Warrior Avenged

by Addison Fox

  She knew she should say something. Should stop him or divert him or try again to make her point. But “should” suddenly had no meaning in the face of his sensual ministrations.

  She wanted him. And that was enough.

  As if he sensed her surrender, Kane shifted again, taking a nipple between his lips. Her body responded immediately to his touch, the long, sucking drags of his mouth pulling an answering response from deep within her. Wetness pooled between her thighs and her legs shifted restlessly underneath him.

  “Ahhh.” He stared up at her, a broad smile on his face. Reaching for her hand, Kane linked his fingers with hers. “Now you’re with me.”

  “Yes,” she whispered on an exhale of breath.

  And then there was nothing else to say and everything to feel.

  The lazy, languid moments evaporated as something more urgent—more forceful—took their place. His mouth returned to her nipple as his fingers reached for her other breast, plucking at the tip. Her back arched in pure, feminine pleasure while he laved his attention over her.

  The hot, wet darts of his tongue spurred sensation after sensation, her body coming to life under his mouth and hands.

  Lifting himself up on his forearms, Kane smiled down on her. “It suddenly dawns on me, we’re both wearing far too many clothes. And while I definitely like the open-robe look”—his eyes roved over her body where it lay half in and half out of the pink terry cloth—“I need to feel you. Skin to skin.”

  A broad smile spread across her face. “Absolutely.”

  It took moments for her to drop her arms from the sleeves of her robe and for Kane to do the same from his open tuxedo shirt. As he shifted to the edge of the bed to stand on the floor, she watched with hungry eyes as he doffed his slacks. His briefs quickly followed to the floor and her entire body tightened at the sight of him.

  Magnificent.

  There was simply no other word for him.

  The long, lean lines of his body captivated her as nothing in her life ever had. A light dusting of hair grazed his chest, tapering down to a thin line that ran into the male core of him.

  His heavy cock stood proudly and she warmed at the sight of his arousal—and desire—for her.

  That’s for me, she thought with delight.

  With disbelief.

  All for me.

  Extending her hand, she reached for him. Again, his fingers linked with hers—so simple, so easy—and she tugged him toward the bed.

  Kane’s body met hers as the urgency flared again, rising up between them. Their breathing grew heavy as their mouths met and meshed, tongues tangling in the urgent, desperate need to mate.

  Heat rose off their bodies as he climbed back on the bed and nestled himself between her legs. His mouth settled over hers as he suckled her tongue into his mouth for another deep, drugging kiss.

  Ilsa felt her body respond from deep inside her womb, and her legs shifted restlessly against his hips and the outside edge of his thighs.

  She was here. Tonight. With Kane.

  Just as she’d dreamed for six long months.

  Finally—finally—they were together again.

  Ilsa ran her hands over the broad width of his shoulders as deep, feminine appreciation for the hard muscles beneath her questing touch filled her with awe. Kane shifted beneath her, his fingers plying over her skin and leading a sensual path for his mouth to follow.

  Another long, deep drag on her nipple, then the hot heat of his mouth as he placed more fiery kisses over her stomach muscles, stopping along the way to nip at her belly button.

  And then there was no thought. No analysis of what was happening to her. Only sensation.

  Only heat.

  His mouth covered her throbbing center, his tongue dragging over her clitoris in long, sweeping arches.

  She moaned, long and low, as Kane drove her to the brink of madness and back. He knew just how to please her, driving her body to the absolute edge of sensation, her muscles aching for sweet release, before pulling back. Holding her in his grasp, desperate for relief, teetering on the edge of orgasm’s sweet oblivion.

  Over and over, he pleasured her. Over and over he pushed her even closer to that edge, then pulled her back.

  “Kane, I need you.”

  He worked his way back up her body, his mouth beginning a reverse path.

  Impatient for him, Ilsa pulled on his arms. “Now!”

  A broad smile met her insistent demands. “As you wish.”

