It broke my heart, because the more I knew, the more I felt their pain. I started rubbing my chest, my stomach lurching, perspiration coating my skin. I felt ill.
“You must not let it get to you,” Hip said softly. “Even for Aether, it would be too much.”
“I can’t switch off like you have. I can’t pretend the loss doesn’t exist by hiding it, by running away. I don’t have that luxury.”
“Perhaps. But if you are not careful, it will consume you.” He hesitated, but I had the feeling he had more to say. “Do you not wonder why Aether does not stay?”
And there you have it; the shaman’s ramblings coming back to haunt me.
Aether comes when the need is great. But remaining here was never fate.
Or my favourite of his most recent ramblings, Eternal Aether rest here, your journey’s end on earth is near.
Yeah. That one packed a punch.
“Of course,” I said, my voice cracking. “But I have to admit; I’ve been more concerned about where she goes afterwards.”
“To understand where Aether goes, one must first understand why she must leave.”
“OK,” I said, not liking the increasing similarity between Hip’s words and the ramblings of the Aeras shaman. “Why does she leave?”
“That, Aether, only you can answer.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head adamantly. “You’re my guide. So, guide me.”
“I will, where I am able. But, Aether, it is you Aetheros has chosen. Not I.”
“That’s not good enough,” I almost whined. “I have no idea what I’m supposed to do. It’s not as if Aetheros talks to me or anything.”
“Do you talk to him?” Hip asked.
I paused. I hadn’t thought of that. Sure, I’d prayed to him when things had gotten particularly hairy. But actually, have a one-sided conversation with the god as though he might just be listening? No, I hadn’t done that.
It was bad enough that I was surrounded by crazy kings and queens; I didn’t need to join them.
But Aetheros had once talked to me, or more precisely, boomed at me inside my head. The thought of having a conversation with the absent god was a little frightening because of that experience. But Hip might be on to something.
Would my talking to Aetheros bring him back?
Wasn’t that what Theo and Hip had originally thought might be the reason for the imbalance in the Elements today? Aetheros’ absence. Could bringing him back balance it all again?
I sighed. The Nero were our main concern now. Reaching them and somehow establishing a dialogue. I pushed up from the ground, offered Hip a small smile, and made my way over to Theo and his advisors.
Within feet of him, it became easier to breathe.
“Cassandra,” he murmured when I got close enough for him to reach out a hand. “Have you eaten?”
I had, but not nearly enough; I seemed to be off my food a little. Which was understandable, given what we were about to attempt. I just nodded my head and slipped into his embrace, inhaling deeply when my nose pressed into his chest.
“Always such a Gi,” he whispered into my hair, his hand stroking softly down my back.
“Always such a Pyrkagia,” I whispered back, luxuriating in his touch. He chuckled, the deep rumble reaching me through my ear as it lay against his chest. I could have stood like that forever.
“We need to plan our approach,” Nico said quietly as if he didn’t want to disturb our reunion, but needs must.
I grimaced. I wasn’t sure if I had the energy for this.
“We could delay it another day,” Theo offered. However, the Prince in him made the offer sound reluctant.
“There’s also the Alchemists,” I said, admitting to myself, at least, that this was bigger than my exhaustion. “They’ll be aware, by now, that the Nero have lost me. It’s likely they’ll wish to act, too.”
“Miss Eden is right,” Aktor offered. “They’re an unknown commodity, and right now we have too many enemies to face all at once. Gaining the Nero’s trust, at least, could minimise this.”
“But how do we gain their trust?” Theo asked.
No one had an answer.
Theo looked down at me, ran a soft stroke of his thumb across my cheeks. His eyes softened, gold glowing brighter and brighter within.
“Perhaps we should try the Gi first, Oraia,” he suggested. “At least their involvement with the Alchemists only went as far as the doctor.”
