by Donna Grant
She grinned, awed yet again by his large, powerful frame. Every inch of him was covered with muscles honed by use. His shoulders were wide. His brawny chest rippled with sinew and was tanned golden by the sun. His tousled blond locks held a hint of a wave to them as they fell haphazardly over his forehead. He brushed them away and turned his bright blue eyes on her.
Never had she seen a man so handsome or so consuming. When she wasn’t looking at the sea, she found herself searching for him, thinking of him. There was something so compelling about Achates. She feared the need rising within her, but she embraced it as well.
“You have to admit that it’s rather...daunting to learn that the Orinjals are descendants of Poseidon.”
“Not so hard, really.”
She studied his profile. He was a man of strength and power and fluid grace. He swam through the water as if he had been born to it, as if he were part of it. On land, he dominated with the same control and command.
“Come,” he said taking her hand and giving her a lopsided grin that made her heart skip a beat.
Her mouth opened on a gasp as he pulled her further into the waves. “Wait. I...I can’t.”
“Why?” His gaze didn’t mock her as he stared at her. Instead, he looked at her with compassion and confidence.
Livia glanced down at their joined hands, and then back into his warm blue eyes. Hesitantly, she moved deeper into the water, trusting him as she’d never trusted another. He never broke his gaze from hers as he walked backward, leading her into the waves.
When the water reached her waist, she stopped, ready to flee to the shore if he tried to pull her toward him. But he didn’t. He smiled a lazy smile filled with conviction and delight. And she felt herself begin to breathe easier as she grew more comfortable in the water.
“Once you learn the sea, there will be nothing to fear.” He released her hand and turned to stand beside her once again.
Livia licked her lips and tasted the salt from the waves. “All my life I’ve wanted to find my family. No one would answer my questions as to where they were or if they hadn’t wanted me.”
His gaze swung to her. “Your father never gave up looking for you. Never. Don’t ever forget that. He and your mother were devastated when you were taken.”
“What happened to them?”
He sighed. “Your mother never recovered from the loss. She blamed herself for your being taken. A few years later, we lost her to a fever.”
Hearing that her mother was dead was like a blow to her heart. Pain for the woman she had never known filled her so that she swayed with the waves. She swallowed past the growing lump in her throat. “And my father?”
“With his wife and daughter gone, he spent all of his time searching for you. Always searching. He tried to keep the Piratirans from coming ashore one night, and during the battle he was wounded. How he made it back to shore, I’ll never know. He died soon after.”
It was as she had thought. She was alone. Just as before. “So, I have no one.”
“No,” he said as he looked at her. “You have us. Your people.”
The urge to reach out and caress his warmth, to feel his strength, overwhelmed her. She fisted her hand and kept it in the water to hide how it shook to touch him, to touch someone who had known her family.
“There is one question that hasn't yet been answered,” she said after a moment.
“And what is that?”
“Why does everyone think I’m their salvation?”
He hesitated and glanced away before he took a deep breath. “You’ll find out eventually, so I suppose it would be better coming from me.”
“You’re frightening me.” She waited for him to tell her she had nothing to worry about.
“I don’t mean to scare you,” he said sadly. “The truth is, Livia, you are most certainly our savior. As ruler of Orinjal, I can only marry the woman to whom I am betrothed. And that woman is you.”
Nothing he said could have surprised her more. She blinked, letting his words sink into her mind. But still she didn’t believe she heard correctly. “What?”
“We were betrothed at your birth.”
She shook her head as a gull squawked overhead. “You don’t get to choose your own wife? I don’t get to choose my own husband?”
He chuckled. “I don’t get to choose my wife, but Poseidon does. He has never failed to give the rulers of Orinjal the perfect match.”
“How do you know that?”
“He’s a god, Livia.”
She glanced away from him, shaken to her very core. “This cannot be happening.”
“Since we were betrothed, I haven’t been able to marry and give Orinjal and Poseidon any children. No children means there is no one to carry on my line. The Orinjals will cease to be.”
Her heart pounded in her chest. “How can you be so sure I’m your betrothed?”
“I know you are.” He stepped closer to her, their bodies nearly touching as the waves wove around them. Urging them together. Drawing them closer. Ever closer.
Darkness fell quickly as the sun disappeared over the horizon. She was lost in Achates’ eyes, drowning in the bright blue pools that held her gaze captive. Livia wanted desperately to give in, but she had to find herself first. How could she be someone’s betrothed, a land’s savior, if she didn’t know who she really was?
Suddenly, she needed to be back on solid land. She turned and started toward shore. This was all a dream. All of it. She would wake in the morning to find herself on Piratira as a slave once more. She couldn’t believe anything Achates said, for it would give her hope.
And that was a dangerous thing to give someone who had nothing.
“You don’t believe me?” Achates asked as he followed her.
“I don’t know what to believe.” She stopped, her blood pounding in her ears. Her hands shook, so she wrung out her skirts to hide her anxiety. “What if you’re wrong? What if I’m not your betrothed?”