  He centered himself over her, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Reaching down between their bodies, Ilsa ran her fingers over the long, hard length of him, satisfied when he closed his eyes on a low moan of his own.

  Wetness covered the round tip of his cock, and she ran her fingers through it, using the bead of moisture to paint the crown. Her efforts were rewarded with another moan, before Kane reached between them and stilled her hand.

  “Ilsa.”

  She laughed, the sound a glorious wellspring of life filling her chest and falling from her lips. “Don’t like the tables turned, eh?”

  Pressing his lips to her neck, he positioned himself at the entrance of her body. “I need you.”

  Reaching down once more, she guided his body into her wet, slick channel. He filled her, stretching her in the most delightful, wonderful way as he buried himself to the hilt.

  “I need you, too,” she whispered before giving herself up to the moment.

  Kane took control of the rhythm, pulling nearly all the way out of her body, then plunging back again. She met him thrust for thrust, rising up to meet him, the sounds of their joined bodies sweet music between them.

  The glorious pressure built once again, her body throbbing with need, her muscles aching, desperate for release. Moments spun out, grew more frenzied, the rhythm faster and more intense.

  More. Want. Need.

  Just more.

  And then, like the most incredible magic, Ilsa’s world exploded, her body on fire with its release. Kane emitted a loud shout and followed her, shuddering with his own orgasm.

  As the moment spun out, their bodies in lockstep with each other, their hands entwined in a tight grip, Ilsa felt the emptiness inside of her fill to bursting with the sweet light of life and love.

  Kane absorbed the pure joy of being held in her arms, his body still quivering with its release. Lifting himself slowly from her, he pulled her into his embrace.

  He hadn’t felt this good in weeks—good sex went a long way toward fighting the poison and its effects.

  Although the poison typically resisted the usual remedies that got a warrior back to full strength—sleep and food—it couldn’t deter him or keep him from enjoying the third remedy.

  Orgasm.

  It might only be a temporary solution, but he’d take all the ammunition in the internal fight he could get.

  “Tell me about the poison.”

  “Funny you should mention it,” Kane whispered in her ear where she lay, pillowed against his chest. “I was just thinking about that and how I feel better than I have in weeks.”

  “It debilitates you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it really horrible?”

  Kane pressed a kiss to her head. “Come on. Surely you don’t want to talk about this.”

  Shifting, Ilsa lifted her head to look him in the eye. As always, the deep blue of her eyes distracted him, their endless depths a fascination. “I do want to talk about this. Maybe if we do, I’ll see an angle someone else has missed.”

  “I’ve lived with it a long time, Ilsa. And I told you about all the tests we tried to get rid of it. I’ve come to accept it was an oversight in Themis’s creation. Now that I am this way, I have to live with it.”

  Those blue orbs filled with anger. “Why? Why should you have to live with it? If something can be created, surely it can be reversed.”

  “Perhaps. But sometimes something changes and that’s all. It just . . . changes.” He stopped, at a loss for w
ords.

  “What if that isn’t good enough?”

  “What if it has to be?”

  “That’s awfully accepting of you, Kane.”

  “I’m feeling pretty good at the moment. I’m not sure it’s acceptance so much as it’s the pleasant afterglow of mind-blowing sex.”

  He got a smile out of her at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Unfortunately, Kane didn’t know how else to explain it.

  The acceptance.

  He’d struggled for so long—had hoped for a cure for so long—that one day he’d simply woken up and realized he had to live with it. Make a life with the hand he’d been dealt—a hand he’d earned fair and square.

  He knew the risks he took each and every day.

  The calling he’d accepted from Themis didn’t promise a life free from pain.

  And the poison. Well, it had taught a valuable lesson about the consequences of letting his guard down.

  Some things just were.

  As the moments spun out in quiet contentment, his mind ran through the events of the last few days. Of all he’d learned.

  Of all they’d discovered about each other.

