My Spartan Hellion

by Nadia Aidan

  Inside, she recoiled at the vehemence of his malicious words, but her fury was all she allowed him to see as she exploded. “Get out of my home! Get out now!”

  “Thanos will not be able to save you this time, Lamia,” he said coldly, his voice dripping with malice before he spun on his heels and stalked out.

  She trembled with rage long after he’d left, certain that Atallus’ presence in Sparta was for nothing but nefarious purposes, and she shivered suddenly when a chill crept along her spine at the thought, for Atallus was a deranged and demented soul who thrived on cruelty.

  She knew, whatever business he had in Sparta, that with his ego he had not been able to resist paying her a visit just to have the sheer pleasure of upsetting her. Atallus could not accept that he had ‘lost’ her to Thanos, never realising that one did not gain someone’s affection using cruelty and force, but rather with kindness and respect. Atallus’ twisted mind could not comprehend that Thanos did not have her simply because he was strong enough to control her—as Attalus himself had tried to do. Instead she was with Thanos because he respected her, cherished her, and treated her as his equal.

  She needed to speak with Thanos immediately. Something just did not seem right about Atallus’ presence in Sparta so soon after the debacle in Athens.

  As she readied herself to leave, Lamia could not silence the voice deep inside that urged her to follow Atallus, to go after him alone and not involve Thanos. That voice inside her came from a place within that screamed with rage, with vengeance—softly cajoling her to snuff out his life the way he’d snuffed out Darius’ with no regard for anyone else. The urge to do just that was so strong it pounded through her until she was trembling.

  She’d promised Thanos.

  Thanos.

  His handsome, smiling face flickered before her, his eyes trusting as they shimmered with love. Instantly, she quieted the vengeful thoughts, for she understood now what was truly important—the life she’d built with Thanos and their future together. Almost dying had made her realise that. And clamouring for Atallus’ death only threatened that future, yet it did not change the past. Darius was gone—Atallus’ death would never change that.

  Her obsession with vengeance—it was destructive, unhealthy, and, if she let it, it would destroy her and the love she now shared with Thanos.

  She was determined to never let that happen.

  She’d promised Thanos she would give him the chance to bring Atallus to justice through the proper channels, and she would give him that chance, which was why she needed to speak with him at once.

  With deft movements she crept through their home, careful not to alert Armine. If she didn’t leave before Basha returned then she would never be able to leave, and she just didn’t have the time to wait for a messenger.

  So, before either Basha or Armine could catch her and stop her, Lamia quickly slipped from their home, careful not to make a sound.

  * * * *

  Thanos dragged in a long breath as he spurred Zeus towards home, trapping the crisp, balmy air deep within his lungs. They were finally done with the interrogations. Of the remaining Romans, those who were the strongest and brightest would become helots, while others, mostly those who were just young boys, would be sent to Thebes and Athens as slaves. Those who did not become helots or slaves would be executed. He did not relish the thought of executing hundreds of men, but such was the way of war. He knew that, if the roles were reversed and he’d been captured in Rome, he would be suffering the same fate.

  He gripped the reins tighter, brushing aside all thoughts of war. He was going home. The council had dropped their ridiculous charges against him and Cleomenes, leaving him with a few sun risings of peace from the grumblings of politicians.

  Now all he wanted to do was return to his lovely wife and spend what few moments he had reacquainting himself with her pleasurable body and collecting his just reward.

  * * * *

  The streets of Sparta were eerily quiet this eve as Lamia hurried towards the centre of the city, where the barracks and prison were located. She’d forgone a horse, knowing it would quickly draw attention to her, as she did not wish to alert Armine or anyone else who might stop her. She also wasn’t allowed to ride until the skin at her side had completely healed itself back together—another promise to Thanos and the physician that she now kept.

  With nothing but silence all around her, her sandals clicked noisily against the stoned streets as she hastily walked along the path, darting her eyes about. Clenching the dagger at her side tighter, she picked up her pace. She could see the torches blazing outside the barracks. She was almost there.