That self-assured smile of his graced his face once more. He placed a hand atop hers and gently released her skirts from her grip. “I know it’s you. Our people will pressure us to marry swiftly, but I don’t want to push you until you’re ready.”
Livia took a deep breath. “Marriage? I don’t even know you. I don’t know this island, these people, or this culture. I don’t know my family, and I really don’t even know myself. You’re asking the impossible.”
If she thought he would be angry at her words, she was wrong. He merely took her hand and gave it a slight squeeze.
“You’ll find that being a descendant of Poseidon means there are some things you cannot ignore, Livia. Your destiny is one of them.”
His words echoed in her mind long after he had left her for the night. She moved through the spacious room she had been given in Achates’ large home. She took in the room through the light of the moon and sighed. It was more beautiful than anything she had ever seen.
Tall windows opened onto a large balcony that faced the ocean, which she had opened as soon as she entered the room. Gauzy white curtains floated in the sea breeze sweeping through the room. The scent of the water was in every crevice of the room. It reminded Livia of all that had happened that day.
For several moments, Livia did nothing but stand in the path of the window and close her eyes while the wind danced around her. It was difficult for her to believe Achates’ words, especially because she wanted them to be true.
To go from slave to savior, to someone who meant something made her heart leap with yearning. And then there was Achates. Every time he drew near she found herself pulled to him. She wanted to touch him, to know him. As handsome as he was, she found it hard to believe he didn’t have a woman of his own. Just because he couldn’t marry didn’t mean he didn’t have needs.
Livia knew all about a man’s needs from her time on Piratira. She’d been lucky to keep from being taken, but she’d seen enough to know men’s appetites could be fierce. And all she had to do was l
ook at Achates to know he was all man.
As she stood in the wind, she felt a pull to the water as she had experienced as a young child. That pull promised happiness and forever. And it also promised truth.
She spread her arms and let out a breath. Livia opened herself up to all that was around her, and in that moment, she felt the truth she had sought since coming to Orinjal. She was home. She had been returned to the island of her people. Would she live up to what they expected of her? And more importantly, could she?
Livia dropped her arms and opened her eyes. She had been a slave her entire life. Now, she was free to do as she wanted, free to say what she liked. It was a heady experience.
She turned to the bed on the far side of the room, adorned with a simple white net to keep out the bugs. The bed itself was large and soft and covered with white linens.
She smiled at all the white, but as she turned to look at the room as a whole, she noticed that everything other than the plants placed throughout the room was white. It gave the place a fresh, innocent look, and Livia thought it beautiful.
Her skirts still clung to her legs from her trip into the ocean. Combined with the breeze from the windows, it caused chills to creep over her skin. She pulled her wet gown over her head and moved to a corner of the room where two chairs sat with a small table between them. She laid the gown on a chair to dry. As she started to turn away, she saw something folded on the second chair.
She reached out and picked up a gown of dark blue. Its fabric was soft and silky, and it caressed her skin lovingly as she pulled it over her head. It stopped just short of her knees, with a slit on one side that reached her hip. Thin straps were all that held the gown on her shoulders, and Livia giggled as she danced around the room.
She felt decadent, and the gown’s exotic cut made her think of Achates. Of his bright blue eyes and strong arms. Would he have tried to kiss her in the water if she hadn’t left? She had seen desire in his eyes. Maybe she shouldn’t have run from him. Maybe she should have let him kiss her.
As if her mind had conjured his presence, she turned to find him leaning against the door to her room, his arms crossed over his wide chest. His eyes were locked on hers and hooded so she couldn’t see them. “You look lovely.”
Livia’s stomach flip-flopped. She could only stare at the man before her, a man who now wore a shirt of pale yellow that accentuated his broad shoulders with his white pants.
“Thank you,” she finally managed. “The room is beautiful, and the view is...spectacular,” she said as she glanced out the window.
One side of his mouth lifted in a grin. “I thought you might like this room.” He pushed away from the door and walked until he stood before her. “If you need anything, my room is down the hall to the right.”
Livia’s stomach rolled with excitement, her blood warming with his nearness. She could feel his heat. His eyes had darkened, the desire there for her to see. For her to accept.
For her to take.
When he lifted a lock of her hair to his face and inhaled, her heart skipped a beat. “You smell of the ocean, of orchids, and windswept beaches. You smell of Orinjal.”
Words deserted her. She found herself captured by Achates’ intense gaze, unable to blink or move. He dropped her hair and caressed her cheek with a finger.
“Welcome home, Livia,” he whispered, just before his lips brushed across hers.
Chapter Four
Achates proved to himself just how much control he had when he turned on his heel and left Livia in her room. Alone.
The brief taste he’d had of her lips only made him crave her more. Yet somehow, he managed to rein in his growing desire and leave instead of tossing her onto the bed and making slow, sweet love to her until morning.
But he knew if she was to be a true Orinjal, he would have to take her to the one place she feared above all else. The water.
He cursed the Piratirans again for taking away the years he and Livia could have spent together. He wished he could remove her confusion and fear, but he couldn’t. All he could do was stand by her and give her his strength if she needed it.
