by Laura Kaye
“Don’t,” Owen said, his eyes flaring with that new silver light. “Don’t pretend you don’t know what he’s talking about. Not on the day we lay my father to rest. Honor Boreas’s death by living your life.”
Chrys planted his hands on his hips, pressure filling his chest. Didn’t they know how badly he wished he could just have what he wanted, consequences be damned? “It is her life I am trying to protect.”
“We are in the shit right now, Chrys. There’s no doubt about it,” Zeph said. “But this war will end. She’s here. She’s seen the worst. Maybe you should give her a say in it.” He gripped Chrys’s shoulder. “Just be sure before you throw away forever. It doesn’t come along very often.”
“That’s for damn sure,” Owen said. “Speaking of forever, I’m going to go find Megan. Thank the gods, her labor pains stopped, but I think she’s in shock.” He tugged his hand through his black hair. “We have a lot to figure out.”
“And you will,” Zeph said. “Go. She must be eager to see you.” The new god of the North Wind stepped away. “Oh, and Owen?”
He turned, the fur robes swirling around him.
“You are our brother as surely as Boreas was. Don’t hesitate to ask for anything.”
Chrys nodded. “That’s the damn truth.”
“Thank you…brothers.”
As he watched Owen stride toward the ornate doors, Chrys didn’t envy the challenges the new god of the North Wind and Megan now faced. At least Ella was a goddess, and she and Zeph could live together in the Realm of the Gods. While Boreas had found a way to extend the span of Megan’s life, she was still a mortal, still human, and as such could not live in this realm. Zeus strictly forbade it.
Now that he thought of it, their situation offered yet another reason why Laney was better off without him. How many sacrifices did he expect her to make for him? Not that he’d ever voice such a thing. Owen had enough to deal with right now, and Zeph often regretted that Ella never had the chance to choose her goddesshood for herself. He’d made that decision for her, though there wasn’t a chance in hell she would’ve chosen any differently.
What would Laney choose? The thought slid insidiously through his brain.
He knew the answer. He could still hear her voice declaring her place to be with him. No matter how much he yearned to make that come true, he wasn’t worth that kind of sacrifice, and Chrys would never ask her to make it.
…
Laney woke up with a start and sat bolt upright. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. The bedding below her fingers was silky soft. Ahead of her, the wall seemed to be made of light. She scanned her vision over the space, attempting to assemble the puzzle. The details she gathered told her it was a bedroom…
Memories returned to her in a rush. The fire, the battle, Boreas’s death. Her throat went tight as she recalled the devastation in everyone’s voices as they’d said their good-byes. The love they’d all shared was one of the most beautiful things she’d ever witnessed, and their loss of it, one of the most tragic.
“I don’t want to lose you, Chrys,” she whispered into the silence. But she already had, hadn’t she? Her heart of hearts demanded that he loved her, too, that he’d showed it time and again even if he’d never said the words. Wishful thinking, no doubt.
Now, it was just a matter of time before he returned her to Summerlyn.
Nearly overwhelmed just about every way you cut it, Laney took a moment to scan her gaze over the floor. It appeared clear of obstacles. She got up and crossed the room. Was this truly the Realm of the Gods? How long had she slept? Where was Chrys? And what had happened to Seth?
Seth. Laney sucked in a breath and spun her feet to the floor, a strange memory flooding back to her. When Seth had hugged her upon their reunion, Laney had gotten the oddest image in her mind. It was Seth, but not as a man. As a lion. Sorta. He’d had wings, too, and a great bird’s head.
Voices sounded outside in the hall.
Debating for a moment, she slowly crossed the room toward the muffled conversation and dragged her hand along the far wall. Her fingers found a handle and she cracked open the door.
Owen’s bright white aura was the first thing she noticed—brighter than it had ever been before. Megan walked beside him.
“Dada, Dada,” Teddy’s voice called out.
After everything they’d been through, she didn’t want to intrude, but they spotted her before she could retreat.
“Are you okay, Laney?” Megan asked.