  The sound of footsteps trailing behind her made her stop and she whirled around, searching the darkness, while at the same time a sense of foreboding trembled through her.

  She withdrew her dagger but was already too late.

  The crushing blow knocked the air out of her, sending her sprawling backwards. With a moan, she shook her head as she struggled to see against the heavy shadows. Her side ached and bile clogged her throat, but still she tried to gain her footing, only to falter and stumble, her knees scraping the ground.

  When another blow struck the back of her head, her face slamming against the stones, she closed her eyes, hovering just beyond the veil of awareness as pain thundered in her head, until finally she lost her battle and succumbed to unconsciousness, slipping away into oblivion.

  * * * *

  “What do you mean she is gone?” Thanos bellowed. The last thing he’d expected was to return home to find his wife missing.

  Basha’s eyes were gentle. “Thanos, please try to calm yourself.”

  Clenching his fist, he bit out, “Who would want to kidnap her?”

  Callisto’s blonde tresses bounced against her cheek as she shook her head. “We do not know, Thanos. All we know is that a servant recovered her dagger, a-and there was blood.” Her eyes lowered to the ground. “Thanos, I am so sorry.”

  Spinning away from them, he slammed his fist into the table, sending dishes and pottery shattering to the floor when the table splintered in two.

  Startled, the women took a step back. Ulysseus nodded to his wife, who quickly grabbed Callisto’s hand and together they hurried from the room.

  Ulysseus inched towards Thanos but did not touch him. “I will assemble a band of men. Together we shall find your wife and bring her safely home,” he assured.

  Thanos nodded stiffly but said nothing. His anger was too great to form words at the moment, but more than that his fear crippled him. He knew not who would take her, who would harm her, and that was truly what terrified him. His wife now faced an unknown enemy, and he was helpless and ignorant, emotions Thanos despised.

  He could only hope his brother was right—that they would find Lamia and bring her safely home.

  * * * *

  Lamia groaned as she struggled to turn over, a sharp hiss rising out of her when needles of pain shot from her head straight down her spine. She closed her eyes to keep from losing consciousness again. When her head finally stopped spinning, she opened her eyes, blinking until her vision eventually adjusted to the darkness of the room.

  The space was unfamiliar and her nostrils flared at the foul stench of heavy musk and urine. The rancid odours swamped her, and she held her breath, struggling to tamp down the rising bile in her throat.

  When she could finally take a breath without choking on her own vomit, she tried to stand, but stopped, or rather was forced to, when she almost tipped over. Her hands were tied behind her back, her ankles bound together. But that wasn’t why she now shook with fury.

  It took her only a moment to realise that she was also naked. Anger surged through her and she struggled against her bonds, trying to squirm free. There was only one who would dare to kidnap her, and then leave her bound and naked, and she wasn’t about to wait around to find out what he planned to do with her.

  * * * *

  Thanos paced back and forth in the o
uter courtyard of his home waiting impatiently for Ulysseus to return with more men. He wished he would hurry up. The longer they waited, the longer it would take for him to follow the trail of Lamia’s kidnapper—

  “Father?”

  He turned at the sound of the soft voice, quickly masking his fury as he gave his adopted daughter a weak smile. Armine adored Lamia. He did not want his own fears for Lamia to frighten her.

  “Yes, Armine?”

  She walked slowly towards him, her eyes fearful.

  He stooped down to her height and gathered her into his arms, his heart lurching at her forlorn expression. “All is well, Armine. We are going to find her,” he said gently.

  “I-it is all my fault,” she whispered.

  He frowned when tears poured from her eyes. “None of this is your fault—”

  “Y-yes it is,” she choked out. “I—I tried to stop her from meeting with the governor but she was determined. I—I heard him threaten her and then she disappeared before I could stop her.”

  The governor.

