BOUND

by Elisabeth Naughton

  “Man, either Zagreus has a serious axe to grind with your queen, or he’s got a hard-on for those nymphs.”

  “It’s the nymphs.” Her stomach rolled. She couldn’t think about what was happening back there. “And she’s not my queen.”

  He looked at her. Seemed on the verge of asking something. She held her breath and waited. She knew he had a thousand questions, and he deserved answers to them all, but they didn’t have time to get into any now. And she didn’t know what she was going to tell him when he finally asked.

  “Which way gets us out of here the fastest?”

  Relief pulsed through her veins. Relief that he hadn’t posed the tough questions. Relief that he wasn’t blaming her for what had happened back there. She was carrying enough guilt over that already. “That way.”

  “Come on.”

  He grasped her hand and pulled her into the darkness of the forest. Shadows and mist surrounded them. The air was cool, slapping at her face, but it didn’t stop the sweat from slicking her skin or the heat that seemed to consume her from the inside out.

  Don’t let it be happening now. She breathed deep and ground her teeth in the silence. She needed more time. Needed to figure out how to get info out of Epimetheus.

  Tingles radiated from Titus’s palm into hers, then up her arm, cooling at least part of her as she limped along next to him. That moment in the shadows, when he’d been tending her wound, slammed back into her. The worry in his eyes. The heady need in his voice. The draw to him that seemed to overpower even her common sense.

  A lump formed in her throat. She didn’t want him dead. Didn’t want him hurt because of her. But the longer they were together, the more volatile she’d become. As soon as they got to safety, she had to figure out a way to lose him once and for all.

  Her thoughts were so messed up, she didn’t hear the roar until Titus tugged on her arm, pulling her to a stop. Her bad leg gave, and pain stabbed through her all over again. He wrapped an arm about her waist and pulled her close, keeping her from going down.

  Gods, he felt good. So cool where she was hot. Even through the thick fabric of the military-style coat they’d picked up, he was like a breath of fresh air, easing the fever growing inside her.

  “That doesn’t sound like a stream,” he muttered.

  She strained to listen. And caught the faint roar reverberating through the misty trees.

  “It’s not.” Panic closed in. They’d been heading toward the coast, not into the hills away from danger, like she’d thought. She always got turned around in these damn trees. “I—”

  Hooves pounded the earth. Shouts echoed at their backs. Natasa whipped around. Six, seven…no, more like ten satyrs were bearing down on them.

  “Skata.” Titus stepped in front of her and lifted the blade in his hand. “Go!”

  She reached back for her dagger. “I can fight.”

  “You’re pale as shit, and you can barely stand. Get the hell out of here before it’s too late!”

  He was protecting her again. Even after everything she’d gotten him into. Something in her chest cinched down tight. Something she didn’t understand and wasn’t prepared for. Something that told her losing him was no longer an option.

  “Go!”

  Her temper flared. The heat inside her grew stronger. “Not without you.” She grasped the sleeve of his open coat and pulled hard. “I didn’t just betray the people who were protecting me so you could get yourself killed by some freakin’ satyrs.”

  “Natasa—”

  A crash echoed through the underbrush. Natasa twisted that direction. Instinct ruled before thought. She lifted her hand toward the satyr now only yards away. Heat and energy erupted in her palm. A fireball shot through the air, hit the beast in the chest, and ignited his coat in flames.

  A scream tore through the trees. Hooves skidded against the earth. Shouts reverberated. Natasa’s eyes widened at what she’d just done.

  “Holy Hades,” Titus gasped. “How did you do that?”

  “I don’t…” She looked at her palm, then glanced back at the flaming beast rolling across the ground. Shock and sickness pooled in her stomach. “I don’t know.”

  “Do it again.”

  Openmouthed, she glanced past the satyr she’d hit, toward what Titus was staring at. More beasts. Dozens of them, racing their way. And through the mist and trees and red glow of flames, a man astride a giant black horse. Only he wasn’t just a man. Even from this distance, Natasa could feel the power and darkness radiating from his body.

  “Do it again, right now,” Titus said more urgently. “That’s Zagreus.”