“Oh, yes. I just woke up and I…” She shrugged.
“Things just broke up,” Owen said. “I’m sure Chrys’ll come find you in a few. Aeolus has had a feast prepared.”
“We’re going to get Tabitha,” Megan said. “We’ll see you there.”
Laney’s stomach flip-flopped. A divine feast in the Realm of the Gods. How much more magical and fantastical could her day get? That strange lion-bird image shot into her mind and she didn’t let herself answer that. “All right. Thanks.”
Owen lifted Teddy into his arms and turned. A flapping of heavy fabric sounded out.
She scanned her gaze over the retreating family. It was very possible her sight was failing her, but she would’ve sworn that Owen was wearing long, silvery robes. Just like the ones she’d seen in her mind’s eye when he had taken her hand to lead her to safety.
“That’s not possible,” she said to herself.
“Oh, but it is,” a voice said from behind her.
Laney whirled, her heart in her throat. Judging by the grey, metallic aura, another god stood before her. “Who are you?”
He hobbled closer. “You don’t remember?”
“Should I?” Now that she thought about it, there was something familiar about his short height and gruff voice… The old man from her dream. She gasped. “But it was just a dream,” she murmured.
“Incorrect. It was a visitation. And I bestowed upon you a gift.”
“Gift?” She focused on the god and struggled to bring his details into focus. Unkempt brown hair. Hunched back. Gnarled hands. It was the man from the dream she’d had the day Chrys posed as a contractor.
“The gift of prophecy. Life is about balance. You lost one sight. I gave you another.”
Another? Dizziness threatened. “I don’t understand. You mean…the things I’ve seen were visions? Like, the future?”
“Yes. Your ability will get stronger with time.”
“Seth,” she whispered, her mind reeling. How could what she’d seen be his future?
“Is safe. And he is also a griffin. Or, at least, he could be. The blood runs through him, if distantly.”
“A…griffin? What is that?” she asked, not sure she really wanted to know.
“King of the beasts. Guardian of priceless treasure. Part lion, part eagle. Very strong. Very courageous. Paired with your line long, long ago. For protection, of course.”
“My line?” she asked, mind absolutely swirling with all this information.
“Distant descendant of Auxesia, one of the three Horae—the one who watches over nature’s growth in summer.”
Laney shook her head, absolutely speechless. Both their names actually meant something? Actually connected them, even if only in a small way, to this magical world? Her heart drummed a fast beat against her chest. She pressed her palm there to keep it from flying away. This was all so crazy. Starting with the idea that she would be able to see the future. What could she do with an ability like that? How could she help people with it? The possibilities were overwhelming. “Your gift…it’s truly amazing,” she finally said. “Thank you. ”
He gave a small bow. “I am Hephaestus. I have been keeping an eye on you.”
His words should’ve brought fear, but for some reason they didn’t. “Why have you watched me?”
“Because I am always curious how things work and what makes people tick. And because we are alike.”
A nervous laugh spilled from her. “How so?”
“Both of
us have bodies that could hold us back, but we haven’t let them now, have we?”
She thought of the hunched over way he walked, recalled an image from her dream of gnarled feet and hands. This god felt some affinity with her because of her blindness? As if he hadn’t already honored her enough with his gift. She grappled with how to respond. “We all have our challenges,” she finally said.
“Indeed. And there’s that genuine, selfless character again, rare and unusual qualities in my experience. ”
She struggled to keep up with the unusual god’s pronouncements. “I don’t…really know what to say to that. Thank you,” she rushed to add. “But…I’m just like anyone.”
“Ach. You are not. Three times you have risked your life for another.”
“Chrys? It’s what anyone would do for someone they—” Heat spread across her face. She hugged herself.
“Ah, yes. So you do love him?” He stepped closer, and Laney realized she was taller than him because of the way his back and shoulders had curled.
What did it hurt to answer? If he’d truly watched her, he already knew. “Yes.”
“Then I have a question for you.”