  Thanos stiffened with rage even as dread coiled in the pit of his stomach. There was only one who would come for Lamia, who would even dare to set foot inside Thanos’ home when he was a wanted man, and then threaten his wife.

  Atallus.

  “You said she met with a governor? Do you remember his name?”

  She nodded quickly. “Yes, I shall never forget it. He was so scary and mean-looking. His eyes were—”

  “His name, Armine?” he prompted gently, trying to keep her from succumbing to one of her frequent ramblings.

  “Atallus. His name was Governor Atallus.”

  * * * *

  Whack!

  Blood flew from her bruised lip as he struck her again.

  “You will learn to treat me with respect, you stupid whore!” Atallus screamed, spittle dripping from his mouth.

  Lamia’s eyes burned with hatred. “You do not scare me, Atallus. When Thanos finds you, he will rip you into tiny pieces—that is, if I do not do it first.”

  His hand whipped across her face again, sending her head spinning. She ignored the bite of pain, focusing instead on the ropes that bound her wrists. They were almost loose.

  His maniacal laugh echoed off the walls, forcing her gaze to his demented face, but she did not stop twisting and turning her wrists.

  “By the time Thanos finds you, you will be dead and I will be long gone.” His high-pitched laugher took on a frenzied pitch. “He will be devastated when he finds your broken and used body, not knowing whom to exact his revenge upon.”

  She stared at him. He was clearly mad.

  “Why are you doing this?” she asked when he started towards her, hoping to purchase herself more time to loosen the ropes.

  Her question gave him pause and, thankfully, he stopped.

  “I have been here for several moons, watching you both, biding my time until I could punish Thanos for taking you away from me,” he said with a smirk as if he thought himself clever that he’d stalked them without their knowledge.

  She wanted to rail at him that Thanos had not taken her, that it was Attalus who had sold her, but she knew it was futile to try to reason with him. He was insane. And she realised then that he was also obsessed with her. Atallus was one used to getting everything he desired, so, to his addled mind, he’d lost while she and Thanos had won. That she was now Thanos’ wife, and obviously happy with him, had snapped what little sanity Atallus had possessed.

  “And with Thanos out of the way,” he continued, “you would have no choice but to turn to me.”

  She was incredulous. He truly believed she would turn to him if somehow Thanos were gone. She shuddered at the gleam in his eyes, realising then that he was more deranged than she’d first thought.

  “I had plans for you, Lamia, because you were the key. After I got my fill of you, I was all set to pawn you off for a hefty sum. You’d be surprised how few advantages come with the position of governor, but I have always fared well, given my long-time friendship with Rome. So, when they approached me, I was happy to aid them. And it was the perfect plan, too. I relished the thought of seeing Thanos’ face when he discovered it was I who had brought about the destruction of Sparta. Thanos would lose everything, including you, with the fall of the city. It was perfect.” His eyes clouded with fury. “But Thanos, always thinking himself so clever, had to ruin everything.

  “He was supposed to remain in Athens until the Romans had defeated Sparta and Thebes, but he didn’t, and now the Romans refuse to continue filling my coffers. They think I’ve betrayed them, so I cannot go to Rome, and now I cannot even go back to Athens. Euripydes and Thanos know the truth and have issued a warrant for my arrest across all of Greece.” His eyes turned colder as he stalked towards her, froth foaming on his lips.

  “The Romans would have given me a hefty payment for you as a prisoner, the queen of Sparta,” he mocked. “But the fools lost, so there is no one to pay me. I have nothing and it is all your husband’s fault. Thanos has taken everything from me, so now I shall take everything from him.”

  Lamia did not know what he was talking about. His words of treason were probably just the ramblings of a demented mind…but if they weren’t, and he’d actually betrayed the Greek city-states to Rome, then he had every reason to be desperate, because there was no place he could go without being brought to justice.

