“Our magick isn’t as strong as the prince’s,” the blonde to Talisa’s right said with a nervous expression.
“Doesn’t matter. There are four of you. He picked each of you for a reason. Because he believed in you and knew what you were capable of. My father always said you’ll never know where your destiny leads until you take that first step. This is your first step, not just for yourselves, but for your people.”
The nymphs glanced from one to another then slowly nodded, communicating in some silent nymph way Talisa didn’t have time to wonder about. Holding up their hands, they pressed their palms together, forming a circle.
Talisa stayed where she was, watching from beyond the circle as their eyes slid closed and they began reciting the ancient words that would camouflage the border and form a protective barrier around the kingdom.
Okay, Fates, if you ever wanted to interfere in my life, this would be the perfect time.
The amulet grew warm against Talisa’s skin. Refusing to think about her own destiny, Talisa closed her eyes and reached for the gem at the end of the long chain while the nymphs’ voices echoed around her.
Her fingers wrapped around the warm stone. She pictured the barrier growing like an invisible wall all around the border of the kingdom. Imagined the dark forest beyond fading into nothing. Could almost hear the sizzle and pop of energy in the stone arch that only magickal words could break. And she focused on protection. On safety. On nothing evil crossing into this land.
The nymphs’ voices quieted. The amulet chilled in Talisa’s fist. Gasps echoed on the air, followed by one nymph muttering, “It worked.” And another saying, “Holy Hades, it did.”
Talisa’s eyes shot open. She looked past the nymphs toward the stone arch. From this side, she could see the trees and forest beyond in the moonlight, but the energy was no longer flickering. A steady hum met her ears, and she felt rather than saw the invisible barrier that protected the kingdom.
“Holy skata,” Talisa breathed. “It did work.”
The nymph closest to Talisa jumped up and down and reached for her arm. “We did it! Look what we did!”
A slow smile broke across Talisa’s face, but when the nymph bumped into her, she winced at the quick shot of pain up her arm. She’d been so focused on fixing the mess she’d made, she’d forgotten she was still slightly injured.
“You did it. Good job, all of you.” She forced a smile for their benefit. “Now get back up to the castle in case anyone else needs your help.”
All four giggled like schoolgirls but rushed back toward the path that led behind the waterfall as if they couldn’t wait to share the news of what they’d done.
Talisa was just about to follow when the energy in the arch sizzled and popped. Seconds later, Rhen and his men walked under the stones.
The males moved past Talisa, nodding their heads slightly. Several muttered, “Princess,” but none slowed to speak with her.
Rhen drew to a stop several feet away and swiped an arm over his sweaty brow. “The ground has been cleared. No one who ventures close will see what happened out there.”
Talisa exhaled another breath of relief. “Thank you.”
Rhen glanced back toward the stone arch. “Looks like you fixed the border issue.”
In the moonlight, Talisa took her first good look at the sileni. He was a few inches taller than Talisa, close to six-three, she guessed, muscular in all the right places and as handsome as the nymphs were beautiful—flawless skin, striking good looks, dark hair and eyes, with just a hint of scruff on his square jaw that probably drove the nymphs wild. And though a few days ago he might have turned her head, today he didn’t even elicit more than a casual glance from Talisa.
“Not me.” She headed for the path, not ready to decipher that reaction just yet. “The nymphs did. I just directed.”
He fell into step beside her. “I think you did more than direct. The prince hasn’t been teaching them all that long. Even with their abilities joined, they would have needed more than a little direction to get that border secured.”
Talisa wasn’t sure that was true, but as they moved behind the waterfall, she thought of the amulet hot in her palm as she’d been picturing the border reforming. And the way it had grown hot when she’d thought about that lock on the dungeon door opening as well.
Zagreus had said the amulet was powerful. That it enhanced strength. Had she somehow willed both of those things to happen with her mind?
“I also think you had a lot more to do with what happened outside the border than you’re letting on,” Rhen said at her side.
