Regarding his son beside him, Thereus refused to forsake Lucian. He’d reunite his family, or die trying. The latter held no appeal for him. He’d never cowered from any task and he wouldn’t begin now. His fingers rubbed his bonding mark, which hadn’t ceased its slow, torturous burn since Melita’s transformation. The days passed, and he waited, shuffling his hooves in impatience, for the glow of the violet goddess.
“Thereus!” Agrius trotted toward him. Ah, come again to beat sense into him. He grinned. It was useless, yet centaurs were stubborn creatures.
Every afternoon Agrius came. Today, he squatted with a grumble. “Hard rain yesterday.”
Thereus grunted a response. A little water wouldn’t keep him from Melita.
“You have duties, brother. At the castle. Melita took care of everyone. Now, that’s your responsibility. We all mourn her.” He squeezed Thereus’s shoulder. “Yet time has not stopped. She didn’t wish for you to rescue her. She wanted you to care for the ones she loved. Why can’t you trust her judgment?”
Thereus snorted. “You think it would come so easily, if Eione was the one transformed? No, brother. Don’t pretend to fathom my suffering. I need her.” He stroked the tree’s bark. “She needs me, too. I can’t explain it, I can only sense it. She may have chosen this, but she was desperate. She wished to save everyone, and she did.” He was proud of her, and bloody furious too that she had been so selfless. “That doesn’t mean this is her fate. Love can make even the impossible come true.” Fortified, Thereus stood and straightened his vest.
Agrius eyed him. “What are you doing?”
“You’re right. I must tend to matters.”
Agrius shifted to his feet while Thereus stretched his neck. He was damn sore after sitting for so long. “Oh, no, you’re staying.”
“What?”
“I’ll go and do what I must, but I trust none other to guard her.” He seized Lucian’s hand.
“W-wait,” Agrius sputtered. “She’s a tree, Thereus. She’s not going anywhere. She doesn’t require a guard.”
Thereus winked at him and galloped to Westgard. Agrius would do as he’d asked. He smirked. Even his brother had referred to his tree as “she.” Deep in his gut, he had faith the goddess would prove successful. He whistled low. Nothing came free. What he asked was enormous, the price would be as well. His gut told him Westgard was it.
What Persephone desired was her army, with Thereus leading the centaurs, Melita at his side. His love would strengthen her, just as Arsenius’s did Kyme.
He snorted. Well, Hades was a strategist. He chose his commanders with care. Thereus wouldn’t see much of Westgard, at least not for a while. Someone had to run it. He only trusted one person completely, other than his brothers. They had too much responsibility themselves, but this person, she was perfect.
“Alkippe.” He grinned as the shock of his appearance fluttered across her face.
“Milord.” She curtseyed.
“I must speak with you. Follow me.” He entrusted Lucian to his nursemaid and led Alkippe to his study. “Please, sit.” He waved to a chair. She did so, her hands wrenched together so tightly they paled.
“Relax, centauress. I’m here because…” He searched for the right words. “I must save her, Alkippe.” He gazed deep into her greying eyes. Tears swelled inside them.
“I understand, milord.” Of all people, Alkippe wanted them together more than anyone. She loved Melita like her daughter, and she alone would not question his motives or methods.
“The goddess Persephone will aid us, but she’ll require our loyalty in exchange. We won’t be able to remain at Westgard.”
Alkippe jumped out of her seat. “Milord, no.”
He held up a hand. “It must be done. I’d abdicate a thousand kingdoms for Melita. Whatever it takes.”
Sadness reigned in her frown. “That nymph life is not meant for one such as her. Melita has too much love in her, to have it stripped away. Too much joy to never share it again. You do anything you must to get her back, Thereus.”
He smiled at her. Precisely what he’d hoped to hear. “I must ask a favor of you. Would you oversee Westgard in my stead?”