  Fear shot through every inch of Natasa. Hades was hunting her—all the gods were. If he’d had any suspicion she’d been hiding out with the Amazons, of course he’d send his son, the greatest tracker on the planet, to chase her down. She’d been stupid to think she was safe here. Especially after those nymphs arrived.

  She wasn’t going to be caught. Not by any god, and not by the Prince of Darkness. Her body took over. Thought fled. She turned and ran.

  “Natasa!”

  She didn’t stop. Didn’t think about her wound. She tore through the trees. Then skidded to a halt when she reached the edge of a cliff overlooking the churning Pacific.

  Titus drew up short at her side, breath heavy. Waves crashed against rocks fifty feet below, and the sound of hooves closing in at their backs grew louder.

  “Shit,” Titus muttered. “If you have any idea how you hurled that fireball, you better do it again. Fast.”

  Natasa jerked around, realizing too late that instead of sprinting away, she’d run right into a trap. In her panic, she’d lead them out onto some kind of point. There were no more trees, only rocks beneath their feet and a drop-off to darkness and swirling danger in every direction.

  She lifted her hand and tried to conjure the same energy she’d created before. Nothing happened.

  “It’s not working.” Fear tightened her throat and caused her voice to rise. “It’s not working! What do we do?”

  “Skata.” Titus grasped her arm tight at the biceps and jerked her back toward the ledge. “We jump.”

  Chapter Nine

  The frigid water tore the air from Titus’s lungs. His body rolled through churning waves and slammed into stone. Pain, like a thousand tiny knives, stabbed at every inch of his skin, but he braced his feet on the rocks, pushed away, and kicked hard, swimming toward what he hoped was the surface.

  Somewhere on the way down, Natasa had let go of his hand. Panic spread beneath his ribs as he gasped in the cool night air. The waves lifted and lowered his body, crashing in churning white foam against the cliff. Darkness surrounded him while water ran in rivulets down his face, blurring his vision.

  He treaded water, turned a circle, and searched for her in the darkness, not wanting to call out and alert the beasts above to where he—they—had landed. But he couldn’t find her. Panic turned to bone-melting fear. If she’d been swept out to sea or thrown against those rocks…

  Water splashed, followed by her head breaking the surface not ten feet from him.

  Thank you, Dimiourgos.

  She was gasping for air when he reached her. He pulled her tight against him and whispered, “Don’t make any sound.”

  Her hands landed against his bare chest. Her body pressed up tight to his. His open coat floated around them. “Where are they?”

  He looked up toward the cliff. It was so dark—no moon—that he couldn’t see more than a few feet. The sound of pounding surf twenty yards away was his only source of information on the distant to the cliffs.

  “I don’t know.” He wrapped his arms around her slim body, holding her close. He didn’t want to make a move for land until he knew they were safe. “If we’re lucky, they’ll either think we’re dead or that we’re too much trouble to come after.”

  “If we’re lucky,” she whispered. “We haven’t been lucky yet.”

  He couldn’t see much more
than the whites of her eyes. He shivered again, but damn, her heat felt so good against him, he didn’t care.

  He wasn’t sure about the luck part. Yeah, he was isolated from Argonauts, still wasn’t any closer to figuring out who she was, and because of her, he’d almost been sacrificed in a pretty twisted Amazon sex ceremony, but this wasn’t the worst date he’d ever had. In fact, he wasn’t all that upset over the events of the night. Because no matter what, they were still together.

  You are so fucking screwed. One touch and you’re obsessed.

  Obsessed was pretty accurate. He’d been obsessed with her since the moment he’d touched her back at the colony. Obviously, he hadn’t been using his legendary brain much. He wasn’t sure why Phin and Orpheus hadn’t followed him through the portal, but he knew the Argonauts had to be looking for him. And twisted as it was, even if he could alert Theron and the others as to his location, he wasn’t ready. Not yet. He wanted more time alone with the gorgeous creature clinging to him like he was her last lifeline.

  “You’re shivering,” she said softly. “You have to get out of this water. We can’t wait much longer. Stay close to me while we try to get to shore. I’ll keep you warm.”

