“He’s not going to abduct me,” she whispered, the words clogging her throat.
“What, my love?” Oreius cupped her chin in both his large hands.
She raised her gaze and met his. “Deimos. He won’t attack me, not here.” A shudder quivered through her body. “He’s going after my well.”
“No.” His thick brows drew together. “No, Nysa. He wouldn’t—”
“He would.” She wrung her fingers. “If he tears down my well, I’ll vanish.”
“That’s not happening.” He crushed her against his chest, as though he could force her physical form to meld to his.
“There’s only one way to stop him.” She pressed her hands against his chest and pushed away to glance up at him. “You have to find my well before he does.”
“And cross into enemy lands.” He grimaced. “If they don’t shoot me first, how can you be certain I’ll arrive before him? He may have taken a Portal.”
“I know.” She caressed his cheek, fingers stroking along his thick locks. “We have to go together. I can lead you to it.”
“This is a most fool-headed scheme, lass.” He tossed his head.
“Then we’d better hurry.”
He seized her hand. “Aye, let’s—”
“Argh!” Lancing pain sliced across her middle and she collapsed onto the ground. She gripped her stomach, warm liquid oozing between her fingers. Fear spiked through her. They were too late. “He’s destroying my well.”
“Nysa, no!” Oreius’s dark eyes pleaded.
Another slash cut across her arm and the limb melted into a puddle. She gasped as terror shot through her and clutched at Oreius’s shirt with her remaining hand. “Only you can save me now.”
Her hand fell limp and she blinked through her tears. “I love you, Oreius.”
No! Oreius howled in helpless frustration while Nysa’s body burst into splattering spurts of water before his eyes.
There was nothing he could do to save her.
He shoved his fist into his mouth and bit down on the thousands of curses pouring through his mind. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he blinked through his blurry vision as Nysa’s body succumbed to one final blow, shattering into thousands of liquid crystals.
He clawed at the grass, the dirt mingling with the water, turning to mud in his hands.
She’s not here. He forced the words into his mind.
That scoundrel had struck down her well. But Nysa wasn’t gone. She was a nymph, and bound to the stones which formed her well.
There was only one way left to save her. Rebuild her well.
Right. He clenched his hand into a fist and pounded it once into the earth. No way in hell would he stand by while another woman he loved was lost to him.
Nysa’s destiny wasn’t finished. It was connected to his own.
“What happened?” Agrius sprinted to his side, slowing as he took in the vanishing puddle.
Oreius shook his head. “That bastard cut down her well. And now, I’ll do the same to him.”
Agrius clamped a hand onto his shoulder. “Let’s go, my brother. I will get you across the Lapith border. Eione and I have been using a secret route. It should get you close to where her well is located.”
“Thank you.” He squeezed his hand on top of Agrius’s, rose, and followed the male to the Portal.
They traveled through the Portal to Agrius’s castle at South Glen, the closest to Nysa’s well, and then galloped toward the border.
Agrius had indeed spoken truth. An underground tunnel lay concealed beneath a hillside. He spoke the passwords to release the wards, and the two brothers sprinted along the tunnel. As they neared the entrance into Lapith territory, Oreius slowed. “This is as far as you can come, my brother.” He inclined his head. “You have a mate and a babe. I would not endanger you.”
Stubborn Agrius frowned, but Oreius held up a hand to halt his arguments. “I will not waiver in this. Eione would fire an arrow at me if I permitted you to come along, and we all know what a great archer she is.”
Agrius chuckled. “Aye, very well.”
“Care for my sons. I will return, triumphant.”
“I have no doubt that you will. May the gods protect you both.” He slapped Oreius on the back. “You’d best hurry.”
“Thank you.” He embraced Agrius and stole toward the opening. After listening for a minute, he detected only innocuous forest sounds. A bird cheeping. A rush of water.
He sniffed, and a sweet scent permeated the air, similar to…
Nysa.
He dashed out of the tunnel, following the scent of her waters. Though his centaur state would be a risk, he was also able to sprint much faster. The rush of water grew louder and soon he came upon a cascading waterfall.
Oreius slowed his pace, treading cautiously between the trees forming the dense forest. Senses straining, he tensed, but no one else occupied the woods.
He passed through a cave behind the waterfall and out into a meadow. An axe rested beside a pile of rubble. The stones of Nysa’s well, hacked to pieces. He fell to his knees and dropped his head into his hands. Dread tightened his throat. Was he too late?
Was there no saving Nysa now?
***
Nysa groaned and rolled onto her side. Stinging vibrations hummed through her body and she clutched her bare middle.
Nude?
Oh, not again. She dragged herself to her knees, scanning the dank chamber.
“Well, how do you like this? Now, you’re my prisoner.” The cool voice rippled beneath her skin and she shivered. Deimos.
“Don’t you mean ‘again’?” She snorted and faced him.
He shrugged, leaning forward against the bars on the opposite side of her cell. “Either way, you won’t ever be freed.”
Dread sank into the pit of her stomach. “What have you done with my well?”
“It’s gone, Nysa.” A cruel smirk spanned his lips. “I don’t require it anymore, and there’s just enough water left in you for what I have planned.”
