by JoAnna Grace
“You must go. It’s time.” Andreas nearly pushed them through the portal, but not before he pulled Ryse into a tight hug.
“Wait,” Hayden cried. “We didn’t get to say goodbye to our father.”
“His soul rests with the gods, young Olympian Prince. Have peace for the dead and go tend to the livin’.”
“What of Salina and Nikki?” Hayden persisted.
“They will be delivered by the gods. You must hurry.” Andreas bid them farewell.
Ryse reluctantly stepped through the portal, leaving his old friend behind. The last thing he saw was Andreas smile and wipe a tear from his face.
He didn’t have time to feel the loss again as blinding light consumed his eyes and his mind. He tumbled from the portal and onto the grassy knoll, back in the Haven. Behind him came Charles, Hammon, and Hayden. The Thracians took to the woods after the others while Hayden and Charles bolted to the palace to check on the women.
Dear gods of Olympia, how had a demon entered the Haven?
***
***
LYSANDRA APPROACHED THE portal that would transport her from the Holy City of Delphi to the earthly realm, her fear boxed up deep inside. She could not show any hesitation. If Hermes could go to Earth and collect the Deities with no issues, she could take the one step forward into the portal.
Still, her body shook.
The portal showed her a regal woman with golden and silver hair walking among the Olympian population. This woman was a queen. And she was missing a Shadow Lady. As the queen left her populace to go to the temple to pray, Lysandra edged up to the portal.
A heavy, repressive robe cloaked her body, smothering her in fabric when she’d been hundreds of years without clothing. The soldier guarding the portal went to one knee, bowing until she touched his head and spoke blessings to him in Greek. He straightened and gave her a warm smile. Lysandra tried to return the gesture as she tugged and pulled on the weighty robe. She’d never left Delphi and her hesitancy must have been written on her face. That was not acceptable. She steeled her spine and squared her shoulders. Duty. Duty before all else.
The widowed queen, Lady Dynasty, knelt down and willed the single candle to flicker to life. Lysandra listened to her prayers.
My gods and goddesses, creators of this world and the next, holy mothers and father of our universe, I come humbly to beg for your guidance. The souls of my entire family rest in your care and I find myself more alone than ever. My Shadow Lady must guard Avery and, without her by my side, I feel as though yet another piece of me is missing. The people notice. What shall I do? Guide me, oh lords. Show me the will of the gods and give me the courage and strength to follow you. I am so afraid. Without my husband and my sons here, my daughter in a state of deathless-life, the troubles between my household and that of the Avondales, and all the Deities being gone all over the world, I fear for my people. I fear what might happen in my sons’ absence. Show me, lords, show me what I am to do to banish this fear and lead the people as you wish me to. I am your vessel. I sacrifice myself to your will. Help me, please.
Her last three words were whispered with such earnest desperation, it nearly brought tears to Lysandra’s eyes. She stepped through the portal, crossing over from the Heavens to the temple on Earth. Electricity sliced through her body for a split second, but she shook it off.
Lady Dynasty wiped her cheeks, the tears falling freely in this sanctuary. When she had gathered her strength, she stood and turned to leave. She stumbled when she encountered Lysandra.
“Who are you?” Dynasty asked.
“Lady Dynasty, faithful servant of the gods, you prayed to the gods for help and they have sent me.” Her voice was musical, smooth, and as hypnotic as she could make it. “Many fears you carry, Dynasty. I am here to relieve such burdens. My name is Lysandra. I am from the Holy City of Delphi.”
Dyna gasped and went back down to her knees, one hand clutching her chest. “You are an Oracle?”
“I am in line to join the Pythia, to be an Oracle of Apollo. But the gods have seen the need for me here. Your son’s mate is resting in this place, yet her spirit has entered the Heavens, correct?”
“I don’t believe you have been correctly informed. My son’s mate was murdered.” Dynasty did her best to lie, but she was not in the presence of a mere Olympian.
“You need not fill my ears with tales, wise one. I have seen the truth as given by the gods.”
