Water's Mark - Cancer

by Rachael Slate

  Talos copied him, performing the morphos, and he extended a bracing arm toward Theron. “Easy, brother. We’ll figure this out.” He cleared his throat. “The first question would be, ‘Do you wish to mate her?’ ”

  “Aye.” The answer came so easily that he frowned at himself. Since meeting Cyane, he hadn’t been able to explain this hold she claimed on his heart. She simply consumed him. He grasped his brother’s arm, resolve flooding him. “If she will have me…” There bloomed his hesitation. Soon, she’d return to her own people. Unless, he could find another solution for them both.

  “Then I am happy for you.” Talos squeezed his arm. “Don’t worry about the elders. We’ll find a way to appease them.”

  Ye gods, the elders. Cyane had driven all thought of other females from his mind, but there was no hiding from her.

  Chapter 8

  For several weeks, the arrangement between them had flowed, smooth and refreshing as a morning tide. Theron couldn’t deny the grin that spread across his face every time he glimpsed Cyane. My mate.

  For each person she healed, a new bond formed. A connection, linking them together in ways his people had never been united. Strength coursed through them and the Karkinos began to thrive once more.

  He wouldn’t have deemed it possible, but Cyane had healed every one of the afflicted. Save himself, of course. He had yet another use for the pestilence inside him. Cyane had asked several times to cure him, but he’d dodged her requests, insisting she heal the others first.

  She wouldn’t like his plans, but he hoped she’d see that this was the only way to avenge his people. If he were honest, he’d name them her people, as well. One day, he’d gather the courage to ask her.

  To be his. To be theirs.

  To stay.

  He longed to share with her the truth about his bonding, but first, he must claim her heart. Not for obligation or pity would he wish her to love him. He wanted Cyane—all of her.

  Theron rubbed his left shoulder and rolled his arm, bearing the weight of the bonding. He’d ask her, but not until he saw the end of this. After he’d seized his revenge, restored his people, and secured their future. Then, and only then, would he be worthy of being her mate.

  Worthy of being presented before her brothers—who surely would fathom the motives behind his actions. They, too, had been stripped of their rightful positions.

  Theron strode from the tunnel, into the wide atrium, and chuckled as he spotted Cyane reading with some of the younglings. Once she finished, he might coax her into a secluded alcove for a quick tryst. His cock was already aching in anticipation.

  “Theron.” Talos rushed into the chamber, breathing heavily, his features pinched in an expression of dread. He glanced between Theron and Cyane, before settling upon Theron. Dashing forward, he seized Theron’s arm and hauled him aside.

  “What is it, brother? Another attack?” His gut twisted.

  “Nay. It’s more complicated.” Talos hedged a peek at Cyane, and the churning in Theron’s gut spurred harder.

  “It’s Elissa.” Talos lowered his voice and muttered, “She’s begun molting.”

  Time stopped and the room spun about him. “Nay. Tell them to find someone else.”

  “I’m not certain they’ll listen, brother,” Talos huffed. “You know how delicate a matter this is.”

  “What matter?” Cyane chirped beside him.

  Bloody hell. Before he could answer her, Elpida and the other elders marched into the chamber. “Theron. It’s time.”

  “Time for what?” Cyane frowned at him. The trust in her eyes would soon be crushed.

  He couldn’t speak, for what words were there? In truth, he’d hoped to have mated Cyane before this happened so he’d never have to face this decision.

  “Theron and Elissa to mate,” one of the sterner elders proclaimed.

  Cyane staggered backward, confusion, hurt, and betrayal crossing her downturned features.

  “Let me explain.” He snared her hand, but she wrenched it backward.

  “There’s nothing to explain,” she hissed, storming from the chamber.

  He lunged to dart after her, but Talos pressed a hand to his chest, holding him back. “You have to tell them first. They deserve to know, Theron.”

  He gritted his teeth, growling, “So does she.”

  “Know what?” Elpida intoned.