My well is gone. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “How did I get here?”
“Clever nymph, can’t you guess? Spilling your water transports you.” He scoffed. “Well, not anymore. Your spring is dried up and the only water left to spill…is your blood.”
Her nails dug into her palms. “I dare you to try.”
“Oh, there’s no use in fighting me, darling.” Deimos stepped aside, revealing another man. “Because you’re going to kneel and bleed before your new King.”
She gaped at the eloquently groomed and dressed male sneering at her. Lapiths lands meant he must be King Philaeus. This was the male who’d forced Thereus’s nymph mate, Melita, to transform into a tree.
She clenched her fists tighter, glaring at the fiend’s haughty grin.
“You’ve done well, Deimos.” Philaeus nodded to the male, who beamed beneath his praise.
Deimos had stolen her waters for him. By the adoring smile on his face, the King was the object of Deimos’s devotion.
Even if Philaeus reciprocated the affection, her waters would have numbed him against any emotion.
Philaeus was a detached and dispassionate villain. Their enemy.
And her captor.
***
Oreius shoved his hands through his locks. Think.
There had to be a way to restore this well, to save Nysa. How? He dug through the bottom stones, but the waters were gone, and his hands sifted through dry soil.
He wouldn’t give up on her, and he refused to lose her.
Where was she? Had she ventured to the sacred place of her people, as Melita had?
Or had Deimos somehow devised another way to trap her?
He stared at the stones for so long they blurred together in his vision and formed a solid block.
His skin pricked and he straightened. The stones were split, but not crushed to dust. What if he rebuilt her well? The smallest possibility existed that she might be restored
if her well was too.
He grimaced. But not here amidst all this destruction.
Yes, he would rebuild her well, where no villainous Lapith would ever harm her again.
Oreius removed his saddlebags and stuffed the stones inside them, gathering each one. He couldn’t leave any of them behind.
Once the stones rested against his flanks, he studied the meadow and heaved a deep sigh. By the gods, he prayed this was the right course. After he galloped through the forest toward the cave entrance, he followed the tunnel back to Agrius’s lands and then to his home. He dashed to his castle for supplies and sprinted through the woods, searching for the perfect location. Where to build her well?
There. The ancient ruins she’d tumbled into. Nysa had told him a spring existed here. He leapt into the sunken hole and strode to the light trickling of water. Aye, this place.
Oreius lowered the stones off his back and withdrew them from the saddlebags. One by one, he arranged the stones and bound them with mortar. Finally, he slid the last rock into place. Two feet wide and four feet tall, the glistening grey stones formed a column, the opening in the middle void of any water.
He knelt beside the well, head bent, and murmured prayers to the goddess Persephone. His people had pledged themselves to Hades and his wife, and they damn well could aid Oreius in recovering his mate.
Although, Thereus hadn’t been so fortunate.
Frowning, he lifted his head. This wouldn’t work. What he required was water. Nysa’s water.
The well’s former location had been utterly depleted. There wasn’t a drop remaining of her water anywhere, except…
That bloody flask.
The one Agrius and Eione had gifted him.
Damn. He raced back inside his castle and flung through the items on the shelves inside his study, uncovering the silver flask from beneath a pile of books. Hands trembling, he uncorked the bottle. Oreius peered inside, squinting and rolling the opening toward the flickering candlelight.
One drop.
A single bead glistened from within the flask.
One chance to save his mate.
But how?
His hearts gave dejected thumps. What was he supposed to do? Spill the water on the ground, pour it into the well, or…
Ah, yes. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his love for Nysa.
Return to me.
He pressed the flask to his lips, tilted back the bottle, and swallowed.
***
Nysa groaned a frustrated huff as Deimos dragged her, wrists bound by a long clanking chain, toward the male seated upon an ebony throne.
Philaeus.
She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Together, these two men had soiled her pure waters. Had purposed them for evil intents.
She refused to aid them further.
Even if it meant her death.
Deimos tugged her closer to the throne, and she tripped forward, falling to her knees.
Both men chortled at her, and Deimos stamped on her spine with his boot, forcing her to remain crouched.
“Now, Nysa. We have a task for you.” Deimos jerked his chin at a sentinel, who waved another guard forward, hauling behind him a spritely female.
She squinted at the violet-haired beauty. A nymph. My people. How dare he employ her powers against her own race? Anger boiled in her blood.
The female’s solemn expression held no hint of emotion. No righteous fury, no fear. She was numb.
Nysa swallowed hard. Because of me.
Deimos shoved a dagger in front of her face. “Go ahead.”
She lowered her head in defeat. Perhaps this female was beyond saving.
Mayhap I am too.
A trickle of awareness pricked across her skin. Someone was consuming her waters.
No, not someone.
Oreius.
Her heart fluttered and her blood raced through her veins. What was he doing? Drinking her waters would heal him, true, but it would also provide her with a method to track him. Those waters weren’t blocked by Deimos’s dark enchantments. She’d gifted them freely from her well, to Agrius and Eione.
To save Oreius.
Now, he was the one saving her.
Her mind raced for a solution. Closing her eyes, she sensed a path to him.