The hair raised on her arms and the blood raced in her veins. Laney’s stomach tingled, like she was balanced on the edge of a vast cliff. “Dare to know,” she whispered to herself. She met the god’s expectant gaze. “Okay. What is it?”
“If you had the choice between the return of your visual sight or remaining blind and gaining long life, which would you choose?”
A shiver passed through Laney’s chest and over every inch of her skin. Such a thing was possible? And this god had the power to offer it? Laney’s whole life narrowed to this one moment. “What do you mean by long life?” she asked, nearly breathless.
“The ability to stay with immortal Chrysander for as long as you wish, but mostly blind, as you are now.”
The walls of the room swam and buckled. Laney swayed.
Hephaestus’s rough, calloused fingers gently caught her arms. “Steady, lass.”
“I wouldn’t grow old or die?” She shook her head. “I don’t even know that he wants me.”
“And what if he did?”
Her heart thundered, sending blood roaring through her ears. If there was even a chance, Hephaestus was offering them a way to be together forever. “The choice would be easy. I would choose love, so I would have to choose long life and blindness.”
“Would you like to make this choice?”
“Laney,” a voice behind her rasped. She turned. Chrys stood in the doorway. How long had he been there? She dragged her gaze up his big body to his face. He was shaking his head. “Don’t do this. I’m not worth it. You could see again.”
Hope and fear filled her chest in equal proportions. “I don’t want my sight. I want you.”
“Hephaestus, please,” he said.
“The choice is hers, Chrysander Notos. She has earned it.”
“Remember your joy when we flew in the elements,” Chrys said, his voice desperate. “Remember your wonder at getting to see again. The sun, Laney. Sappho, your farm, your books…a million things. You could have all of it again.”
She shouldered back the side of her psyche that latched on to his rejection, and listened to what he wasn’t saying. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her. It was that he didn’t think he was worthy of her sacrifice of these things.
Her heart ached for him. “You are worthy, Chrys.” Her choice would prove it to him. As soon as the words left her mouth, certainty flooded over her in a warm rush. She turned back to Hephaestus. “I would like to make the choice. Long life and blindness.”
“So be it.” Hephaestus pressed one gnarled finger to her forehead and another to her heart. Electric tingles ran through her, and a white haze descended over her mind. Chrys’s voice sounded out, but Laney couldn’t decipher the words. She seemed to float outside herself for a long moment. Then, in a rush, she slammed back in. Her knees buckled, and she fell.
Warm arms caught her, cradled her against an even warmer chest. The rightness of the feeling flowed through her. The hazed lifted. Was it done? Was it really true?
Hephaestus leaned over her. “Indeed it is.”
“I said that out loud?” The old god grinned and nodded. She grasped his hand and kissed a gnarled knuckle. “Thank you.”
“You have chosen powerfully, Laney Summerlyn. You shall keep your prophetic sight.” He straightened, at least as much as he could. “This is for you, Chrysander. Do not open it until you’ve made your choice.” He hobbled two steps backward and lurched to a stop. “Oh, and we finished your barn roof. No thanks to you, Notos.”
Then he disappeared.
…
Chrys looked from the now empty floor in front of him, still echoing with the series of wild pronouncements, to the incredible woman lying in his arms. Overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of her sacrifice, he sank the rest of the way to his knees.
Every reason he’d used to convince himself they couldn’t be together fell away, and, in a great rush of faith, Chrysander surrendered. To need, to want, to love.
She had given up something for which she had long yearned for the mere possibility of a love, and a life, with him. With him.
Yet, she had no idea how he felt about her. How powerfully love and admiration and pure, simple awe flowed through him for her. All she knew were the lies he’d told—that he didn’t want her, that his life had no room for her. The lies were a shameful disgrace in the face of the enormous gift she’d bestowed on him. A disgrace he needed to correct right now.