  “Theron’s bonded to Cyane,” Talos announced, and each of the elders’ expressions fell in succession.

  “That’s not possible,” one murmured.

  “You had a responsibility, to her, to us,” another snapped.

  “I didn’t choose this,” Theron snarled, “but it is my choice to accept the bonding. So then must you. Find another breeder.”

  He ought to stay and address the elders, to discuss other potential replacements, but his heart strained toward Cyane.

  Theron sprinted down the tunnels, searching for her. Had she gone to their chamber? He skidded to a halt at the doorway, but nay, the room was empty. Where could she be?

  He inhaled, his senses stretching.

  Sweet gods, no.

  She was gone.

  Cyane floated between her water form and her human shape, heated tears mingling with her liquid body. She never should have trusted Theron.

  Or hoped they might carve out a future together.

  They belonged to different worlds. She might save his people, might even join with them for a time, but she was an outsider. Not privy to their inner workings.

  She didn’t mean enough for him to share his plans to mate with another.

  Elissa. Cyane grimaced. A female she’d healed, and when she’d asked Theron about the woman’s importance, he’d lied to her.

  Declared she meant nothing to him.

  Clearly, such wasn’t the case.

  Had he been intimate with Elissa before he’d met Cyane? Or even, during their acquaintance?

  She rushed forward, faster, harder, forcing a path through the forest, not caring where precisely she headed.

  Away. Nothing else mattered.

  She’d offered Theron her trust, but he’d never given her his. Such a fool. She clenched a fist and shattered it into water. Her brothers had been right. The world they’d sheltered her from was cruel.

  The ire flushed from her, revealing devastation in its wake, and she crumpled onto the moss-covered ground, sobbing. She’d shared her body with Theron, true, but so much more.

  She’d entrusted him with her heart.

  She’d loved him.

  This betrayal stung deep. Sniffling, she wiped her tears and set her shoulders. She’d return to her brothers and never speak a word of this to them. Better to forget Theron.

  Erase him.

  As swiftly as the tide erases yesterday’s mark upon the shore.

  Cyane staggered to her feet and marched through the trees, following the stars. Would Rhoetus still be within Great Meteoron? Was he searching for her?

  She’d abandoned everything for this foolish notion of love.

  But love couldn’t exist without trust.

  So this had never been love.

  Merely its reflection.

  A glimpse of what might have been.

  “Cyane!” A bellow rang through the trees. Theron. She flinched, struggling with whether to disappear into a puddle.

  “I know you’re there,” he purred, nearing.

  Gathering her resolve, she spun around, deciding to face him. If he’d come to explain, she deserved his reasons.

  “What do you want? Don’t you have a Karkinos female to breed?” She planted her hands on her hips and scowled at him, his masculine form framed in the evening dusk.

  “Nay, I can’t mate with her. I do not want her.” He raised his hands and stepped toward her, pleading. “We were paired a long time ago. Female Karkinos can only be fertilized once in their lives—when they molt. There’s no telling when that will happen. In truth, it slipped my mind. Since I’ve met you, I could t
hink of no others but you.”

  She scoffed, but he set a hand on her shoulder. “You must believe me, Cyane, I desire no other maiden. Only you.”

  Earnest pleading bled from those stormy pools, but the seed of mistrust had been sown within her. “I don’t trust you.”

  Straightening, he regarded her with fierce determination. “Then I will prove it to you.” Theron rolled his shoulders, and his masculine form shifted, sparks flaming off his flesh as the two shapes became one.

  Crab and man.

  The crab’s luminous blue shell formed around him like armor. A new marking wound across his upper left claw, the etched band radiating like incandescent coals.

  A bonding mark.

  Cyane’s lips parted, a rush of air escaping her.

  Theron stared at her with intense wickedness in his gaze. “I want no other, nymph, because you are mine.”

  Beneath her scrutiny, the bonding mark branded into his shell seared across his arm, making him flinch. He begged her to trust him. To forgive him.

  To love him.