Dynasty nodded. “No one is supposed to know. How—”
“Oracle.” Lysandra’s lips twitched slightly as she tapped her temple. How long had it been since she’d used humor? She’d thought herself incapable. But here, in this place, it was her first reaction to diffuse the tension of the queen. “I am here to watch over her and conceal her existence. Meanwhile, your Shadow Lady may be free to resume her duties and avoid suspicion.” Lysandra covered her head with her cape so that only her long braid could be seen. “Let’s go.”
Dyna hesitated. “You will have to convince the Elites of who you are.”
“Worry not.” Heaven knew Lysandra was doing enough fretting for the both of them, no matter how controlled she appeared on the outside.
She’d grown up on legends of these warriors. Thracians, as a rule, were huge in stature, quick to action, and swift to kill. The Elites were rumored to be the worst of the Thracians and yet the best the race had to offer. They killed first and asked questions later. Meeting these men face to face gave her a chill of fear up her spine.
I am a holy messenger of the gods, she kept telling herself. No one could deny her the task appointed to her. Lysandra turned and followed Dyna. The Oracle walked with sure footsteps around the temple and through the passages that led to the palace. When they reached the outer entrance to Dyna’s private chambers, they were met with Thracian soldiers. Heavens, they are massive. Their eyes studied the cloaked woman, and then the queen.
“Let us pass,” Dyna commanded. The two soldiers exchanged glances, then moved. Dyna ushered Lysandra into the outer hall. Then she was faced with a soldier who had been present in her visions. He was fairly tall with hair so short it was nearly nonexistent. His eyes looked her up, then down. The black robe she wore covered her entire body except her hands and bare feet, which caught his eyes.
“Yankee, dear, I need you to gather the Elites.” Dynasty kept her voice calm and even.
His eyes stayed on Lysandra, no doubt wondering what was under the hood. “What’s up, Your Majesty?”
“It is imperative I speak to all of you.”
“Who’s your friend?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Son, you would be wise to do as I ask. Now.” Dyna was getting upset. Sure, the soldier had his reasons for being protective. But—
Before Lysandra could react, Yankee pinned her up against the wall, a gun pointed at her exposed forehead. Her cape fell to the floor. By the gods, he is fast. Dynasty gasped and tried to step in between them. Lysandra stood calm and still as a statue—and completely nude. She didn’t so much as draw breath. Not that she could. Fear was a living, breathing dragon in her stomach.
“Stop this,” Dynasty cried out. Two more soldiers came running to the door. “Brenden, make him stop.”
“What the hell, Yankee? Holy Zeus, she’s naked.” A blond soldier with deep blue eyes and a kind face tried to intervene, but Yankee pressed the gun more firmly against her skin. “Why are you naked?” He looked from Lysandra to Dynasty to Yankee. His voice pitched high. “Why is she naked?”
“State your name, woman.”
“I am Lysandra, an Oracle from Delphi. You are Samuel, known as Yankee.”
“No shit, Captain Observant. Tell me something I don’t know. Like what the hell you’re doing here and why you have my queen so damn upset.” He paused and looked her over. “And why are you naked?” His eyes went to her chest. “Not that I’m complaining.”
“Yankee. This is entirely inappropriate,” Dynasty whispered so the exterior guar
ds wouldn’t hear the commotion.
Lysandra spoke evenly. One would never know she was in peril but for the slight shiver in her skin. “I was sent here by the gods to aid in your cause.”
“And what cause is that, exactly?”
“To hide the body of Lady Avery until her soul returns from the presence of Rhea.”
Three Thracian soldiers turned their piercing gazes to Dynasty, who held out her hands. “I didn’t tell her.”
Now Lysandra sighed and shook her head. Her nudity didn’t bother her as much as it seemed to bother the lady and two of the three soldiers. “Did I mention I was an Oracle? I could have sworn I did. You do comprehend the powers of an Oracle, do you not?”
The three men nodded at one another and Yankee slowly lowered the weapon.
Dynasty nearly collapsed with relief. “I need to sit.”
Lysandra would have followed, but a giant warrior bent to pick up her robe and aided her in dressing. Eyes the color of sand met hers.