Noah. The Alchemist doctor who had tended me and helped me, ultimately, to escape. He’d had access to Gi and Pyrkagia. He’d also disobeyed direct orders from the Alchemists to protect me. She is ours to protect. Noah, at least, had thought so. Whoever he’d been speaking to in that fire, in the middle of the Amazon, had not.
But I still wasn’t sure if we could trust him.
Perhaps, though, Theo was correct. The Gi might be easier to sway. But there was a counter argument to that.
“For now, the Gi won’t be influenced so easily by the Alchemists,” I said. “Noah’s contact had said it would take years to get another agent into Gi. We have time. But the Nero are vulnerable right now. Already within the grasp of the Alchemists, and now even more desperate because of me. How easy would it be for the Alchemists to take advantage of that? If we give them too much longer to act, it could be too late. And we need every branch united.”
“Are you sure?” Theo queried carefully.
I wasn’t sure. But Aetheros was gone and the Ekmetalleftis had broken apart, and somewhere in amongst all of that pain and heartache was the answer. I hoped.
There was no way of telling if bringing the branches back together would make a difference, but my gut told me I had to try, and my heart wept with the notion that I might fail.
I had to do something. And starting with the most recently affected seemed the best route to take. What would happen if I abandoned the Nero? Would they rot like the Gi?
“We need them united,” I repeated, but even to my ears, it sounded doubtful.
“All right,” Theo said, backing me as only a Thisavros would; completely. “How do we make this less…risky?”
“I’m not sure we can, Theodoros,” Aktor admitted glumly.
“There’s two threats to consider,” Nico offered. “The Nero’s anger at having lost Casey and having had Atlantis destroyed. And the Alchemists’ involvement. Perhaps if we attack one threat, we can minimise the fallout.”
“The Alchemists,” Theo said, looking about the flat space on top of Table Mountain; clearly for my wayward brother. He proved as much when he said, “Where is Mark?”
“I’ll go look for him,” Nico suggested, and with Theo’s nod of agreement, he was off.
“Perhaps something to drink in the meantime,” the old butler said, reverting to form. In seconds, he’d disappeared as well.
Leaving me with a tense Thisavros.
“It’ll be all right,” I said, for want of something to say.
Theo’s chuckle this time was not humorous.
“I know you’re worried,” I went on, unable to stop attempting to soothe him. “But Aetheros believes in me.”
“I believe in you,” Theo said softly, turning me in his arms and tipping up my face with a gentle finger under my chin. “But this is…”
“Risky?” I offered when he hesitated.
“Very,” he said on a quiet growl.
“The Nero want me,” I said, perhaps not the right thing to say, because Theo’s growl became a low rumble. “They never intentionally hurt me when I was with them. In fact, they attempted to give me an honour, at least in their eyes they did.”
Theo frowned, looking puzzled.
“Aquarius,” I explained. “To the Nero, a Hataera is the most prized of possessions. I may not agree with their practices, but I cannot ignore what they mean to them. And now I know why they reintroduced the Pallakae and Hataera, I can empathise even more.”
“They do not deserve your empathy.”
&nbs
p; “I’m unable not to feel it.”
“They lied to you.”
“As has practically every other Athanatos to date.”
“I haven’t.”
“You’re different.”
“How different?” His voice had lowered.
“Completely.”
“Oraia.”
I cut him off. “They deserve their Thisavros, Theo.”
He closed his eyes as though in pain.
“I do not want them to have mine,” he said through gritted teeth.
“They won’t. But I could offer them theirs again.”
He shook his head. “I fear they will not listen.”
“They wanted something from me. Perhaps it was always that.”
“No. Not when they still value Hataera.” He had a point. “But I concede we need to know what it is they want from you. But the Alchemists’ involvement…I would be happier if we had an idea of what could possibly be their endgame.”
I bit my lip and stared back towards the fire. Sparks lifted up into a soft breeze that drifted on the air. Dancing and twirling up into the night sky. Just like they had danced and twirled around a huge bonfire once.
A huge bonfire I had visited in my dreams.
With Gramps.
“I’ve got an idea,” I announced.
“You have?”