  “I should have shared this with you the moment I realized it, but I feared losing you. Verily, I didn’t trust myself.” He extended his claw toward her. “But I am yours, Cyane. You have nothing to fear, for no other maiden could claim my heart as you have. I love you.”

  She inhaled sharply, her eyes sparkling with hope and yearning. “I love you, too, Theron. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “It’s not a common practice for my people to mate outside of our race. As their leader, I had to be certain my heart was yours as well. And it is.”

  She bit her bottom lip at his outstretched claw. “This bonding isn’t complete yet, is it? There’s a ceremony?”

  “Aye.” Many of the unions Aphrodite had fashioned required a formal reciprocation on the part of the female. “You must choose me, as well, Soteira.”

  “Tonight?”

  He winked at her. “Nay, no hurry. Neither of us should rush into this decision. In fact, I can’t claim you until I’ve confronted my brother. Balius must pay for the lives he has harmed. The souls he’s taken must be avenged. I owe them that.” He lowered his claw.

  “Let me heal you first, and then I’ll come with you.”

  “You can cure me after I’ve set things right.” He dodged her repeated request to heal him. “I must go alone. Balius isn’t an honorable male and I won’t risk you.”

  “The risk is mine, and if I’m to choose to be your partner, you must include me in your world.” Determination flamed in her eyes, in her folded arms and straight spine. “I won’t be excluded.”

  He frowned, his mind spinning. How can I keep her and still do what I must? Would a nymph even be capable of condoning his actions?

  He was a leader and above his own choices. What was best for his people must shape his decisions. “Aye, you may come, but for your safety, you must conceal yourself.”

  “Agreed.” She inclined her head. “When do we depart?”

  “At first light.” He shrugged off his shell form, resting as a man before her. Extending his hand, he peered at her. “Will you return with me?”

  “Yes.” She slipped her hand into his, and his heart lightened.

  Though dark clouds festered ahead, tonight, he would seek shelter within his mate’s embrace. Praying her light might be enough to redeem him.

  The next morning, Cyane watched as Theron dressed, concealing daggers and weapons across his body. An ominous haze had come over him this morning. Last night, she’d given him her trust. One more time.

  Would she regret it?

  He nodded at her and strode from the chamber. Hands gripped at her sides, she followed him. A small band of Karkinos warriors surrounded them on the shore.

  “How far is it?” She squinted at the horizon across the ocean.

  “Not far.” Theron swept his hand toward several of the males, whose crab forms joined together to construct a sailing vessel. “They’ll transport you.”

  “Thank you,” she murmured as she climbed onto their shell raft. Theron performed the morphos into his crab form and dove beneath the surface, leading the way.

  They sailed for perhaps an hour or two. Suddenly, the raft slowed and Theron rose above the surface. “There.” He pointed toward a sandy beach. From this distance, she glimpsed nothing out of the ordinary, but as they neared, she detected fluid walls, so clear they acted as mirrors, reflecting the outside and shielding the inside.

  Theron rose out of the water and leapt onto the shore, spinning to her. A grim acceptance in his eyes twisted her stomach. Oh, no.

  He’d allowed her to come this far, but no farther.

  The dark glimmer in his eyes told her—his intentions within were more than vengeance. He held up a hand to his warriors, but Cyane was quicker. She flashed into her water form and vanished into the ocean’s depths, sinking to the bottom where she wouldn’t have to breathe or face the awful truth of what Theron intended.

  He meant to kill his brother. Not that Balius didn’t deserve as much, but everything within her screamed she couldn’t permit such violence.

  This was wrong.

  The intensity in Theron’s expression had proclaimed he cared not for the consequences, not even if it cost him his life.

  His life.

  Dread flooded her, thrashing her about on the sand. The one person he’d never asked her to heal—had insisted she not cure—was him.

  Theron didn’t mean to slay Balius with sword or spear.

  He meant to infect him.