Protests stuttered from her lips. “I’m not—”
He waved them away. “You treasure this place more than anyone. You and Melita have cared for Westgard for five years. If possible, I will visit. I’ll ensure my brothers look after you. You need not concern yourself over any finances, for I’ve more than enough.”
Satisfied he’d countered each of her possible arguments, Thereus grinned at Alkippe. “Maintain Westgard until Lucian is of age.”
Relief flooded her smile. “Oh, of course, milord.”
That task wouldn’t seem so daunting. His grin widened at his gratitude for her presence. If he had to desert his home, he trusted no one else with its care. After writing out detailed instructions, Thereus departed Westgard. His heart grew heavy with the notion of leaving, but one day he’d return.
Besides, he recalled what Melita had said to him once.
She was his home.
***
Another week had passed and no Persephone. Thereus grumbled. Was this to be a test of his patience? If so, he’d gladly admit failure and cease this bloody waiting.
Everyone in his lands likely concluded he’d gone mad. Only Alkippe and Lucian’s visits comforted him. Gods, how he missed Melita. Some days, he dared not close his eyes, for the second he did, she assaulted his senses. Her scent, her soft feminine body.
As much as his heart missed her, he was still a centaur. His cock continually reminded him of that. He needed her, in every way. Memories of claiming her haunted him. Too many times he awoke, sweaty and panting, in the middle of a dream where he’d been about to take her. His body was in agony, on fire for a lust he was unable to quench. Even if this plan of his failed, he’d never be able to claim another female.
Oreius had confided as much in him. The centaur had lived the past ten years in abstinence. A decade of celibacy? Thereus snorted. But then, his stomach coiled at the idea of being inside anyone else. It must drive Oreius mad; no wonder he was so surly. How could there be joy in one’s life when one’s sun was taken away?
Thereus shook himself. He’d rather live in eternal darkness with Melita than blissful sunlight without her. Huffing, he settled against her trunk. As he studied the clouds, a faint scent of lilac drifted toward him.
Persephone. His gut clenched. What news would she bring? He scrambled to his feet and spun until he spotted her. This time, he bowed.
“Be at ease, warrior,” she whispered, sounding very weary.
Bloody hell to being at ease. His insides were about to become his outsides. He didn’t even dare raise his head toward her.
“I have found a solution.”
Exhaling hard, he peered up. No jesting. She spoke the truth.
“Tell me.”
“Know this, centaur. What you ask comes at a great price. And great peril. I guarantee you nothing, except that should you fail, eternal torment shall be yours.”
Delightful. “Tell me.” He stood firm.
“When a nymph chooses this death, she travels to another realm. It’s not governed by any of the gods. That is why we cannot bring nymphs back. Moreover, we cannot venture there. It is their sanctuary.” Persephone stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on Thereus’s arm. “You must understand, Thereus, Melita is at peace. She is with her people, her mother. She has no memory of you, or Lucian. She suffers no pain, no sadness. She wants for nothing. If you do this, you will restore her to a world full of suffering and she will never again be able to venture to the sanctuary of her people. She will be forever separated from her kind.” She dropped her hand and took a step back.
Thereus shoved a hand through his hair. Persephone’s argument sounded logical. Deep in his gut, he sensed Melita wasn’t content. Was that truth, or did he simply wish to believe it so? Would he be able to let her go if he had proof she was truly at
peace?
“There is more.” An ominous warning echoed in Persephone’s voice. “Should I open this Portal for you, I risk much. Gods are not permitted. The others on Olympus must never become aware of her existence. Especially not…” She paused, her eyes flashing a vibrant violet. “Apollo. I fear he may have been the viper poisoning Philaeus’s ear.”
Thereus swallowed the thickness of dread in his throat. Apollo, the sun god, sought his Melita? To fight against Hades’s army in the War? If the opposing army laid claim to Lapith fealty, the war between Lapiths and centaurs hadn’t been prevented, merely interrupted.
Had his Melita sacrificed herself for naught? True, she’d prevented one battle, but the War loomed. Determination flooded him. He must save her.
