Enraptured

by Elisabeth Naughton

  Orpheus clenched his jaw, turned back for the elevator. Nick’s voice stopped him. “What are you gonna do with her?”

  Orpheus pushed the call button. “Get rid of her, once and for all.”

  Nick crossed his arms over his chest. “If you decide to let her live, make sure she can’t find her way back here. And if you don’t…clean up the mess.”

  Orpheus didn’t answer as the elevator door opened. From inside the car, he heard Nick say, “So this means you’re all taking off, right?”

  “No,” Isadora answered. “At least for tonight, we’re staying.”

  Fucking fantastic. Just what Orpheus needed. The sooner he got the info he needed from Maelea, the sooner he could get the hell out of here and away from all of them. But first he had the Siren to deal with.

  He took the elevator up another ten floors to the top as Nick had directed and stepped out into an empty space. Unlike the other levels, this one was nothing but stone floors and towering columns, void of furniture and rugs. A wall of windows looked out into the blackness.

  He crossed the long room, pushed the arched doors open, and stepped out into the cold. A gust of wind lifted the hair from his forehead, and a shiver ran down his spine. Shrugging deeper into his thin jacket, he searched the flat, barren terrace covered in a thin layer of snow that ran the length of the south wing. No movement caught his attention. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. He tuned in to his enhanced daemon sense—which, thankfully, still worked—and picked up nothing. To the right he spied a curved set of stairs that disappeared up into the darkness.

  The Siren had to go. Didn’t matter that she was hotter than sin. Or that he felt connected to her on some weird-ass plane. She was a distraction he couldn’t deal with anymore.

  The stone steps curved up and around. His boots crunched on snow as he skipped steps to get to the top. He paused when he spotted Skyla standing across the small terrace, looking out into the darkness, a trancelike expression on her perfect face.

  Gods, she was beautiful. Even pissed off and ready to be done with her, he couldn’t deny that fact.

  For a second he thought she was asleep. But then he realized she couldn’t be. Not standing straight with her eyes open. He took one more step onto the terrace and another gust of wind slapped him in the face, sending shivers over his skin. Skyla’s hair blew away from her cheeks, but she didn’t so much as quiver in the cold.

  His aggravation regarding her and her Siren sisters came back tenfold. Along with his stupidity for not kicking her to the curb when he should have. “Getting new orders from the mother ship?”

  She jerked in his direction. “Orpheus.”

  Why the hell did he like it when she said his name with that sexy Siren voice? He was so freakin’ gullible it wasn’t even funny. He set his jaw. “Well? Did Zeus give you the go-ahead to use me as a pin cushion with those fancy arrows of yours or are you supposed to wait until I have the Orb?”

  A guilty expression rushed across her face. It was the first time he’d mentioned the Orb to her. They both knew why she was here, but neither, it seemed, wanted to admit it.

  Well, screw it. This ended here. Tonight. No more games.

  “I…” Her platform boots crunched on the thin layer of snow as she took a step toward him. She’d ditched the breastplate and arm guards, leaving behind only a thin cotton shirt and light black jacket that hit at her hips and led to slim black fitted pants grazing her legs. “I wasn’t talking to Zeus. Or Athena. She wouldn’t answer me, actually. I was…thinking.”

  Yeah, right.

  She took another step toward him, her expression wary. She obviously sensed his animosity. That, or his eyes were glowing, signaling his daemon hovered close. Only it didn’t feel like his eyes were glowing. And though his daemon was there, it wasn’t as prominent as usual.

  “Queen Isadora told me you and the others went to throw the Sirens off our trail.”

  Isa had talked to her? Fabulous. Just what he needed. “Worried about them?”

  “No, they can handle themselves. They’re well trained.”

  “Backup?” he asked. “For when I decide to kill you?”

  Another shot of guilt rushed across her face before she glanced away. For the first time he noticed the scattering of patio furniture on this terrace. A couple of chaise lounges stacked together near what looked like a room made of glass. Inside he could see shapes, like other furniture stored for safekeeping.