  He hadn’t even noticed he was shivering until she pointed it out. That was how gone he was around her. But he knew she was right. Even with her abnormally strong heat plastered to his front, it wasn’t going to take long for his body temperature to drop and for hypothermia to set in. “Wh-why aren’t you shaking from the cold? And wh-why are you always so warm?”

  Damn, he sounded really tough right now, didn’t he?

  She tore her gaze away from his and grabbed on to his hand. “We’ll skirt the edge of the cliff. Try to see if there’s a ledge of some kind.”

  “O-okay.” A rush of frigid water washed over his abdomen, sending another series of shivers all through his body. He was too cold to argue right now.

  Water splashed in his face. He swam with one arm, trying to keep his head above the surface, trying to stay focused in the ice-cold liquid. Wave energy grabbed on and pulled them in. He hit the rocks with a grunt, turned, and reached for Natasa. Another wave dragged them under, and he kicked hard, pushing them back up to the surface.

  Son of a bitch… He shook the wet hair from his eyes… Couldn’t see shit. Just a little light so they could figure out where the hell they were… Was that too much to ask?

  And then, as if a Fate had actually been listening—which he knew wasn’t the case because the Fate’s had abandoned his ass a long time ago—the dark clouds parted. Moonlight shone down, illuminating the cliff, the white-capped waves, and near the point, a rocky ledge and what looked to be a cave beyond.

  “Tasa,” he managed, his teeth knocking together. “There. Swim hard.”

  He couldn’t feel his fingers or toes. The water grew thicker. More like syrup than surf.

  “Just a little farther, Titus. Come on.”

  His vision blurred again. The rocks came and went. A hand tugged at his arm. A warm hand. One that felt so damn good. Tremors racked his body. The hand pulled hard, and then he broke the surface and cold stone pressed against his torso.

  Natasa’s other hand wrapped around his shoulder, yanking him out of the water. He rolled to his back on the rocky ledge, drawing frigid air into his lungs. He closed his eyes and focused on breathing. Gods, he was tired. That had taken a lot more energy than he’d thought.

  “Don’t pass out. Come on.”

  More tugging. She forced him to sit up. Wind chilled his cheeks and lips, but he didn’t care. He liked that voice. Really liked it. He couldn’t remember why but he only wanted to hear more of it.

  “Stand up. It’s not far.”

  The room swayed—was he in a room?—he didn’t know. Water—yeah, that was water—squished between his toes. The scents of salt and seaweed filled his nose. Something warm brushed his chest.

  Hands grasped his jacket, yanking it from his shoulders. The garment fell to the ground at his feet. “Sit.”

  He moved as if on autopilot. This uncontrollable shaking was really irritating. Wrapping his arms around his bare waist, he lowered himself to the ground. Rocks pressed against his ass and spine.

  Thoughts came and went. Water. Cold. Night. “We…need…to make…a…fire.”

  “No time for that. You’re already hypothermic.”

  Hypothermic? Okay, yeah. That wasn’t good. Fabric rasped. A thud echoed. Hands tugged him forward, away from the rocks at his back, and then warmth closed in from every side.

  He trembled again, then sighed as heat seeped into his skin, surrounded him, consumed him. His eyes slid closed. His breaths slowed and evened. In a daze, he realized Natasa was at his back, leaning against the rocks, pulling him in to the radiating heat of her body. Her mostly naked body.

  Her arms wrapped around his torso, her legs around his waist. And wow, her bare skin felt good. So hot. So right.

  She ran her hands up and down his chilled arms, across his chest, stimulating blood flow. Her warm breath spread down his neck, sending another quake through every inch of him. She tightened her arms and squeezed her legs to hold him tighter. And though he still shivered from the cold, he leaned his head back into the hollow between her shoulder and neck and smiled. All he had to do was shake a little and she’d plaster that hot little body against his? He could work with that.

  “You’re smiling,” she whispered. “I’ll take that as a good sign.”

  “You feel good. Been a long time.”

  She was silent for a moment, then said, “How long?”