“If you do this,” Persephone folded her hands in front of her, “Melita must be hidden away. Only two places exist where she will be safe.”
He met her level stare. “The Underworld and Halcyon. The gods do not possess this knowledge, so how do you?”
Persephone paled. “My mother told me.”
He searched her face and the pain in her eyes made him wince as if someone punched him in the gut. What had she traded for the information? Gods knew, the only thing Demeter coveted was her daughter.
She pursed her lips. “A month.”
He bowed his head once more. Persephone and Hades had only three months of each year together. ’Twas rumored, they suffered immeasurably when they were apart. Persephone had surrendered another month with Hades for him.
In that moment, he decided her cause was one he’d die for. He’d repay her, somehow. Steeling his resolve, he lifted his face. “Halcyon. I’ll ensure no one learns of her. Your sacrifice will be honored. I swear my loyalty to you and to Hades. Tell me what I must do. I vow I won’t fail.”
“I’ll open a Portal to her realm, but as I cannot venture there, you must go alone.” Persephone studied him. Testing his conviction? “It will not be easy, warrior. Their realm is not like ours. She has no body. Her essence exists in a sea of others, thousands. You might wander for years. If you can locate her, you must convince her to return with you. If she refuses, you cannot force her. If she agrees, place her essence inside.” A small silver locket shimmered on her open palm.
“May the Fates smile upon you,” she whispered as she placed the locket around his neck.
“Thank you, great goddess.” He bowed his head. She cast him a nod of reassurance, laced with trepidation, before approaching the tree.
As she laid her hands on Melita, Thereus suppressed the urge to growl. He had to remind his horse Persephone was saving Melita. He must trust her.
She illuminated both herself and the tree. A small swirling Portal opened, seemingly into the tree. The Portal expanded, until it spread across the entire trunk.
He didn’t have to be told what to do. Thereus formed an image of Melita in his mind and leapt into the Portal.
***
The warmth was gone again. She grew restless. Each time the creature left her, the word empty became more unbearable. Did she care for the creature? Ridiculous. Her kind didn’t love.
The others were confused by her. They whispered of her peculiarity, of how she didn’t belong. She yearned to experience emotions, to recall her life.
They’d been wrong. In this realm, she found no peace. Time passed. Slowly. Sometimes the warmth was with her, sometimes it was gone. She ached when the creature was gone. The little warmth too. That one brought her much comfort. Perhaps joy as well, but she couldn’t be certain. None of the others knew the word.
The one called Mother stayed close, but her comfort was no match for the warmth of her companion.
Over time, the whispers grew louder. Louder and louder. One day, everything stopped. The voices were silent.
“Goddess.” They chanted the word.
This goddess had returned? Why? Another wave of silence. Followed by a blast of shock. She’d never witnessed the others in upheaval like this. What had caused them to be so quiet?
“There is a new other,” Mother declared. “This one is different.”
“How?” she asked.
“This one is male.”
Impossible! Confusion blasted through their realm. Their kind consisted only of females. Those males born of nymph mothers were not permitted. Surely they were mistaken. Curiosity nudged at her and she drifted toward this new other.
The instant she detected his presence, a bolt of awareness shot through her being.
He couldn’t breathe. Struggle as he might, Thereus’s lungs sucked in no air. After a few minutes of gulping in nothing, he grasped he didn’t have to breathe. Hell, Persephone hadn’t been joking when she’d declared this realm was different.
In the blackness, he prodded for his neck, only he didn’t have one. No neck, no hands. A mild panic set in. Mild, bloody hell. He was used to switching between human and centaur forms, but here he had no form.
A different sense prevailed. An unusual sensation, like floating on water. Not that dissimilar from the brief second he was between human and centaur forms.
Why hadn’t Persephone mentioned this? He cursed again. She probably hadn’t known. If he located Melita, how was he supposed to collect her? The locket had vanished along with his physical body.