  “Perhaps,” she said, “but I don’t think that’s why they were sent.”

  Orpheus brought his attention back to her, crossed his arms over his chest. Reminded himself he wasn’t up here to take in the scenery. He was here for answers. And to get rid of her. “Then why were they sent? I think it’s time you stopped fucking with me and laid it on the line. We both know you want the Orb. We both know Zeus sent you. What I want to know is why he sent other Sirens to tail you.”

  She bit her lip, the first blatantly nervous move he’d seen her make since they’d met. And a trickle of unease settled in his belly. “He sent them because he doesn’t trust me.”

  “And why doesn’t he trust you?”

  “Because he’s not stupid,” she muttered.

  He was just about to ask what the hell that meant when she took another step toward him, this time with determined eyes. Eyes that said she’d just gone on the offensive. “You weren’t chosen by the gods to become an Argonaut. You only got those markings when your brother died.”

  His spine stiffened. And the memory of what had happened to Gryphon whipped through him like a hurricane, pulling tight whatever was left inside his chest until it was hard to breathe.

  That damn Isadora.

  “I’d already started to suspect you were after the Orb for something other than what I’d been told, but now I know for sure. You’re going after the Orb to save him, aren’t you?”

  Why was she moving toward him? He took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Yes, you do. You’re just so used to working alone, you’d rather everyone go on thinking you’re a sonofabitch out for his own gain than have them know you’re trying to do some kind of good.”

  He wasn’t trying to do good. He was simply trying to right a wrong that shouldn’t have happened. His brother was the hero, not him. He’d done more bad shit in his life than most. He was the one who deserved to be in Tartarus, not Gryphon. All Gryphon had done was try to make the world a better place.

  “I’m not having this conversation with you. You can believe whatever stupid fairy tale you want. I only came up here to tell you it’s time for you to leave. Maelea’s staying here and your Siren buddies are gone. I’ll take you back to the forest, but from there you’re on your own.”

  “You’re letting me go? Just like that? Your friends aren’t afraid I’ll tell Zeus and the others where their colony is located?”

  “I’ll make sure you don’t remember.” He turned for the steps. “Let’s go.”

  “No, I’m not going back.” When he looked over his shoulder, he caught the challenge in her eyes. “I’m going with you to the Underworld.”

  “You are higher than a kite.” He stepped down, waved his hand in a come on motion. “Move your ass, Siren. I don’t have all day.”

  No sound echoed behind him. He looked back across the patio. She stood in the middle of the space with her arms crossed over her chest and her boots shoulder-width apart in a very clear make me pose. “Afraid you might actually need my help, daemon?”

  “I don’t need anyone. And I sure as hell wouldn’t trust you if I did.”

  “No, you wouldn’t, would you? That’s why I moved Maelea. You either take me with you or you can spend the next two weeks searching for her in this mausoleum.”

  He moved back up to the terrace. “No, you didn’t.”

  “Think again, daemon. Maelea knows the people here don’t really want her. She’d happily stay in a hole in the ground if it meant she didn’t hav
e to face them. Trust me when I say she’s locked up safe and sound in a portion of this castle with enough food and water to last her for several weeks at least.”

  There was just enough gloating in her eyes to make him wonder if she’d done exactly what she claimed. “Why, you little—”

  A victorious grin cut across her perfect face. “Ah, now that’s more like it. Have you noticed your eyes don’t turn green anymore when you’re mad?”

  He’d have had more luck following her train of thought if she were speaking in a foreign language. All he knew was that she was fucking with his plans. Fucking with his head again too, standing there looking gorgeous and defiant and totally turned on by his temper.

  He crossed the patio, stopped in front of her. Used his size and strength as intimidation factors. “Tell me where she is.”

  She pursed her lips. “Mm, I don’t think so. Tell me you’re going after your brother.”

  Maelea would be quaking in her shoes. But not Skyla. No, she liked confrontation. “Siren, I’m not in the mood for games.”