His words pulled her attention from her spinning thoughts and drew her feet to a stop at the entrance to the tunnel. She turned behind the roaring waterfall and looked up at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’m pretty sure you do. The prince doesn’t generally use a sword when battling his enemies. He doesn’t need to.”
Oh… right.
“The majority of those satyrs were taken down with a blade,” Rhen went on. “And something also tells me you might recognize this.”
When Rhen lifted his hand, Talisa spotted the black handle and short blade resting in his palm.
“This is yours, isn’t it? We found it stuck between a satyr’s eyes. Only a skilled warrior could make that kill. Especially against a charging beast.”
The way he was watching her, closely, intensely, put her on instant alert. “If you think I’m a threat—“
“I know you’re a threat. But not to me. And not to my people. What you just did here, helping to secure our border, proves that. I’m more concerned with what kind of threat you are to the prince.”
Her gaze skipped over Rhen’s flawless features, and that tightness she’d felt before, when she’d been trying to keep Zagreus conscious, reformed in her chest. “He’s immortal. What kind of threat could I possibly be to him?”
“Oh, I think you know what kind of threat I mean.”
Talisa swallowed hard.
“You were leaving, weren’t you?” he asked quietly.
Her pulse kicked up. She looked down at his leather breastplate, stained with satyr blood and other things she didn’t want to imagine, unsure how to answer.
“I was there the night you found him in the club.”
Her gaze darted back to his. “The night I found him?”
“Weren’t you there looking for someone?”
She had been. She’d been at that club numerous times looking for… someone. And she’d always left feeling as if she hadn’t found him. Even when she’d found lots of other males. It was the real reason she kept going back.
“He’s been searching for you for a long time,” Rhen said. “Since well before he came to Ehrendia. I think—no, I know part of him thought he wouldn’t find you again. That too much time had passed. Then, out of nowhere, you walked up to him in that club. That was a sign. As was the fact, this time, you aren’t a nymph. All day today, while we were out tracking those satyrs, he was anxious to get back to you. To make sure you were still there. That you were safe. The only threat to his existence, princess, is losing you. If that were to happen, in his mind, there’d be no reason to go on. Not anymore.”
None of what he was saying made sense. Yet at the same time, Talisa’s heart pounded hard.
Her mind was a blur, her skin damp from perspiration, her stomach in a knot. She had a million questions. Didn’t know where to start. Could only grasp one thought, even if it was trivial at the moment. “Wh—why do you call me princess?”
“Because you are the prince’s mate.”
“His”—her pulse beat even faster—“what?”
An amused expression crossed Rhen’s face. “Nysa told me you have the marking on your hip. The same one he has, inverted. The alpha and the omega. The beginning and the end. He said your mind wouldn’t remember your souls being bound but your body would. It’s why you found him, isn’t it?”
The cave closed in around Tal
isa. Her legs grew weak, and she reached out to steady herself against the rocks. As she struggled to breathe, the marking on her hip warmed.
“Princess?” Rhen reached for her arm to steady her. “Are you all right?”
She wasn’t sure. Wasn’t sure she’d ever been all right. All she could focus on was his blunt declaration. On the fact she and Zagreus were…
Bound.
That one word echoed in her head. The marking on her hip grew warmer. Her memories skipped back over all the times her father had told her the reason her Alpha marking was different was because she was the only female ever to be born with the Argonaut markings. That made her special. Unique. She’d always known that excuse was bullshit, but this…
Her memories shifted to seeing Zagreus in that club. To the pull she’d felt toward him from across the room. To sliding her hand over his hard chest. To dancing with him in that flickering light. Then, finally, to pressing her mouth to his and kissing him.
Her lips tingled. The marking grew even hotter.
Was it possible? Her fingers slowly drifted to her lips, and she touched the sensitive flesh, remembering that kiss, remembering how complete she’d felt, how everything—for one shining moment—had seemed… right.
