TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7)

  Slowly, she lifted her gaze to his. The god was close. Mere inches away. And the rage building inside him… She could see it in his eyes, in his taut muscles, in the lines on his perfectly sculpted face. She wasn’t stupid enough to egg him on, but she wasn’t backing down either. Not anymore.

  “Yes,” she said in a voice she knew shook even though she tried to stop it. “I did.”

  His face turned red. His jaw hardened until it was as rigid as stone. She braced herself for his wrath, but it didn’t come. Instead, he stepped back, his hands in fists at his sides, his muscles straining as if he were fighting to hold something back. Not looking away from her eyes, he called, “Guards?”

  Shuffling sounded in the other room. Cynna’s gaze jumped past Zagreus to the hulking satyrs rushing by him, one of whom she recognized as Lykos.

  “I’ve been waiting for this,” Lykos growled.

  Panic spread through every inch of Cynna’s body. She shifted, tried to move to the side, but the two beasts caught her by the arms before she could get away.

  Zagreus stepped into her bedroom. The satyrs dragged her kicking and struggling through the doorway. Zagreus nodded toward the bed. “There.”

  “No.” No, no, no, no, no… She thrashed, tried to fight against them, but their grips were too strong. She’d been wrong. He wasn’t going to kill her. Not yet, at least. He was going to let Lykos and the other satyr have their way with her first. She’d seen what Lykos could do to a female. She’d never survive it. She didn’t want to survive it. She struggled, kicked out, tried to nail him in the balls but missed.

  “On her back,” Zagreus ordered.

  The satyrs maneuvered her like a rag doll. Cynna tried to fight, but they were too strong. One pinned her arms above her head; the other wrenched down on her legs. The bed dipped, and she sensed Zagreus move in close, felt his big hand tug her pants down at the hip. Winced as something sharp stabbed into her flesh.

  A burn ripped through her muscle and spread through her leg and belly. She screamed, tried to kick out, but her muscles were growing lax, her limbs heavy. Whatever he’d injected into her was immobilizing her within seconds.

  “Shh, agapi. That’s it. Let it work. You know you deserve this.”

  Tears pooled in Cynna’s eyes. She tried to roll to her side but couldn’t. This was how Nick felt. What it was like to know misery was coming, powerless to stop it. She did deserve this. But not because she’d defied Zagreus. She deserved it because she hadn’t defied him sooner.

  “That’s better.” Zagreus’s hands landed against her bare belly, tracing a slow circle where her tank had ridden up. She could feel it. Could feel Lykos’s hands gripping her wrists and the other satyr petting her legs. Her stomach rolled, and sickness threatened. She could feel everything, but she couldn’t react.

  “Get it,” Zagreus said to Lykos. Then, “No, in her arm.”

  A sharp stab pierced the flesh of her inner arm, this needle bigger than the other—way bigger—and something passed into her skin. Something solid. Cynna cried out, but she still couldn’t move.

  “That’s so I can find you again, my love.” Zagreus ran his fingers over her belly, pushing her tank higher until cool air washed over her breasts, baring them to the beasts holding her down. Growls echoed in the room. Growls of lust and approval she didn’t want to think about.

  “I was very upset when I discovered what you’d done,” Zagreus said, still touching her, “but then I realized how we could use it to our advantage. You were right, agapi. He’s not going to break at the hands of the nymphs. But he will break thanks to you. I saw it in his eyes when you pleasured him. He wants you.” The tips of his fingers traced over her nipples. “Oh, how I understand that wanting.” He pinched one tip until pain shot through her breast. “And I’m going to let him have you. For a price.”

  “Release her,” Zagreus ordered. “And leave us.”

  Lykos growled low in his throat. Pain forgotten, Cynna stopped her useless struggling and tried to focus on what was happening around her. Even though she couldn’t turn her head to look, she recognized the sound of the satyr’s fury.

