walk in the shadow of our parents’ protection and we stand alone to face the full light of our lives, on our own two feet. Most fall and stumble. Some to never rise again. Others will eventually find their standing and relearn to walk. And a small handful …”
Narrowing her gaze, she smiled at him. “That tiny few will rise up with a blinding fury in their gut to the very heavens. They do not just stand on their own two feet, Urian. They soar on mighty wings. I see your father in you, pido, and it scares me.”
“Scares you, akra? Why?”
She blinked and released his face. “He was a stubborn bastard.”
Her word choice confused him. “Was?”
“Is,” she said quickly, clearing her throat. “It’s been a long night, ormourpido. You need your sleep. For with every dawn that comes, the day will find new ways to try and break you.”
Not sure if he should trust that answer, Urian bowed and left, but he didn’t return to his father. There was only one place he wanted to be right then. Apollymi was right. It’d been a long, long night.
And he wanted comfort.
There was only one place he ever found that peace.
Making sure no one was paying attention, he carefully made his way to Xyn’s bower.
“Sarraxyn?”
She tsked in the darkness. What am I to … Her voice drifted off. You’re hurt?
That worried tone never failed to bring a smile to his lips. He didn’t know why. Only that it warmed him.
“I was in battle.”
Xyn materialized behind him so fast that it was shocking. He’d never understand how a creature so large could maneuver so quickly and silently.
Something brushed against him that felt like hands. My armor didn’t protect you?
“In ways you can’t imagine.” He reached up to cup her face and nuzzle her spiny jaw. “Thank you. Sadly, it doesn’t cover all of me. And most of this isn’t from battle, but rather afterward … when my solren found out we were in the human realm without his knowledge.”
She pulled back and cocked her dragon’s head to frown at him. Pardon? Your father beat you for fighting?
He felt the same bitterness her tone betrayed. “Aye. The man makes no sense. He’s ridiculous.”
Wrapping him in the warmth of her scales, she gave him a deep, rippling caress. Bathe yourself in the falls so that you can heal.
“You sure?” If they were caught, she could be executed. No one was allowed near Apollymi’s healing waters. Normally, Xyn wouldn’t let him so much as look at them unless she knew for a fact where the goddess was.
Xyn nuzzled against his back and nodded. Aye. Go quickly before I change my mind.
Urian didn’t need more than that. He flashed himself out of his clothes and quickly dove into the water, which was unbelievably soothing. It was so warm and inviting. Like a mother’s caress.
Normally their only exposure to the waters came in small sips that a Charonte might dispense to him or another whenever they were injured and Apollymi approved the water being brought to them.
To actually bathe in it …
This was Katateros. The Atlantean version of paradise.
Xyn crept toward the edge of the falls so that she could watch Urian as he frolicked naked in the rainbow pool. If only he had any idea how much she wanted to join him there …
Damn, he was gorgeous. Perfect in every way and completely delectable.…
She took one long, lingering look at his lush, muscular body and the way the water made those ripped muscles glow …
Yeah, it was worth it. And it always made it difficult for her to remain in her dragon’s body whenever she watched him bathe. It was why she allowed him to do so, even though it would mean her life if they were caught.
Biting her lip, she felt the heat inside her rise and it wasn’t from her dragon’s fire.
For years now, she’d been venturing into the main Apollite town in the guise of one of them to spy on him from a distance. Sometimes when he trained. Or whenever they gathered for celebrations. Always in crowds so that he wouldn’t notice her or, goddess forbid, approach her to talk.
Although there had been a few close calls when she’d been too caught up with his beauty that she hadn’t pulled away fast enough.
Now …
You’re different tonight, Urian. What else happened that you haven’t told me about?
Urian had a confidence to him that hadn’t been there before. A peculiar air she couldn’t quite place. In spite of his injuries, she sensed a peace she didn’t understand.
Most of all, she wanted to wrap him in her arms and hold him close so that no one could harm him or threaten his safety in any way.
He paused in the black water to stare up at her where she waited on the bank. Floating on his back, he gave her an uninhibited view of his entire perfect body. Every inch of it.
Her throat went dry as she felt even more heat rushing through her. All she wanted was the courage to change forms and climb on top of him so that she could take him inside her and claim him as her own.
That would be heaven. And it was the one dream she had that she knew could never be.
Especially when he finally broke the silence with words that shattered her heart.
“I fed tonight.”
An unbelievable wave of anger and jealousy tore through her as her happiness splintered at the thought of him having sex with another woman. A wave so fierce and furious that she almost belched fire at him. It made her long to do him harm. More than that, it demanded she find whatever female he’d found and pluck every strand from her head until she was bald and bleeding.
Begging for mercy!
How could he do this?
Then again, how could he not?
The truth stung like a hive of hornets, and it brought tears to her eyes as she forced herself to calm down and face a bitter, harsh truth. He had to have an Apollite to feed him. She could never do that and she knew it. With all her powers and abilities …
She could never be what he needed.
Never.
“Xyn?” He swam closer to her. “Are you all right?”
No. How could she be? The man she loved had broken her heart. He’d taken another lover and there was nothing she could do about it.
He was faithless and here she had to stand in silence while he cavorted with someone else and rubbed her very nose in it. While he laughed and went off with another, right in front of her very eyes. How could any woman be all right with that?
It was madness for him to even postulate such a question to her.
Yet in spite of the pain. In spite of the travesty, she swallowed hard before she answered in a calm, steady voice that belied her tattered heart. Of course.
With a worried frown, he came out of the water, dripping and naked, and headed for her.
Unable to bear the sight of his beauty when she knew she couldn’t have any part of him, Sarraxyn got up and flew away, wishing more than ever that she could leave this horrible place and find her own family. Be a
mong her own kind again. At least there she wouldn’t be so horribly alone.
Forever. An outcast in a world where there was no one like her. Where no one could love her or see her for what she really was. She was a freak here.
Unwanted. Unneeded.
Judged for things she couldn’t help.
And seen for only half of who and what she really was. But one day …
One day, she’d break free and the world would know her for her real heart and force.
That would be the day they’d all tremble in fear before her.
Even Urian.
June 12, 9511 BC
“Your matera is human!”
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.