“Don’t sound so surprised,” I teased.
Theo huffed. Then squeezed me tighter, running an affectionate hand through my hair.
“What is it, Oraia?” he whispered, laying a soft kiss against my temple.
I pulled back and smiled up at him, feeling content and safe and so very much not alone.
Which was a good thing. Because visiting with my once-thought-dead Alchemist grandfather in a dream involving Water would require positive thoughts lest my dream-mind make it a tsunami.
“Sleep,” I said at last to Theo.
“Sleep?” he queried, looking puzzled.
“I’ve got a date with Gramps.”
Chapter Fourteen
This Is What Not Being Alone Means
It wasn’t as easy as it had sounded. Although tired, exhausted even, I couldn’t fall asleep. Theo had erected one of Hip’s Aeras tents, so much more practical for high altitude than the tents we still had left over from Wellington. It was small, which made it cosy, and the sleeping bags the Aeras had provided were fluffy and warm and entirely too inviting. But still, I couldn’t sleep.
I snuggled down deeper, listening to the wind howl and the fire crackle and soft voices murmur from those of our group still awake. Night had descended once again, the stars so much brighter than they had ever appeared. Lack of man-made ambient light had transformed our once heavily populated planet into a glistening jewel at night.
I’d spent several long minutes staring up at the stars and wondering if Aetheros was staring back down. I hadn’t been strong enough to attempt to talk to him as Hip had suggested. But the stars twinkled and the moon glowed, and somehow it felt as if the Ekmetalleftis god had been present.
Or it had been wishful thinking.
Much like the wishful thinking I was having right now attempting to fall asleep.
“Come here,” Theo murmured, lifting his arm and pulling me closer. I rested my cheek on his chest as his fingers started to soothe down my back in a Pyrkagia show of connection.
“I can’t sleep,” I admitted.
“I had noticed,” Theo replied dryly. “What can I do to help?”
“Tell me everything will be OK,” I naively demanded.
Theo paused, which emphasised the naivety of my thought processes, but then he murmured, voice deep and velvet soothing, “No matter what, we will face it together.”
“I’m still not ready,” I complained.
“To face the Nero?”
I shook my head and ran a finger over the contours of Theo’s chest. Mesmerised again for the hundredth time at how beautifully created he was.
“I’m not ready for whatever it is I must sacrifice.”
Theo tensed but attempted to hide the reaction immediately. “We don’t know that the shaman is correct. At the very least, Hip may have misinterpreted his ramblings.”
“You don’t believe that,” I chastised gently.
Theo ran a hand down my bare arm, comfortingly. “No, I don’t. But trying to prepare for something you have no control over is not going to make an ounce of difference. We could speculate,” he continued, “any number of possibilities, but ultimately we would only be guessing. Time will tell, Oraia. And when we know, we’ll face it together.”
“What if the sacrifice is you?”
There, I’d said it. My worst fear. Having to give up my Thisavros. A choice between him and the balance of the Elements throughout the world.
“Once a Thisavros,” Theo whispered, ducking his head down and laying a soft kiss on my cheek. “Always a Thisavros.” His face moved closer to my mouth, the next kiss on the edge of my lips; tempting.
“I don’t know that we can trust Aetheros to adhere to that anymore,” I argued, albeit a little distractedly as Theo’s lips moved down the side of my neck.
“Sweet, sweet, Casey Eden,” Theo whispered hotly against my skin. “You can trust me.”
Theo didn’t tell me he loved me often. When he did, though, it was usually a proclamation worthy statement, accompanied by metaphorical trumpets, announcing his love for all eternity. What he did often do, though, was show me. Constantly. Through his touch. Through his glances. The gold rising in his eyes when our gazes met. Through his actions. His casually spoken words. His staunch support, unwavering.
Theo loved me, and he never failed to show me how much.