A smile pulled at his lips as he stepped into his room and thought of how she had stood tall and straight as she’d asked her questions of the Orinjal council. Even when the answers frightened her, she didn’t show it.
Poseidon had indeed chosen well for him. Achates could hardly wait to have Livia as his wife. Undeniably, if it had been up to him, they would have married last night. But he had held off to give Livia time to accustom herself to her new surroundings.
He moved to his bed and lay down. But after several attempts at sleep, Achates sat up against his pillows and let his mind wander over the possibilities of the future. Somehow, they had to stop the Piratirans from stealing any more infants.
How the Piratirans continued to pierce their defenses boggled Achates’ mind. It had been suggested that someone had betrayed them, but everyone in Orinjal had been touched by a Piratiran kidnapping. Who would dare turn traitor?
It was near midnight when he heard movement in the silence of the house. Instantly, Achates was on his feet and on his way to Livia’s room.
Her door stood slightly ajar, and one look inside told him she wasn’t there. Achates moved swiftly through the upstairs, but couldn’t find her. After searching downstairs, he was about to raise the alarm when he looked out a window and saw her.
Achates took a deep breath in relief. He opened the door and stepped out into the night. Livia stood stiffly with her arms wrapped around her.
He had nearly reached her when she whispered his name.
Achates jerked to a halt. “What is it?” he asked, suddenly wary.
“They’ve come again.”
He stilled, his blood turning cold in his veins. “No alarm has been sent.”
“They’re here, Achates. They are taking more children.”
He didn’t waste another moment as he raced down the hill toward the village. He shoved aside the thick foliage of the island, leaping over fallen logs in his bare feet. “Not this time,” he repeated over and over in his mind as he raced through the dense canopy of palm trees.
Only once he reached the village did he slow. He found the men standing guard. One look at him, and they jerked to attention.
He put a finger to his lips and moved softly to them. “Move quietly and swiftly through the village. The Piratirans are here,” he whispered. “I want this to end tonight. No alarms, but be prepared for anything.”
The man closest to him, Aric, nodded his dark brown head. “I’ll gather the men.”
“Hurry,” Achates bade them.
He glanced back at his home as the men rushed off, and then turned toward the beach. There was only one way on and off Orinjal, and that was by water.
He didn’t bother with a weapon as he slipped as silently as a shadow down to the shore. When he spotted two boats in the cove, he vowed then that no more Piratirans would leave with their children.
The waves and breeze silenced his approach to the man who stood guarding the boats. Achates came up behind him, and with a swift jerk of his hands, broke the man’s neck. He let the Piratiran fall to the sand and then pulled the boats behind a grove of palm trees.
He had just finished covering the second boat with palm fronds when he saw someone running toward him. It was obvious by the way the man ran that something was in his arms, and when he heard the cry of the baby, Achates’ anger consumed him.
The man looked frantically around for the boats, and Achates stepped into his line of vision.
“No more will your kind leave with our children.” Achates stood with his feet apart, ready and willing to do whatever it took to keep the child with him.
The man laughed. “We will take your children until you no longer exist.”
“And how do you propose to leave? Your boats are gone. Your guard is dead. All by my hand. And I’ll be the one who takes your life as well.”
The man dropp
ed the infant and rushed into the water. Achates started toward the baby, and once he was sure the infant was unharmed, he dove into the water. He used the skill given to his kind from Poseidon and easily caught the Piratiran. Achates took hold of the man’s shirt collar and dragged him to shore, the man’s screams echoing around them.
He looked up when they reached the beach to see his people watching him. The infant was back in the arms of his parents, which helped to ease Achates’ fury. And then he spied Lycus and two of his other men each holding a Piratiran.
Achates’ grip on his man strengthened, and he tossed him to the ground. “You were warned before. I told you no more would be taken, and yet you didn’t listen. You’ve dared to come again, but this will be the last time.”
The Piratiran laughed. “You know nothing,” he bellowed. “You will never be rid of us. We will keep taking your children and making them our slaves before we sacrifice them to your god.”
The wrath that overcame Achates was frightening in its force, and he didn’t hold back. Too much had been taken from his people, from him. No more would he allow them to be hurt by the kidnappings. No more would he be made to comfort the families who had an baby taken.
“No more,” Achates said through clenched teeth.
He leaned over and jerked the Piratiran’s head until the man’s neck snapped. When he straightened, he looked to his left and saw Livia watching him. Then her gaze moved to Lycus, and she slowly walked toward him and the Piratiran he held.
“You’re dead,” the man said, his eyes bulging in his face. “I saw you die.”
Achates hurried to Livia’s side, and asked her, “Who is this man?”
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, “He was my master. Seamus is his name.”
Seamus gazed at Achates. “Don’t kill me. Please. I have a family.”
“So did Livia,” Achates ground out, his anger still consuming him. “You tossed her off the cliff this morning with her hands and feet bound, ensuring that she would die a slow, painful death.”