With no form, he possessed no eyes. Thankfully, no matter what direction he veered, he determined the Portal, and his exit. So long as he possessed awareness of it, he wouldn’t be trapped.
Persephone had said there would be many others in this realm, but he didn’t spot any. Sudden pain lanced through him as his every sense was assaulted.
A cacophony of voices railed against him. Hundreds, thousands, millions? Speaking to him? At him? His mind scrambled in futility to separate even a single voice from that mess. The thunder paralyzed him. He’d only ever come across such noise on a battlefield, but nothing compared to this din. These voices, they invaded his mind. Poked and prodded at him like a bull herded.
Despair struck him. He’d never locate Melita in this deluge. How the hell was he supposed to identify her? He wasn’t able to scent her out, couldn’t see her or sort through the voices. Hell, they all sounded the same. Bloody futile.
Grief consumed him. He’d been so sure his love would lead him to her, but clearly, he’d been a damned fool. The Portal behind him beckoned, yet his heart would break if he departed without her.
What had the goddess said? How did time pass in this place? How long had he been gone? Would he return to find Lucian a grown centaur? Gods forbid, no.
He had no idea what to do, his cocky arrogance for once failing him. Damn, he’d failed them. The voices screamed at him. Make them stop! He cringed in agony while his attempts to reason amongst this debilitating pain crumbled.
***
She lit up at the male’s essence. Familiar. Her sisters gathered around him, trapping him in their storm cloud of voices. The male said nothing. He answered none of their questions.
The bold outline of his unique essence indicated he was not like them.
He was an “other” other. Was he lost? Why was he here? She swayed closer and the fire burned hotter. Deep inside, her essence stirred. This male was…
Mine.
She recalled the moment she’d arrived, how the voices had at first overwhelmed her. Poor male, was that it? She growled, an instinct to protect him rising. “Away, quiet. Leave him!” Her voice cried louder than the others. They gasped at her in astonishment, yet they did as she asked. She was likely as peculiar to them as this new intruder.
The others dispersed. Silence spanned the distance between her and this new essence. Commanding her courage, she connected her mind to his.
Images, sensations, flooded her. She stumbled backward. Impossible. She should not be able to see anything, yet she did.
A dark man’s laughing emerald eyes. The small hand of a child wrapped in a larger, feminine one. A stream of others flashed through her mind faster than she was able to p
rocess.
Emotions. Amazing. Pain, sorrow, joy, lust. They hammered against her until she could bear it no more and dismissed them from her essence. Recovering, she studied the male.
What was he that he could do these things? In her realm, no such sensations existed, and yet he possessed them. She ought to be terrified, had she been capable of such sentiments. Or at least cautious, but she was drawn to him. To his warmth.
Yes, that was the attraction. He was warm, familiar. Like the creature who kept her tree company. Was he the same? Her essence sparked. More. There was more. Had she known him in her mortal life? Had she loved him?
Too curious to be wary, she approached him again. “Who are you, and why are you here?”
The male didn’t answer. Or was it that he couldn’t answer? Perhaps he didn’t understand their method of communicating.
“Melita.” The word was forced, barely a rasp.
Her essence pulsed in puzzlement. The word meant nothing to her. “What is Melita?”
“Mine,” came the answer, feral and possessive.
A shiver coursed through her being. Regarding the male more closely, she determined she’d underestimated him. He was neither weak nor timid. This male exuded power. Strength. As she connected with him again, heat seared through her as though someone set fire to her branches. But no, the heat emanated from within. He ignited it. The fire burned hotter. Brighter.
“Melita, it’s you.” His essence enveloped hers. Was she the one he sought, this Melita?
“I don’t know,” she confessed.
He withdrew, cringing as though her words caused him pain. Poor male. Some part of her wished it to be true, a bigger part tensed in apprehension. What was his purpose? These emotions he made her experience, they were not for her kind. Why had he come here to disrupt her promised pleasant existence?
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