His lips dipped down beneath my t-shirt, laying a trail of sizzling sparks between my breasts. I arched my back, giving him more access, offering myself up for further kisses and hot touches. Pyrkagia flared. His and mine. Tangling even before we had. Drawn to each other, our Stoicheio danced in the confines of the tent, twisted and turned and stroked one another under the covers of the sleeping bags.
I moaned. Theo’s Fire swelled, surrounding us, shielding us. No doubt making our companions a little distracted with their own lustful thoughts.
I should have felt guilty at that, but the need to be with Theo, the need to stop thinking about anything else but my Thisavros, overrode all other thoughts.
My t-shirt vanished. Theo’s hot lips and tongue traced patterns across my quivering skin. My stomach dipped as my heart skipped alternate beats. A scorching palm wrapped around a breast as a blistering tongue swirled around the nipple of the other.
“Theo!” I all but screamed, my body thrumming, my Stoicheio rising, stars bursting behind my eyelids.
“Shhh,” he admonished playfully. “I’m busy.”
I let out a breath of air on a laugh, my body oscillating between too tightly strung and too loose to move a muscle. A tendril of Fire wrapped around the back of my neck, stroking. Another swept over my stomach, moulding itself to the flat surface, gripping my hip, stroking down my thigh, lifting my leg up and out.
My pants disappeared. Theo’s touch stoked the Fire within, his Pyrkagia calling to mine. His hot breath fanning the flames. He licked and sucked and flicked the tip of his tongue into my belly button. Laving the area with heated bliss. My body shuddered. My fingers wrapped up in the strands of his hair, as his head dipped further; a soft kiss to my hip bone; a light stroke of his tongue to the crease between thigh and pelvis; a minute tightening of his fingers behind my knee; hot breath coasting over feverish skin; a low growl setting the embers deep inside me burning.
He shifted his weight, repositioned himself, then looked up the length of my body mischievously.
“Don’t hold back,” he whispered, voice rough with desire and longing. “Let me feel all of you, Oraia. Let your Pyrkagia fly free.”
And then his face dipped, his tongue flicked out, and beautiful heat stroked up between my legs as he kissed me. There.
Somewhere, not so long ago, I would have thought wouldn’t thrill me. But now, as Theo groaned and my body ached with need, my legs falling farther apart to accommodate him, Pyrkagia swelled, stars threatened to explode, and euphoria rose. And I relished it.
“Theo,” I urged, rocking my hips, seeking more friction, more touch, as much as Theo sought to fuel his own Pyrkagia desire to touch me.
Part of me is Pyrkagia. Part of me is as much a slave to my sensual side as Theo. Steady Gi retreated. Flighty Aeras laughed but pulled away. Soothing Nero danced and swayed, but never moved closer. And Pyrkagia burned. Fuelled by my Thisavros. An inferno raging. Rising higher and higher. Ever expanding. Twisting and turning and making me feel all manner of desperate things.
“Now, Cassandra,” Theo demanded, his mouth immediately back on the most sensitive part of me as he slid a finger inside, parting my folds with his thumbs, exposing my flesh to his lips and tongue and teeth.
I rode him. There’s no other word to describe how wanton I was with his lips there and his fingers making me crave and his teeth scraping over sensitive flesh and sending me crazy.
The stars burst apart. The world disappeared. Nothing mattered but the wave of bliss I surfed and the touch of this extraordinary man. My body shuddered, muscles contracting and releasing, sending shooting sparks of sensations throughout my frame. I might have called out Theo’s name. I might have moaned or screamed or growled something. I’m not entirely sure. But the orgasm seemed so much bigger than usual, so much more…real than usual.
I felt everything.
Theo’s hot breath as it caught in his throat. The burnished yellow from his eyes as he looked up my body with utter male satisfaction. Our Pyrkagia as it twisted and tangled and burned out of control, threatening to consume us.
Theo made a low rumbling sound, perspiration glistening on his brow in the glow of gold from our eyes, he moved up onto his arm, looked down at me with complete devotion, and then sealed his lips to mine.
The Tantalising Taste Of Water (Elemental Awakening, Book 4) Page 13