  “How did you come to be Nemesis if you’re a nymph? As Nemesis, you have the full powers of a goddess.”

  Her shoulders stiffened slightly. The movement was so small—so fleeting—he probably wouldn’t have even noticed if she weren’t wrapped in his arms. “I accepted the role at Hades’s request.”

  “You weren’t born to it?”

  “No.” She traced a circle on the upper part of his stomach. The light circles were oddly soothing, even as some part of him also registered the erotic feel of such a simple touch.

  When it came from Ilsa, even the simple was complex.

  Everything seemed deeper somehow.

  Refocusing, he concentrated on his questions. Kane knew his reaction to her. Thinking too hard about her touch would put them right back to sex. Later, he promised himself. They’d have all the time they needed later.

  “Why did you accept it? Hades’s offer?”

  She was quiet for several long moments, the pattern she traced the only indication she was even awake. Finally, on a soft exhale of breath, she said, “Because I had no choice.”

  “There’s always a choice. Always.”

  “Perhaps. But personally, I think desperation colors choice. When you feel there’s no way out, you will take anything that’s offered to you. Anything.”

  Desperation?

  Kane’s stomach muscles tightened. What had happened to her? Or worse, what had been done to her? “Did you feel you had no choice?”

  “Do you recall the history of the Titans?”

  A history lesson?

  “Of course. It’s the root of who we are. It’s what shaped Themis and, in turn, what shaped her Warriors.”

  “Then you know Zeus was hidden as a baby.”

  “Of course.” Kane glanced down at her, placing a finger underneath her chin to pull her gaze level with his. “Ilsa. What does this have to do with you and your role as Nemesis?”

  “I was the nymph who hid Zeus from Cronus.”

  “What? But that’s not . . . What?” Kane struggled to a sitting position.

  She raised Zeus?

  The great god and leader of them all?

  Raised by Ilsa?

  It just wasn’t possible.

  “Ilsa. You were the guardian who protected Zeus? You are a legend. The entire Pantheon reveres the role you played in keeping him safe. In seeing him to adulthood.”

  A harsh snort escaped her and further surprise filled him when she leaped from the bed, reaching for her robe on the ground. “Legend? I hardly think so.”

  With long strides, she paced the room, wrapping her robe tightly closed, nearly ripping the tie as she moved.

  “But you are. You’re the missing heroine. The one who created a future for all of us. Everyone knows you existed, but no one knows who you are. That you’re still alive is a miracle.”

  “I was betrayed! Left to rot in that fucking cave on Mount Ida by Zeus, ungrateful bastard that he truly is.”

  What?

  What was she possibly talking about?

  “Ilsa. I don’t understand. You are the lost nymph. You are to be celebrated. Venerated by all who look upon you. If the Pantheon only knew you’ve been here all along. Alive. All this time.”

  Kane wasn’t sure why, but his words had the exact opposite effect than he’d hoped. Apparently his attempts to convince her were doing anything but.

  “Venerated? What a joke.”

  Ilsa stalked over to the closet, ripping apart the ties she’d just tied and tossing the robe to the ground. He watched as she shimmied her long, lithe body into another skirt and sweater set. His body tightened as his gaze roamed over her, but at the moment, he knew sex wasn’t what she needed.

  She needed to vent.

  At the same time, getting to the bottom of whatever was wrong with her was the priority. Leaping out of bed, Kane stalked to her, unconcerned with his nakedness and semi-aroused state.

  “What has you so upset?”

  “Venerated? Revered? I’m anything but. I’m here because Zeus hated me. Turned on me. Cursed me, Kane.”

  “What do you mean, he cursed you?”

  Ilsa dropped onto a couch in a sitting area on the far side of the room. He followed, taking the seat next to her. “Rhea gave me Zeus and hid us away in the cave on Mount Ida. She promised me I’d have my reward. This veneration you’re talking about—I lived with the promise of that for all those long, lonely years.”

  When she stopped, he pressed her on. “And?”