  “Oh, but you like games. That’s why you’ve kept me around this long. That and the fact you couldn’t hurt me if you tried. There’s too much honor in you for that.”

  “There’s no honor in me.”

  “Oh yes, daemon. There is. Way more than you think.”

  The last of his patience slipped away. The need to prove he was nothing but the monster that lived inside bubbled through his restraint.

  He grasped her by the bicep, whipped her around so her back was plastered to his chest, and held her immobile. She sucked in a surprised breath but didn’t fight back. “We’re done playing games,” he breathed in her ear. “And your usefulness has run its course. If you don’t want to get hurt, you’ll tell me where Maelea is. And then you’ll do as I said and leave this place for good.”

  Her body trembled against his, but he sensed it wasn’t fear that sent that shiver down her spine. It was arousal. A twisted, wicked, steaming arousal that triggered his own depraved need. A need that locked on tight whenever she was near.

  “Go on,” she whispered, pressing that cute little ass of hers back into his groin. “Hurt me. I dare you.”

  Chapter 16

  Skyla should have been cold. She’d been up on this windy terrace for the last twenty minutes. But everything she’d learned tonight, coupled with what she’d already known, mixed together with the heat from the warrior at her back to fuel the fire in her veins.

  She’d wanted him from the first. Before she’d known who he was. Before she’d realized their connection. Before she’d discovered his soul wasn’t black, as she’d been led to believe.

  She’d wanted him the moment she’d seen him in that crowd. Had been attracted to the danger. To the unpredictability. To the way he said fuck you to the world as if he lived life with no boundaries. Yes, there were moments when she glimpsed Cynurus in him, but the man he’d been before wasn’t what called to her now. What called to her was the man he’d become, daemon and all. At some point over her long, carefully ordered years, she’d forgotten what it felt like to live. She’d forgotten what it felt like to want. He’d brought that back for her.

  Orpheus.

  Her heart skipped double time as she pressed her hips back against his groin again, teasing him with what she knew he’d been watching since they met. “Don’t have it in you daemon? Don’t tell me when it comes right down to it, you’re all talk.”

  “You’re trying to seduce me again, Siren. Comes easy to you, especially when you’re in a bind.” His fingers grazed her breast. She drew in a breath as heat penetrated her skin. “But I’ve been teased enough. We both know you have no intention of following through.”

  This time she did, though. This time it wasn’t about getting what Zeus wanted. It was about getting what she wanted. “Daemon—”

  He grasped her shoulder and whipped her to face him. Before she caught her footing, he picked her up off the ground and tossed her over his shoulder.

  She pressed her hands to the small of his back, tried to angle herself up. “Okay, put me down.”

  His boots clanked as he crossed the veranda. “You want down?”

  He tossed her from his shoulder. Chilled air swept up her spine. A gasp caught in her throat as she felt herself falling. Darkness surrounded her, and for a second she wasn’t sure he hadn’t thrown her over the side of the railing.

  Then her back hit something crunchy soft and icy cold, and she realized he’d dropped her on one of the chaise lounges left up here in the weather. The thin layer of frigid snow matted her hair, sent shivers down her spine. She tried to push herself up, but he straddled her body before she found her feet and grasped both of her hands, yanking them high above her head against the back of the chair, pinning her in place.

  He leaned close, his hot breath washing over her ear to heat her chilled skin, his thighs brushing the outside of her hips to send quivers of delight straight to her center. “I think maybe it’s time you took a turn on the other side. See what it’s like to be the prey instead of the hunter.”

  Her blood heated at the image he painted, and any thought of fighting back quickly fled from her mind. “Planning on seducing me, daemon?”

  His teeth closed over her earlobe. “And then leaving you hot and bothered.”

  Oh, yesssss.

  His kissed the sensitive skin behind her ear, worked his way down her throat. Anticipation curled in her stomach. There was just enough mean in the way he nipped at her flesh to tell her he was good and truly pissed, but it didn’t hurt. And if his plan was to get back at her, he was failing miserably. Because this was exactly what she wanted.