Dearest mother-goddess, what masculine beauty. She was instantly held in his gaze, his prisoner…his prey.
It was quite a shock for Dante to exit the room and find Yankee holding a gun on a naked—fantastically naked—woman. Her creamy white skin and perfect curves stopped him in his tracks. Black hair hung in a braid as wide as his arm down her back. He imagined that once the mane was loose, it would be a thick curtain about her lovely petite body. That lovely piece of her artful perfection would be burned into his brain for all his days.
The Oracles of Delphi were sacred. Apollo’s temple housed the Pythia, the three lead Oracles. But many young women had surrendered their lives to the service of the gods by becoming priestesses in the temples. Their souls left the Earth to join their sisters in the Heavens.
In all his history classes, Dante had never heard of an Oracle coming back to Earth for any reason. However, these were uncertain times. Gods came to Earth, the Deities were summoned to the Heavens, and a soldier of Zeus stood in the knoll outside, guarding a portal to the Heavens. Why not an Oracle from Delphi?
Dante lifted the cloak and gently placed it on the shoulders of the Oracle as Lady Dynasty began to wilt. Yankee ushered Dyna to her room, but Dante stood planted in the hall, his eyes locked on those of the Oracle. The two stared at each other, caught by the intensity of the other. He was over a head taller than Lysandra, yet he felt like he was on his knees before her, unable to breathe without her permission.
His world shifted. Inexplicable tingles and electrical signals went off in his brain.
Mine.
It wasn’t enough to call her beautiful. The word did her no justice. Lysandra was…ravishing, brilliant, mesmerizing in every way.
Brenden cleared his throat, breaking their trance. Lysandra ducked into the room.
Her thick, black braid swung over her shoulder as she knelt to take Dynasty’s hand. Ruby red lips were in contrast with her pale skin. Her eyes were large, innocent, a shade of gray he couldn’t place. Unique eyes—like his.
Those eyes shot up as if he’d said her name. “Mighty warrior, will you please close the door until the other Elites arrive? We would not want anyone to see our Lady in such distress.”
Dante fought the urge to look around to see who this mighty warrior was, but he was the only one standing by the door. Snapping out of his confusion, he obeyed. He then moved to the other side of the queen so he could watch the Oracle. If love at first sight was real, this might be a shining example. His heart beat as loud as a timpani drum in his chest and he feared everyone in the room would hear it. He kept his aura locked tight. All he needed was for the other Elites to pick up on his infatuation with their new guest.
“Thank you, I’m fine.” Dynasty accepted a glass of water from Hanna.
Yankee knelt down by Dyna and touched her knee. “My lady, you are not fine. Don’t sit there and lie. A lot of shit has gone down in the last couple days and it’s cool if you need to rest.”
“Samuel.” Dyna rested her hands and cup in her lap and narrowed her eyes. “I’m not too tired to wash your mouth out with soap. Or even better, sic Hanna on you. Keep that in mind,” she threatened in a motherly fashion.
Yankee huffed out laughter and patted her knee before rising to his full height. He mumbled about it not working the first time and Dante suppressed a grin. Lady Dyna might be the only person on the planet other than Ryse who could control Yankee.
That was when he noticed the Oracle watching him with curious intent. Their eyes met, then her gaze skirted away. It was enough. He caught the flash of fire in her gaze. When Yankee brushed by her, she recoiled as if he carried the plague. Guess he had that unnerving effect on everyone. Satisfaction blossomed in Dante’s chest. He was her mighty warrior, not Yankee the Untouchable.
Moments later, the Elites remaining in the Haven were assembled. Cutter, Philippe, Yankee, and Brenden stood in a semicircle while an unflinching woman held her own against their questions.
“The gods sent me to look over the body of this woman.” She indicated to the other room where Avery’s body lay. “I foresee that she will be in this state for a while. The queen and her Shadow Lady cannot be separated too long; people are already asking questions. Hanna must be presented with her mistress and Dynasty must be accessible to the public. Therefore, I shall stay here and tend to the mate of the prince.”
“Why one of the Pythia?” Brenden asked. “Why not a soldier?”