“Chrys—”
“I love you,” he rasped, his throat so tight the words were barely audible. He swallowed, hard, and crushed her to him. “I love you,” he said louder. “I want you. And I’m so sorry—”
“You love me?” Joy scattered every doubt from her beautiful eyes. A smile brightened her whole face, even as her eyes glassed over. “I love you, too. Nothing means more to me than you.”
Chrys cradled her face and kissed her for all he was worth. Every longing, every yearning, every hope he’d ever had for and about her, he poured into the kiss. Her love and acceptance were like a balm to his soul, warming those places that had been left cold and unattended his whole, long existence. Breathing hard, he pulled away. “I want to make love to you.”
Cheeks flush, lips swollen, she nodded. He saw his desire mirrored back to him on her lovely face. “I’m yours. Always.”
He rose in one movement and crossed to the big bed, sending a rush of the South Wind behind him to secure the door. Willing their clothes away, he sprawled her on the center of the bed and climbed between her spread thighs. His cock twitched and throbbed, already aching for their joining. He dragged his fingers from her throat to the soft curls between her legs. He rubbed his thumb over the hard nub of her clit. She was already wet and wanting with desire. For him.
“Jesus, you are gorgeous and so damn sexy. I want to spend the rest of my life exploring you, bringing every one of your fantasies to life. But right now, I have to get in you.”
She grasped his cock and guided him to her opening. “I need you.”
He thrust forward and filled her in one slick penetration. An ecstatic groan tore out of him. Nothing had ever felt more right, like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Like he was home.
Laney threw her hands above her head and arched beneath him. “You feel so good, Chrys.”
Bracing his fists on either side of her stomach, his body took over, moving in deep, fast strokes through her tight heat. The iron amulet knocked against his chest in time with the grinding rhythm. He dragged his gaze down her body, alive and writhing with arousal. Her hips rocked, her breasts shook, her teeth scraped at her bottom lip, her hands fisted and grasped at the covers above her.
Seeing a lover this way wasn’t something he was used to. And Laney…she was absolutely breathtaking to behold. And he wanted to fe
el her, feel this, every bit of it.
“Laney,” he rasped, the foreign desire to touch resurrecting a hint of his ancient anxiety.
“I love you,” she panted.
The declaration, so freely given, so deeply felt, blanketed the apprehension just enough that he thought he could take the chance… “Touch me.” His heart tripped into a sprint. “Oh, gods, touch me.”
Eyes wide, she reached up and grasped his face in gentle hands. “Shh, it’s okay.” Her fingers stroked his cheeks. “You can trust me. I’ll never hurt you. I’ll never do anything you don’t want.”
He swallowed, hard, his breath rushing from his chest. “More.”
She lifted her legs and wrapped her calves around him, rubbing and stroking his ass as he thrust.
The sensation was electric. Warmth and pleasure overloaded his skin and crawled down his spine, gathering in his balls. “Aw, gods, I want—” He lowered his body fully onto hers, his hands fisting in her hair, his hips thrusting wildly. Everywhere they touched, her heat seared and soothed him until his head was spinning with the incredible, foreign sensation. She smelled so good, warm and feminine and sweet. He breathed her down deep, but couldn’t get enough. Would never be able to get enough. “Hold me,” he gasped against her lips.
Her arms came around his back in a tight, warm embrace.
He groaned and claimed her in a fierce kiss. Their tongues swirled and licked, their lips and teeth nipped and pulled. Their breathing was rough and panting. Chrys dropped kisses everywhere he could reach without giving up one iota of her touch.
His hands were filled with black silk. His torso pressed against the firm mounds of her breasts. Their stomach muscles, damp with sweat, rubbed and slid. Her thighs squeezed his pistoning hips and her heels spurred into his ass, completing the mind-blowing full-body experience. He’d never felt anything like it before. “You’re the only one,” he said, emotion raw in his voice.
A high-pitched whimper tore out of her. He captured the sound with his mouth and worked his hips against her clit. His cock stroked hard and deep, and he angled his thrusts until she was mewling and whimpering into his mouth.
“Gods, Laney, give it to me. Give every bit of it to me.”