  He captured both of her hands with one of his, slid the other down her torso to cup her breast. While his lips and teeth continued their assault on her throat, she arched her back, offering him whatever he wanted. His mouth stilled against her skin, his hand hesitated over her breast. Knowing she’d just surprised him, her lips curled in a self-satisfied smirk. Until, that is, he grasped her shirt at the neckline and yanked, ripping it in two all the way to her waist.

  She gasped. Struggled beneath his hold. Icy air washed over her torso. In a move too quick to follow, he flicked the front clasp of her bra, freeing her breasts. Her nipples pebbled in the cool air and shivers raced over her flesh. “Orpheus…”

  He let go of her bra, reached over the side of the chaise. When his hand came back she spotted the handful of snow and her eyes grew wide. “Orpheus—”

  “Cold or turned on. Let’s see which it is.”

  He balled the snow together. Her stomach caved in as he brought it toward her skin. Holding her breath, she flicked a look at his gray eyes and saw the flash of arousal hidden behind his wicked stare. No green. No daemon. Just an arousal that superheated her blood all over again.

  She bit her lip and watched as he grazed the ball of snow against the underside of her breast, then slowly circled her nipple. Icy-cold sensations sent gooseflesh all over her body. The snow was so cold, pinpricks of pain stabbed her flesh but quickly melted against her warmth, creating a river of liquid that dripped off her naked breast to splash cool and wet against her belly.

  “I think you like that, Siren.”

  She did. More than she would ever have expected. The circle grew smaller until the icy-cold wetness brushed across her nipple, sending shards of pleasure right to her core. She bit down harder on her lip to keep from moaning, dropped her head back against the chaise, and closed her eyes. Arched her back again. Offered even more.

  He chuckled, moved the snowball to her other breast, repeated the circle, the tease, the wetness and heat. Caught between torment and ecstasy, Skyla lifted her hips and moaned when she felt his erection hovering just above her.

  “Oh, no, no, no. You’re not in charge of this, Siren.”

  He moved away. Let go of her hands. Fabric brushed her hip. Cool air washed over her thighs. She peered up to the twinkling sky above as he tugged her pants
down her legs, exposing every last inch of her.

  Yes.

  She pushed up on her elbows, thankful her pants were stretchy so she could spread her thighs to make room for him. Moonlight washed over his thick hair and broad shoulders. He was still wearing the thin jacket from before, was probably warm and snug in his clothes, while she was out in the elements shivering, but she didn’t care. Because the desire rolling through his gaze was enough to heat whatever chill the night brought with it.

  “I never used ice on you,” she pointed out.

  “Are you cold? I figured for an ice princess like you, this’d be nothing new.”

  A pinprick of hurt cut through her chest, but she pushed it aside, because again he was right. She had been an ice princess. For way too long. But that changed now.

  He trailed the melting snow down her belly to the top of her mound. She sucked in a breath when the ice grazed the sensitive flesh between her legs. Frigid cold water dripped down her overheated skin to pool beneath her ass against the frozen cushion. And though she told herself his twisted torture shouldn’t be turning her on, she knew it was. Cold and hot warred with pleasure and torment as he ran the ice over her clit again and again and jolts of electricity lit up her groin with a heat she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

  She dropped her head back and closed her eyes, this time giving in to the sensations and moaning as she lifted her hips. He kept up the assault on her clit with the ice, but his warm fingers slid lower, against her quivering flesh, then finally inside her where she wanted him most.

  “Oh, yesssss.” Her elbows went out from under her. Her back landed against the now-damp cushion. She groaned, turned herself over to him, all but begged for more. He stroked her clit with the ice, searched deeper with his fingers until all she wanted was more.

  “Definitely enjoying.” He withdrew, pressed back in with a second finger. She gasped at the tight feel and pressed her hips against his strokes. At some point the ice must have melted because she felt his warm fingers against her clit, in stark contrast to the cold, but she was too gone to care how or with what he was touching her. The fiery edges of an orgasm she’d gone too long without hovered just beyond her reach.