  His smile grew wider. A wicked shot of heat rolled through his groin. “Nine inches. At least. Maybe more. Definitely more.”

  She chuckled, and though he knew it couldn’t be, even more warmth seeped into him with the movement. “That’s not what I meant. Though I’m now suddenly glad Aella didn’t get to see that for herself. What I meant was, how long has it been since someone’s been able to touch you?”

  His smile faded, and his mind spun out across the years. Reminding him of things he’d done, things he shouldn’t have done, things he wished he could change. “A hundred years.”

  “I know Argonauts have long life spans, but…really? Have you always not been able to touch?”

  “No. I’m a hundred and sixty-seven. The no-touching thing was a curse.”

  “From whom?”

  He sighed, snuggling back deeper against her body. She answered by holding him even tighter—which he liked. “A witch.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I used her.”

  “Her powers?”

  He shook his head. “When I was younger, right after I joined the Argonauts and learned how to use my gift, I didn’t often think about who I was using it on.”

  “What kind of gifts? Do you mean your fighting abilities?”

  He wasn’t sure why he was telling her this. He’d never told anyone. But he couldn’t seem to stop his lips from moving. And part of him didn’t want to. Maybe it was the hypothermia making his brain soft. “No. I can read others’ thoughts.”

  “What?”

  Her torso grew warmer against his spine and shoulders but not across the middle of his back. Was she wearing a bra? Damn, he really wished she’d taken that off too. Wanted to feel her nipples pressing into his skin.

  “Can you read mine?”

  Her voice pulled him from remembering her tongue sliding against his, the way she’d straddled his hips, what he’d wanted to do to her before they’d been interrupted. “Not yours. Not always. Every now and then a word gets through, but it’s not enough to know what you’re thinking. You seem to affect me in many different, unusual ways, ligos Vesuvius.”

  She was silent for a minute. Then relaxed against him. “So what happened? With the witch?”

  Maybe she did like it. She didn’t seem upset or on edge as he’d expected. He let her warmth cradle and soothe his tired body. “We had a fling. It wasn’t serious on my part. But w
hen she figured out I’d read her mind and used that to get her in bed, she wasn’t happy.”

  “I bet not.”

  Her hands were still gently rubbing up and down his arms, and he took that as a good sign. If he’d shocked her with that revelation, she wasn’t showing it. “I felt bad, but, honestly, I was young. I didn’t care about anyone but myself.”

  “So she cursed you?”

  Regret burned like a hot, sharp knife. “To touch others and feel everything they do. Every emotion I’d ignored. And then she killed herself.”

  “Oh.”

  The regret built and condensed beneath his breastbone, just as it did every time he let himself think of the past. He’d been young and stupid, and he’d deserved what that witch had done to him, but he was tired of dwelling on the past. He’d learned his lesson. Now he only wanted to go on enjoying the relief Natasa could give him—for however long it lasted. “By dying, she pretty much guaranteed that curse would never be broken. Until you.”

  Her chest rose and fell with her slow breaths. And in the silence, he wondered what she was thinking. He liked that he couldn’t read her. Liked that she was a mystery, because unraveling that mystery was becoming a challenge he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about. But right now, he wanted to know if what he’d told her had changed things between them.

  Exhaustion tugged at him. He fought it, waiting for her to say something—anything—but she remained quiet. Water crashed against the rocks, a rhythmic whoosh and slap that lulled him, relaxed him, and made him sink deeper into her heat. Vaguely, he remembered there was something they were running from. Something he should be worried about but couldn’t totally remember. And honestly, right now he didn’t care. All he wanted was to go on enjoying this moment, in case it didn’t last.

  He drew in another breath. Felt the sticky fingers of sleep and finally gave over to the darkness. But as he drifted off, he heard her voice. Soft. Sexy. So damn alluring, it conjured fantasies that swirled behind his eyelids and warmed places she wasn’t even touching. Places he wanted her to touch. At least once.

  “I know all about being cursed. But I’m not your savior, Titus. And when you realize what it is about me that affects you, I have a feeling you won’t be so anxious to help me anymore.”