  No. Cyane raced to the surface, shooting into the sky. Theron stood before the watery gate as it slid open. She sailed through the air and crashed into him, her water splashing everywhere and smashing him upon the ground.

  But it was too late. The fluid gates closed behind them, sealing them in.

  Hastening, Cyane melted into his body, peering through the mists to confront the disease.

  A blackened mass formed before her, but unlike the other times, this one transformed into a human shape. A male, formed of dripping, inky tar.

  Theron.

  Oh, gods, no. She gulped as she faced her lover, consumed by her enemy. They’d become one.

  “What are you doing, Theron?” she yelled, scowling at him. “Let go of this terrible illness. It won’t do what you hope it will.”

  Slowly, the Theron shape lifted his head to regard her. “He’s beyond your words, nymph. He made a bargain with me, and I won’t be denied.”

  She reared as the ferocity of the creature’s hunger crashed through her. Loimos craved nothing but to consume.

  Devour.

  Lay everything to waste.

  “Well, you can’t have him, but if you insist, you’ll have to go through me. Again. I haven’t lost to you yet, you bastard, and I won’t lose now.” She gritted her teeth, swirling her powers about in the air, shaping them with her hands.

  “Filthy wench! Take your sickly sweetness away from me!” Loimos lunged forward, but Cyane was ready with a bolt of her powers. She sent it flying forth and the bolt caught the creature on his shoulder, slicing clean through. Loimos staggered backward, but then propelled toward her once more, charging.

  Quickly, she formed another bolt, and sent that one flying through his chest. The energy fused a hole through the creature, but the tar closed back on itself.

  She seized a step backward, her eyes widening as fear pounded into her. This one was different. Stronger.

  Stronger than me?

  Never. She drew her brows together and focused on forming a more potent bolt, but the creature transformed into a gigantic crab, lashing his claws toward her, and she had to drop her bolt to swipe a water shield in front of herself.

  The claw clanged against her shield, screeching, but didn’t penetrate it.

  “Theron, help me!” she shouted, hoping that from somewhere within this monster, he might hear her.

  Her bolt glinted on the mist-coated ground and she dove for it, smashing int
o the floor.

  The enormous crab scuttled to hover above her, stabbing his claws into the ground. She rolled to the right, and then to the left, dodging those massive pincers.

  Springing to her feet, she spun around and launched her bolt, but as she released it, a sharp pang stabbed into her abdomen. The crab’s pincher speared straight through her, shattering her form into countless droplets.

  Chapter 9

  Theron wrestled the crab into submission, flinging the pestilence from his body, but it was too late. He gazed at his claw, and at the shimmering droplets scattered across the floor, a thousand shining gems.

  His Cyane.

  Gone.

  Howling, he sank to his knees. The horror of his actions descended upon him with the weight of endless oceans. “What have I done?” He’d allowed the disease to fester within him, to draw its power off him, feeding, so that Loimos would be strong enough to kill his brother.

  Instead, it had killed his love.

  This was why he’d never permitted her near his disease. He’d feared Loimos had become too strong for her.

  He’d been right.

  Theron collapsed forward, grasping for her droplets. Could he coax them together? Why would she even listen?

  Devastation and hatred flooded him, and he glanced aside, only to gape. Somehow, Loimos had gained enough strength to take corporeal form. He posed now as the same inky crab that had defeated Cyane. “You,” he snarled, launching to his feet. “You will pay for this.”

  Loimos scoffed. “You’re pathetic. No one can defeat me. Thanks to you, the one nymph capable of challenging me is gone.”

  Theron hunched forward, tears stinging his eyes at the sight of the puddle on the floor. His hunger for revenge had consumed him, and she’d paid the price.

  She’d sacrificed so much to save his people. In the end, he hadn’t been able to save her. No one deserved such a fate, and certainly not one as selfless as Cyane.

  He withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket, and ever so gently, placed it upon the puddle, soaking up the droplets. Carefully, he folded the cloth and slipped it inside his breast pocket. Near the heart she had claimed.