  Zagreus’s head snapped up. “Do not tempt me, satyr. I’d like nothing more than to rip someone’s throat out, and right now I don’t care if it’s yours.”

  Hands lifted from her body, but still she couldn’t move. Tension crackled in the room, mixing with a cacophony of lust and rage, and though Cynna still couldn’t see them, she knew a power struggle when she heard it. Also knew if she wasn’t careful, she’d get caught in the middle.

  The other satyr, the one Cynna hadn’t gotten a good look at, growled, “Come on. We’ll find the nymphs.”

  Tense seconds passed, then footsteps sounded, followed by a door slamming.

  “Smart satyr,” Zagreus muttered.

  Cynna wasn’t so sure. Zagreus had just taken away the one thing Lykos wanted more than power. And he’d be gunning for her the next chance he got. But even that thought faded as Cynna realized Zagreus’s footsteps were moving away from the bed.

  Recognizing this might be her only chance, she tried to roll to her side but couldn’t. Frustration and fear and anger welled inside her, but the drug he’d given her was doing its job, and she couldn’t move a single muscle.

  “My sweet, sweet Cynna,” he whispered, coming close once more. “This is only temporary, agapi. Until we can be together again.” She tensed as he lifted her upper body, as he sat in the pillows behind her and cradled her head in his lap. Bringing a goblet to her lips, he tilted her head up. “Drink.”

  She’d said the same word to Nick earlier. Zagreus had to know. But this wasn’t cool refreshing water as she’d given Nick. Before the thick, warm fluid reached her lips, she knew it was blood. His blood.

  It poured into her mouth and down her throat. She gagged, coughed, tried to force it out, but her tongue wasn’t working. The salty, metallic liquid gurgled between her lips and slid down her chin. He tipped the cup higher, holding her mouth to the edge. “Drink it all.”

  Tears spilled over her eyelids. She couldn’t breathe, was sure she was going to choke to death. And then he was pulling the cup away, rubbing his bloodstained fingers through her hair, smoothing his hand down her cheek. “That’s all. No more. You did well. Breathe now.”

  Cynna couldn’t do anything else. But she wasn’t well. She could feel his blood settling in the pit of her stomach, sending a rolling, nasty heat all through her body.

  “That’s it. Let my blood become part of you. I know this won’t be easy, but to break him, we have to give him something to live for. That’s you, my love. You were right, and I should have listened sooner. This is the only way.”

  She didn’t know what he meant, but a fire was building in her veins. One she was suddenly afraid would consume her.

  “You’re going to earn his trust.” Zagreus stroked her hair as if she were a pet rather than a person. “You’re going to make him think you’re saving him, make him fall for you. He won’t be able to resist. He’s halfway there already. All he needs is a little push. And when he finally turns his back on that useless hero honor and chooses you over his precious people, then we’ll have what we want. Then I’ll come and reclaim you both.”

  He leaned close to her ear, so close his hot breath was all she felt. That and his bloody hand closing tight around her jaw to squeeze until pain made her eyes water and darkness creep in at the edge of her vision. “But remember that you are mine. No matter how you fuck him. Whether it’s with your hand or mouth or your slutty little body, never forget you belong to me. My blood flows in your veins now. Mine and no one else’s. We made a deal, and you will never be free of me. Not until I have what I want. That I promise.”

  He let go of her jaw. And vaguely, she felt his hands traveling down her neck, across her bare breasts and over her abdomen, but she didn’t care. That darkness was claiming her, pulling her under, drawing her into a murky abyss. And she relished it. Because there she wouldn??
?t have to endure whatever else he had planned for her. And there she couldn’t worry about what he was going to do to Nick.

  “Sleep now, agapi. And know I will come for you. Soon.”

  Soft humming woke Isadora.

  Rolling to her side, she peered through the open doorway of her bedroom that led into the nursery. A low light burned in the darkness, and her daughter’s happy coo drifted from the other room, but it was the sweet male voice that pulled her from the bed.