She hadn’t pulled away from his lips that night because she’d seen through his glamour or realized who he was. She’d pulled away because she’d known as soon as she’d tasted him that he was hers.
Her soul mate. The one person in the cosmos she was destined to crave but who was the worst possible match for her. Her curse, all because she’d been born with those miserable Argonaut markings.
Only…
The marking on her hip grew white-hot, to the point it was all she could feel—not the tightness in her chest, not the rush of blood in her veins, not even the pounding in her head. All she could focus on was that burn in her hip, spreading heat and life through her whole body, in a way it never had before. Telling her this—he—was something more than a curse. More even than the evil god she’d always believed him to be.
Her gaze lifted to Rhen’s worried face. “What did you mean by give up? He’s immortal. He can’t die.”
“That’s a myth. Any god can die. Either by choosing to give up power and moving to the afterlife, or by losing the will to live.”
Oh gods… That couldn’t be as bad as it sounded.
She swallowed hard. “And if a god… loses the will to live… what happens to his soul?”
“Exactly what you think.” Rhen’s eyes darkened. “It fades into nothing. Like his body.”
The pain suddenly exploding in her chest was like nothing she’d ever felt. Like a thousand daggers stabbing straight through her heart, stealing her breath, making her gasp.
She didn’t understand it. Didn’t understand why she was feeling it for Zagreus or why any of this was happening. She just knew she had to get to him.
She gripped Rhen’s arm, a new sense of panic taking hold. “Where is he? I have to see him.”
Rhen nodded and gently tugged her away from the rock wall. “This way. Hurry.”
She barely remembered the trek back through the tunnel. Wasn’t sure she’d have been able to find the way without Rhen guiding her. Luckily, someone had lit torches so they weren’t lost in total darkness, but the flames were nothing more than a blur of light as she passed.
The grand hall was dark and quiet once more when they returned. Only a few people lingered. Rhen led Talisa up to the third floor, down a long dim corridor lit by sconces, slowing when they reached two sentries standing guard outside a tall, arched wooden door that was open a mere foot.
Rhen quietly pushed the door open and spoke to whoever was inside, then looked back at Talisa and motioned for her to follow.
Talisa’s first impression was of a giant bedchamber with high ceilings, heavy wood beams, and dark woods. A fire burned in the large stone fireplace to her left, flanked by shelves stuffed with books on each side. She spotted a desk against one wall, a deep red velvet couch, and a few matching high-backed chairs in front of the hearth.
Old oil lamps sat on the bedside tables, and heavy red curtains framed the cathedral windows on each side of the massive medieval-style, carved-wood canopy bed. But her focus immediately went to Zagreus, lying still as death on that enormous mattress. And all that fear she still didn’t completely understand overwhelmed her all over again.
Talisa stepped past Rhen to the foot of the bed to get a better look. Zagreus’s eyes were closed, his head tipped to the side, his arms unmoving against the red comforter. He was naked but for a white sheet draped over his lower body, but most of his skin was covered by once-white strips of cloth that looked damp and were now tinged pink by blood.
She swallowed hard as she gripped the wood post at the corner of the bed and watched Nysa ring moisture from a strip of cloth over a pan on the side table, unravel the cotton, then lay it over a bloody wound on his shoulder. The scent of lavender filled the room, along with some other incense or herbs Talisa couldn’t name.
This wasn’t right. His wounds should already be closed. He was a god. Yes, he could feel pain, but he healed fast—faster than those from her race. She could already feel most of her wounds from that fight knitting back together.
“Why isn’t it working?” Talisa asked in the silence as Nysa laid the last piece of cloth on his arm. “It should already be working.”
Nysa turned, dried her hands on a towel, and looked toward Rhen at Talisa’s back. “Stay with him?”
Talisa didn’t hear Rhen’s answer, didn’t see Nysa move, but she felt Nysa’s hands on her arm, slowly pulling her away from the bed.
“Come this way,” Nysa said. “You’re a mess.”