  “And once Zeus was grown, he left and headed off to battle his father, promising he’d return. Promising he’d bring me back to Mount Olympus when he was done.”

  Kane waited as she paused, her eyes filled with memories of years long past.

  “How long did it take him to return?”

  “Seventy days passed, with nary a sign of him. And then, on the seventy-first day, Zeus reappeared. Only he was no longer the boy I raised. In just over two months’ time, he became someone else. Someone I no longer recognized.” She sighed as a lone tear ran down her cheek. “And I was no longer someone he recognized. All he saw was the woman he believed betrayed him.”

  “But you raised him and kept him safe.”

  “Ah, there it is. The great irony of my life, Kane. On that day, the god I’d devoted my life to—the god I’d given up my life to—betrayed me with the worst punishment imaginable. A fate truly worse than death.”

  “But why?”

  “He believed I’d kept him from his destiny. Kept him hidden away in my own selfish desires to keep him safe.”

  The anger that had filled Kane along the banks of the Acheron returned on swift wings. Raw, pulsing rage filled him as he imagined her, a young nymph, exposed to nothing for years on end but the endless responsibility of raising the young god.

  She’d been used.

  And discarded.

  “What did he prescribe?”

  “I was bound to the cave on Mount Ida for all eternity. If I attempted to leave the cave, I would lose my corporeal form, roaming the earth as a spirit.”

  Her tears flowed freely now, spilling over in great, gulping waves.

  “He betrayed me, then punished me for some perceived crime he manufactured in his head.”

  “But you’re here.” Kane ran a hand down her arm, the motion darkening her eyes with desire. He gained a small measure of satisfaction to see she wasn’t so far lost in her dismal memories that she couldn’t still respond to his touch.

  That she could still feel.

  “I’m here because of Hades. He was newly released from his father’s evil and had heard what his brother did to me. He arrived with a bargain.”

  Clarity rushed through him at her words.

  Of course. It explained her role for him and it explained how she could be both nymph and goddess.


  She was created a goddess by the power of an Olympian; she wasn’t born one.

  “And it was that choice you referred to earlier.”

  Ilsa laid a hand over his where it rested on her thigh. Movements deliberate, she lifted her gaze to his and kept their eye contact solid.

  Unwavering.

  “Do you see now why I scoff at the idea of choice? Choice exists when either option is viable. When either option offered is valid. It isn’t choice when one of the options is a life of misery. Not even a life, really, but a half life. A trapped life.”

  The truth of her words struck him in a way nothing else had. He’d entered into his agreement with Themis willingly, the life she offered an enhancement, but not an escape.

  Never that.

  But for Ilsa, what Hades offered was escape.

  She stood, her long legs carrying her swiftly across the room toward the door. “Where are you going?”

  “I need to talk to Hades. Need to tell him we’re taking our leave of this place. It’s time I got you home.”

  “I can try to port right now. I’m strong enough and I can leave when I’m ready.”

  “I promised Quinn I’d bring you home. I won’t break that promise. Won’t give him one more reason to hate me.”

  Even though it galled him, he could admit he still needed help to port. His body felt better than it had for weeks, but still wasn’t anywhere near full strength.

  “I’ll be back shortly.”

  She was nearly to the door when a thought had him stopping her for one more question.

  “Ilsa, where did Zeus get those ideas? About you and your loyalty? Why would he turn on you as he did?”

  Venom tinged her words. “He got them from one person. The woman he devoted his life to.”

  “Hera? But that’s not possible. They met years after his defeat of his father.”

  “Not Hera, Kane. Themis. His first wife. Themis changed his mind and it is she who turned Zeus against me.”

  Themis watched Ilsa and Kane through her viewing mirror. The Mirror of Truth stood in the center of her small living room. Her quarters were sparse, her comforts on Mount Olympus easy to accommodate.

  She needed her mirror to ensure balance. Beyond that and her bed to sleep in, her life was about movement.