  She ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair as she crossed the room, her pulse picking up, her stomach tightening as it always did when he was close. The sleeves of her silky blue pajamas fell past her fingers as she reached for the doorjamb, and her feet drew to a stop.

  Warmth curled outward from her chest and expanded through her limbs. Demetrius stood near their daughter’s crib, cradling Elysia in one of his big arms, letting her hold on to the index finger of his other hand with her little fist while he swayed and hummed a lullaby Isadora recognized from her youth.

  The Argonauts all seemed surprised at the softness he exuded when he was near his daughter, but Isadora had known it was in him for a long time. Ever since those days they’d spent on that deserted island together, when she’d gotten her first true glimpse of the real man, not the closed-off and hardened guardian he wanted the world to see.

  He was still dressed in the black pants and long-sleeved thick shirt he always wore when he was fighting in the human realm. A smudge of dirt smeared his cheek, and his dark hair was tousled around his face, as if he’d run his fingers through it several times in frustration. He’d obviously come right to the castle after crossing back into Argolea, but she could tell without even asking that he still hadn’t found his brother. She felt it as surely as she felt that Nick was still alive.

  “I wish that was my welcome-home greeting.”

  His humming cut off, and he turned to face her, surprise evident in his black eyes. “Did we wake you?”

  “Yes.” She stepped away from the door and moved into the room to stand next to him, peering down at their daughter. Her brown eyes were all Isadora, but that thick black hair and that tiny dent in her chin were her father’s, and every time Isadora looked at Elysia, she saw the man she loved. “And it’s a good way to wake.”

  She reached for Elysia’s other hand, and the baby cooed and gripped Isadora’s finger, locking the three of them together.

  This was what Isadora wanted. Her family all in one place. But that niggling vision she’d had wouldn’t leave her, and she feared their separation of late was only the beginning of the end.

  She looked up when she realized Demetrius was staring at her. He was still swaying, but concern now shadowed his eyes, and his features were drawn tight as he studied her. “What?” she asked.

  He let go of Elysia’s hand and placed his palm over Isadora’s forehead. “Are you ill? You look pale.”

  Sighing, Isadora released the baby and pushed his hand away. She hated when everyone worried over her like she was some glass doll. And that wasn’t the way she wanted her mate to touch her, not after the days they’d been apart. “I’m fine, Demetrius. Just tired. There’s been a lot going on here, but then you wouldn’t know because you haven’t been around.”

  It was a dig. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself from saying it. Turning out of the nursery so they didn’t argue in front of their daughter, she crossed to the windows in their bedroom and folded her arms over her chest. Frustration clouded her mind as she looked out at the sparkling view of the Olympic Ocean under the full-moon light. Followed by a wave of confusion that she found herself being short with him when what she really wanted was him home and with her.

  The door to the nursery closed softly, then Demetrius’s footsteps crossed the floor. But he didn’t touch her. He stopped several feet away as if he couldn’t read her mood and wasn’t sure how to proceed.

  Well, that makes two of us.

  “I’m back for good,” he said in a low voice. “No more weeks away at a time.”

  She focused on the lap of water against the beach far below, shimmering in the moonlight. “You talked to Theron, didn’t you?”

  “I need to be here.”

  No, he’d talked to Theron and found out what she’d decided about the Misos and the Council. “We’re perfectly safe here in the castle. I don’t need you sacrificing your duties out of guilt.”

  He moved close, his body heat wrapping around her, warming her, and then his big hands landed against her upper arms, gently turning her to face him. “You are never a sacrifice, kardia.”

  Tears burned in her eyes. Useless tears she didn’t understand.

  His hands slid up to cup her face and tip her gaze up to his. Confusion clouded his features. “What’s wrong?” he whispered.

  She didn’t know. And that frustrated her more than anything. It was more than that vision—a vision she wasn’t about to accept. It was more than what was happening with the Misos and the Council. It was even bigger than the distance that was stretching between them. It was something else. Something she couldn’t grasp yet. “I’m just tired,” she managed. “And I miss you. So much.”