A way home.
So long as she remained chained here, she couldn’t escape.
She opened her eyes. The glinting blade dangled in front of her.
Unless…
Holding the air in her lungs, she grabbed the hilt. Though she’d love to slash it across Deimos’s throat, a nymph wasn’t capable of such violence. Besides, too many guards occupied this room.
She couldn’t harm them.
But she could harm herself.
It wouldn’t be violence if it meant her freedom.
Nysa released her breath on a whoosh, gripped the blade in her fist, and slashed it across her wrist.
“Bloody wench, what are you doing?” Deimos roared, but it was too late.
Warm liquid spurted from the wound, onto the floor beside her. As the room spun around her, she cast a triumphant smirk at Deimos, then tilted her face toward the stoic nymph. “I’ll come back for you.”
Her waters pooled around her body and she melted against the cool floors, vanishing.
***
Oreius paced the chamber beside the well. What if he’d chosen wrong? What if he ought to have poured the drop into the well?
What if Nysa was lost to him forever?
He groaned and sank to his knees, whipping his head back and forth. A rush of water trickled in his ears, resonating louder off the stone walls.
Odd. He lifted his head and peeked into the well. From nowhere, liquid bubbled inside the column, filling the well.
His hearts leapt, squeezing his throat. Nysa. He stared into the waters, counting each of his breaths and the beatings of his hearts, waiting for her to appear.
She didn’t.
Damn. Of course. He smacked his forehead and scooped the waters into his cupped hands. Steeling his resolve, he poured the liquid onto the earthen floor.
And waited.
The dry packed soil began to absorb the puddle, and a curse formed on his lips, but then the liquid shimmered.
A feminine figure transformed from the puddle.
“Nysa!” He collapsed beside her and crushed her in his arms.
She squirmed and wheezed, pushing at him.
“Forgive me.” He relaxed his grip and peered into her shining sapphire eyes. My Sapphira.
“Of course, I do. My centaur doesn’t know his own strength.” A mischievous smile played on her lips.
Sweeping forward, he claimed her mouth, then her cheeks, her nose, the top of her head. He couldn’t stop kissing her, and her deliciously nude form wasn’t helping. “I feared I’d lost you.”
“You didn’t, and you never will.” She framed his face with her slender hands. “Oreius, I am yours, and we are bonded.”
“I love you,” he blurted. “I did not say it before, fool that I was. You are far more than my mate, Nysa. You are the beating of both my hearts. The sweet air filling all of my lungs and the perfect pairing of my soul.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I will never be parted from you again.”
She smiled against his mouth. “Do you promise?”
He nipped at those succulent petal-soft lips. “I vow it. For as long as you’ll have me, nymph, you’ll not be rid of me.”
“Then we shall be together.” She sighed in contentment. “Forever.”
One month later
Oreius thrust one final time into Nysa’s sweet tightness, grunting and pouring himself into her. His mate, his love, his Sapphira.
She bit her fist, muffling her screams as her fourth—or was it fifth—release seized her, deliciously clenching her muscles around him and threatening to harden his shaft again.
Unfortunately, their people needed them, and so did the twins. Despite how much he desired to, they cou
ldn’t spend eternity in bed.
“Uhh,” he grumbled. “Our duties await.”
“No, my love, our lives await.” She twisted around and curled her hand against his cheek. Her sparkling eyes and vivacious perspective never failed to draw him from the foulest of moods.
“Our lives.” He mirrored her smile, nipping at her fingertips until she clucked at him and scooted off the edge of the bed. Cocking his head, he admired the view of her luscious backside swaying enticingly while she dressed. “What plans have you for today? More nymphs to relocate?” They’d already accommodated most of them within centaur lands, although some had chosen to reside in Halcyon, and others, even farther away.
“No, not today. I thought I would visit my well. Take the twins with me.” She fastened her gown at the shoulder and arched one brow at him. “If you’re free, why don’t you join us?”
“Aye.” His nostrils flared and he scratched his jaw. Something was off, but he couldn’t determine what. Nysa and the twins got along splendidly. It was not unusual for her to spend a great deal of time with them. He shoved aside his suspicions and gathered his clothes, tugging them on. Then he strolled with Nysa down into the courtyard.
“Pappas!” Phrixus bounced on his hooves until Oreius scruffed his son’s curly locks.
“Nysa!” Pholis rushed to her and skidded to a halt a second before crashing into her arms. “Oh, forgive me.”
She chimed a bright laugh. “It’s all right, darling.” After bending to him, she kissed his cheek and clasped his hand, swinging it back and forth while they strolled toward her well.
As they neared the stairs he’d built to descend into the cavern, the two lads sprinted forward, whispering excitedly to each other.
What in Hades? He shifted to frown at Nysa, but her lips curved mischievously and her shrug was anything but innocent.
Oreius stepped down last, scanning the chamber for the cause of their impishness. Nothing seemed out of place, except… What was that pile of rocks doing there, beside Nysa’s well?
His perusal landed on his family and he opened his mouth to question them.
Phrixus scrubbed his hands together. “We didn’t know for sure if we should build a well—”
Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4) Page 7