  Atallus stooping down beside her reminded Lamia that no matter what she thought he may have done, she knew what he planned to do now. So, when his filthy hand reached out to grasp her bound ankles, she thrashed wildly against him until he trapped her legs down with the weight of his body. Dagger in hand, he sawed effortlessly through the ropes, but as soon as the ropes fell from her ankles, he slipped from his position of bearing down on her legs, and she kicked at him violently, striking him in his chest, across his face, anywhere she could.

  Triumph surged through her when squeals of pain erupted from him as he fought against her flailing legs. But her joy was short-lived when he finally managed to grasp her ankles again, wrenching her legs apart. Without the use of her hands, she could not keep him from seizing her, and her stomach churned as he stared between her thighs.

  She struggled violently when he leant forward to rub his body against hers, the foul stench of him stinging her eyes.

  She worked frantically at the ropes, her shoulders burning from the effort as pain ripped through her wounded side, yet Lamia did not stop. Not even when vomit rose to the back of her throat, when she felt him fumbling with the layers of his chlamys and he released his slimy erection to rub it against her skin, did she stop.

  But when his eyes glazed over with lust and he fisted his tiny cock to point it at her entrance, she halted her struggles just long enough to butt him in the head with her own. The blow stung, but she ignored the pain. He shrieked loudly as he clutched at his forehead and she used that moment of distraction to buck him off her as the ropes finally loosened around her wrists.

  Shucking her bindings aside, she scrambled to her feet, only to sway when a wave of dizziness struck her.

  Grasping her head with one hand, she placed the other against the wall, using it to steady her. She took a few hesitant steps towards the door. She needed to get out of there. She was still too weak to fight Atallus in her condition. If she could just get out of there, she could get to Thanos and then he could come back and arrest Atallus—

  Pain shot up her spine as her head violently snapped back and she screamed. Twisting around, she wrenched her hair from Atallus’ gnarled fingers, wincing when clumps from her mane remained in his tight fist. She swung around again, racing towards the door. She was almost there, but then he grasped her ankle, sending her sprawling to the ground on her hands and knees.

  She delivered several mule kicks trying to shake him off, but he wouldn’t budge. Wrestling over onto her back she ignored the pain in her leg as her body went one way while her foot remained pointed in the other directi
on, her ankle still imprisoned in his grasp. Rearing back, she lifted her free leg and rammed her foot into his face as hard as she could. The sharp snap of shattering bones reverberated in the small room as his head flew back at an unnatural angle, but she didn’t waste time to see if he was alive or dead as she shook free of his grasp and limped to her feet.

  She reached for the door at the same time that it crashed inward, sending her jumping back with a tiny yelp. Her heart skipped a beat at the first sight of him—an enraged Thanos charging through the doorway with Ulysseus and Adonis on his heels.

  Once they’d ascertained she was no longer in danger, the latter two men quickly ducked back outside, their faces red with embarrassment at her naked state.

  Her attention returned to Thanos. He called her name as he rushed towards her. Dragging her into his arms, he held her close. Every breath he took was ragged, each one of them shuddering through her. When he finally did release her, his hands shook as he cupped her cheeks, his gaze roaming across her face.

  “D-did he hurt you?” he choked out.

  She sensed the depth of his question, knowing what he was truly asking when his eyes raked her badly bruised face and naked body.

  “No.” She shook her head. “I am fine,” she said shakily, circling him with her arms, holding him tight. “How did you find me?” she asked when he finally drew away from her to wrap her tattered peplos around her body.

  “Armine was the key. She was the one who provided the clue that it was Atallus who’d kidnapped you. But you also left hints. You dropped your dagger where he grabbed you. And we followed the trail of blood from that spot until it stopped. We then traced a circle of the area. I wanted to check every shop and house nearby, but Ulysseus was adamant that Atallus was staying at a boarding home. This was the only boarding home close by, and the owner gave us the room number of a man who fit Atallus’ description. Thankfully, Ulysseus was right and I listened to him.”