Talisa’s heart raced. Her head spun. She felt herself moving, but it didn’t seem real. Nothing seemed real. Nothing made sense. And as Nysa drew her into another room then pushed her to sit on some kind of padded bench, she focused on the one thing that was real and looked at the nymph. “Wh-what’s happening?”
Nysa reached for the tattered sleeve at Talisa’s shoulder and tugged, ripping it open. “I’m getting you patched up.” She pressed her fingers around Talisa’s biceps. “Does that hurt?”
Talisa shook her head. She couldn’t feel any pain in her arm. In the center of her chest, though? Yeah. Her chest was on fire, which only confused her more.
Nysa went to work cleaning Talisa’s arm. Another nymph rushed in with a pan of steaming water and a stack of cloth. The scent of lavender filled the room. The two spoke quietly but Talisa barely noticed. She was too busy trying to slow her racing pulse. Too frantic to figure out what the hell was going on.
“There.” Something tightened around Talisa’s arm. “That should fix that one. I need you to stand so I can see where else you were injured.”
She pulled Talisa to her feet, helped her turn, and made quick work of the zipper at her spine. As the ruined gown fell to her feet, Talisa realized she was in some kind of giant bathroom.
Everything was marble. A massive sunken tub took up the center space. She spotted a large, walk-in shower with no door, a long vanity and tall mirror, a chandelier sparkling light over everything, but that was as much as she could take in.
She turned when Nysa tugged gently on her arm, then clutched the towel Nysa handed her to her chest. “I need you to stop what you’re doing and talk to me.”
Nysa lifted her gaze from checking Talisa’s body for more wounds. But one look at the nymph’s somber eyes was all Talisa needed to know it was bad.
“His wounds aren’t healing,” Nysa said softly. “They should be mostly closed by now, but they’re not.”
Talisa’s conversation with Rhen near the waterfall rushed through her mind. Slowly, she sank to the padded bench, still clutching the towel against her chest.
“He’s stable,” Nysa went on. “For now. The lavender isn’t helping to heal much, but it has a soothing property that should ease some of his pain, though at this point I d
on’t think he’s feeling much. The best we can do is make him comfortable.”
Oh gods…
“Wh-what about magick? The nymphs who helped me with the border could—”
“Magick isn’t going to help him.” When Talisa looked up, Nysa sighed. “He’s a god. If he wanted to heal himself, he could.”
Oh… gods… He really was dying.
“I-I don’t understand.” Talisa looked back down at the floor. It was some kind of swirled marble but the tiles all blurred in front of her. “Why now? If I’m”—she swallowed hard, still unable to say the words—“who he thinks I am, and he’s been looking for me as long as Rhen said, then why is he giving up now?”
“I don’t know.” Nysa crouched in front of her and laid a gentle hand on Talisa’s knee. One that was solid and warm. The only warmth Talisa could feel at the moment. “Maybe it was too long. Five hundred years is the longest you’ve ever been apart. Maybe the darkness is too strong in him now. Maybe he sensed you were too different. Or maybe, when you ran, he realized that this was his chance to break the cycle. To let you finally live and for him to be the one to die.”
Finally live…
She didn’t want him dying for her. She didn’t want anyone dying for her. She was a warrior, not a hapless victim. And they’d won that fight. They’d beaten those satyrs… together. There was no reason for him to give up and die now.
Her thoughts spun all over again—with things Nysa had told her, with things Rhen had mentioned. And mixed with all of it was Ana’s voice, announcing that Talisa had returned from the dead.
She looked through the open door toward the bed, where she could just see Zagreus lying still against the mattress.
Reincarnation was possible. Orpheus, one of the Argonauts, had been reincarnated. The Fates had given him a second chance at life because Zeus’s Sirens had interfered with his destiny. Talisa had always felt older than her age. Her parents and aunts and uncles had always teased her about being an “old soul.” She knew it was possible her soul had lived in the past. But… with Zagreus? That was the part she couldn’t comprehend.
Wicked: Eternal Guardians Page 15