  He pulled her in close, wrapped his arm around her, and slid one hand into her hair. “I’ve missed you too. You have no idea how much. I’m sorry I haven’t been here. I’m sorry I left you to deal with everything on your own. I won’t do that again.”

  As she fought back the stupid tears, she rested her head against his chest and closed her arms around his back, drawing in a deep whiff of his masculine scent, loving his heat, loving his strength, loving him more than she ever thought she could. “No, you’re doing what you need to be doing. I want you to find Nick. We can’t let the gods have control of him if he really does have Krónos’s powers inside him. I’m just…”

  “What?” His fingers paused their gentle massage against her scalp.

  “I’m lonely without you.”

  “Kardia…” He eased back, then bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. “I’m here. I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. You are my everything.”

  The kiss was sweet. A soft brush of skin against skin, but the moment his flesh touched hers, she wanted more. Needed their connection if for no other reason than to prove to herself that this overwhelming desire to find Nick wasn’t personal. He wasn’t the man she loved. This one was. This one was her life.

  She lifted to her toes, slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, then groaned when he opened and kissed her deeply. His hands tightened around her back, and at her front, she felt his body’s reaction, felt his muscles tighten and his erection swell against her belly.

  “Prove it to me,” she whispered. “Prove it to me right now.”

  He drew back, just enough so he could look down at her in the dim light. “On one condition.”

  “Anything.” Right now she’d promise whatever he wanted just to be close to him.

  He brushed a lock of hair way from her temple in a move that was so tender, her heart rolled beneath her ribs. “After, you let me make you something to eat. You’re thinner than when I left.”

  She pushed down the irritation, the reminder that he still thought of her as weak, and rose back to her toes. “After. But right now all I want is you.”

  Escape.

  The word pulsed in Cynna’s head, growing louder with every passing second.

  Her eyes popped open, and a searing burn slid up her throat. Rolling to her side, she coughed, trying to expel the vileness inside her.

  Her body shook with her coughing fit. When it passed, she blinked and looked around. She was lying on her side on the bed in her room. Something sticky covered her fingers. Something red and—

  Her eyes grew wide as she looked down at the dried blood on her hand and the puddle of red on the mattress beneath her. She jolted out of the bed and raced for the bathroom before she lost what was in her stomach.

  Pain radiated outward from her belly. Back
ing away from the toilet, she leaned against the wall while she tried to catch her breath. Her mind was a foggy mess. She patted her arms and legs, looking for wounds but couldn’t find any. What had happened? Where had all the blood come from? The last thing she remembered was being in Nick’s cell, her hands traveling over his body, bringing him to release, then coming back here to her room and—

  Zagreus…

  Oh shit.

  Bits and pieces flashed in her memory. Him, the satyrs, her fighting frantically. But she couldn’t piece them together, couldn’t form a coherent picture of what they’d done to her. Panic spread through her veins, and she frantically checked every part of her body, looking for marks, for wounds, looking for what Zagreus had been up to.

  The only thing she found was a slightly swollen red bump on the inside of her right forearm and a tiny puncture wound in her skin. The rest of her body was untouched.

  Relief stole through her. A relief that he hadn’t let his satyrs have their way with her, that he hadn’t raped her. It might be stupid, but giving herself to Zagreus was one thing. Having him take without her consent was something altogether different. And since she was only just barely holding it together these days, she feared something like that might send her over the edge.

  Escape.

  The word drowned out everything else. Whatever Zagreus had done to her was a result of her going to Nick last night. And that meant Zagreus didn’t trust her and that this was only the beginning. It also meant Nick was in as much danger as her.

  Escape…

  She’d thought of escaping just after she’d come here, after she’d made that deal with Zagreus and realized what he wanted from her. But it had seemed like such an enormous undertaking, one she wouldn’t be able to do herself with so many of Zagreus’s satyrs lurking about. But with Nick’s help…