“Guards she has. I am not one of the Pythia yet. It is my duty to serve the gods where necessary until then.”
Dante made a mental note of the way she clarified her status with a frown. Was something that weighed heavily on her? He had a deep desire to find out.
“How we know you not spy?” Cutter asked.
Lysandra’s gray eyes focused on him. She spoke in Chinese and Dante didn’t understand what she said. Judging by the way Cutter’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he regained control, it was probably best Dante didn’t get involved. When she was finished, Cutter put his palms together and bowed, speaking in his native tongue.
Lysandra returned the gesture, then addressed the group. “The gods also revealed that when Avery awakens, she will need my assistance. Her Shadow Lady is—”
“Careful,” Brenden growled.
“—indisposed,” Lysandra said, casting him a sidelong glance. “Avery will need me.”
Her eyes settled on Dante and he felt the heat of her gaze from across the room. “All of you will need me.”
Dante swallowed the lump in his throat. The type of need he felt at that moment had nothing to do with the gods and everything to do with the exquisite woman with ruby lips and gray eyes.
***
ASHTON JOGGED OVER to his intended target. Dante walked down the street that connected the training center and the palace. The bastard had avoided him for the last couple days, but there was only so far one could go in this Haven. Persistence was key.
“Hello.” He gave a cheerful smile. “Dante, right? My goodness, you’ve changed since I saw you last. What was it? Twenty years ago?”
The color of his eyes was eerily similar to Xavier’s. For a moment, it caught him off guard. This is what Xavier might have looked like in his first century. Odd, he’d never really thought of Xavier as the sexual type, but this Thracian boy was proof that the old man had shagged someone at some point.
“Prince Ashton,” Dante said, his tone tight and strained. He gave a formal bow.
“Relax; no need for all that.” Ashton shoved his hands in his khakis. “Let’s take a walk.”
Dante glanced to the training center. “I was actually on my way to—”
“Five minutes. Please? I really should explain Xavier’s behavior; apologize even.”
Dante’s eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath. Indecision was written on his face. His duties awaited him, but a well-trained soldier would not ignore a prince.
Ah, you want to hear this, though. Don’t you?
Dante nodded. “What can I do for you, prince?”
Ashton guided their steps away from the training center and the palace, into the side gardens. “I realize that you and I are connected and yet we barely know each other.”
“Yes, prince.” His automatic, bored response was an insult.
Ashton clapped the warrior on the back, noting how he flinched away from his hand. “Dante, call me Ashton. Please. I know what’s going on here.”
“Oh?” Dante’s face and emotionless tone were a trademark of his father. The apple didn’t fall far.
“Your father left your family to tend to mine. That couldn’t have been easy on a young man. It’s not easy living in my father’s shadow and he does his best to spend time with me when he can. Xavier, in contrast, is ever the soldier. Cold. Hard. Abrasive.” He leaned in and whispered the last word with a wink.
“Yes, prince.” Dante’s faint smile was enough.
“You and I have much in common. Both of us growing up at the feet of legends, striving to be like our fathers and missing the mark completely.”
Dante’s head whipped around and Ashton knew he had him.
He chuckled, kept a smile plastered on his face. “Don’t look so stunned. Even I have tried to walk in Charles’ steps and faltered. Why do you think I choose to blaze my own path? It’s hard to live up to men like that. We must be different, you and I, if we are ever to stand out and achieve our own greatness. Don’t you agree?”
“Yes, prince.”
Ashton stopped Dante with a hand and faced him. “I want you to know, I think it’s quite an accomplishment to be accepted into the Elites. They are legend in their own right. You must be proud. Deep down, I know your father is too. He’s just, well, he’s shit at showing how he feels.”
The two men shared a chuckle. The seed was planted.
“I know things are hectic right now, especially for an Elite. Any time you need a break, come find me. We can go riding or hunting. Looks as if I’ll be here a while. I look forward to getting to know you. Maybe we can rise above our fathers’ shadows together, eh? You’re already on your way.” Ashton held out his hand and, with only a second of hesitation, Dante clasped it.