Fire's Mark (Lords of Krete Book 4)

by Rachael Slate

  How delectable.

  She approached him, tilted her head, and grazed the tip of one claw along those scars, down the squared line of his jaw. “Take me, Demoleon.”

  His eyes narrowed a fraction.

  Rising onto her toes, she pressed her lips to his, gently feathering them.

  He stood still as the rock wall behind her, until she eased away, and then he growled, snared the back of her head, and lashed his mouth across hers. The centaur wrapped his massive arms about her, trailing his large hands everywhere, the heat of his arousal flaming across her. She retaliated, biting his bottom lip and digging her claws into the flesh of his shoulders. He snarled and raked his fingers through her locks, his mouth dipping to smooth across her collarbone and down her chest.

  She latched on, hopping up onto him and locking her legs around his waist. Grabbing his hair, she directed him to her breast. His hot, wet mouth enclosed her flesh and she mewled in pleasure. Sucking, nipping, grazing his teeth, he held her captive to the force of his lust. She scraped her claws down his back, long streaks slicing into his flesh, but he kissed his way to her other breast and repeated his sweet torment there.

  Demoleon spun them around and crashed her against the rock wall, lowering her to his eye level. He seized her left hand and pinned it against the stone while his mouth sought hers again. She moaned and writhed, but he’d left her right hand free, so she delved it between them and beneath the waist of his breeches, down to skim her fingers across that solid flesh she craved so badly. Gods, he was large. A whimper escaped her, her sex tightening anxiously at his erection. She couldn’t even close him in her fist.

  “Don’t worry, love,” he shoved his hips forward, harder against her hand. “I promise to be gentle with you.”

  She scoffed at the boastful tone of his voice. “Wrong promise to make a harpy, centaur.”

  Chapter 5

  Demoleon nearly lost control at the taunting in Enyo’s murmur. “Good,” he purred, “because I didn’t wish to be gentle with you.”

  Her breath hitched and, as he was about to question whether he’d gone too far, her piercing claws slammed into his backside, eliciting a deep gnarl from him.

  She tore at his breeches, shoving them down, and he scowled at her nude form. Nothing to tear off her, except… Those cursed leather strips.

  Aye. He wanted her completely bared before him. Demoleon gripped one in his left hand and wrenched.

  Enyo screamed.

  Not her war cry, but an agonizing howl that reverberated through the cavern.

  A terrifying agony spread from his hand, all the way along his arm, making him yelp. The cloth in his hand hadn’t budged, so he whipped his gaze to hers. She fell limp in his arms, her eyes rolling into her head, and collapsed.

  Oh, gods. What have I done?

  He braced her immobile form in his arms and lowered her to the ground. Gently, he tapped her cheek. “Enyo, wake.” Nothing.

  Panic struck him, seizing his muscles. By Zeus, what had happened to her? He snatched a vase of water and splashed some across her face, but she didn’t stir. Gods help me. He required aid from a healer.

  Cyane. The centaur caves within the mountain range of Mount Ida were but a short distance away. He and Cyane had arranged a signal—a way to request her presence should he require it. One thing was certain, he couldn’t bring her to his brothers. They’d just as like gloat over her dead body as revive her.

  Cyane was a healer, and a nymph. She would help Enyo.

  Whether she wished to or not.

  Demoleon gathered the harpy in his arms and raced to the tunnel he’d dug, blowing a stream of smoke up it that Cyane would surely see. After transforming into his centaur shape, he climbed in afterward and hauled Enyo toward the meadow where he and Cyane had agreed to meet. As a centaur, his two sets of hearts and lungs lent him extreme swiftness. With Enyo in his arms, he galloped to the meadow. Praise the gods, as he arrived, she was already there, pacing.

  “What’s wrong, Demo—” Her bright blue scrutiny passed over the maiden in his arms.

  “She’s collapsed and I can’t revive her. Will you try?” Carefully, he laid Enyo on the tall grass and stepped aside for Cyane to work.

  The nymph studied the other female, frowning as she prodded her. “Tell me what happened.”

  How much ought he to disclose to his sister? “Ahh.” He scratched the back of his neck. This was awkward. Best to omit the amorous parts. “I pulled on those strips. She collapsed. Can you help her, Cyane?”

  That shrewd nymph inspected him and the harpy. “You do know what she is, don’t you?”

  He shuffled his hooves and dropped his hand. “Aye. Now, I do. I didn’t when I first brought you to the cave.”

  “We should leave her. Why do you even wish to help her? If I told the others—”

  “Nay, you can’t.” He stomped his hoof. “She might be one of them, but she’s not worthy of our vengeance. Damn, but I care for her.” There. That was a most perplexing truth, but there was even more to it. “She’s… I can’t explain it, except I feel a connection to her. I’m not certain, but I sense she might be my mate.”

  Cyane gaped at him, then she laughed. Abruptly, her chiming halted. “Oh, you’re serious.”

  “Bloody hell, aye, I am,” he snarled, thrashing his head. “There’s a sensation in me around her that I’ve never experienced before. I cannot explain it.”

  “You can’t be mated to a harpy, Demoleon. That would be a rather cruel twist of the Fates.”

  He furrowed his brow. “She’s not what you think she is. Enyo’s not our enemy.”

  Cyane leaned back, pursing her lips. “Well, even if that’s true, I can’t help her. She isn’t suffering from any illness. She’s enchanted.”

  “A spell?”

  She bobbed her head. “These strips of leather, they’re not clothing or adornment, Demoleon. They’re used on birds. They mean she belongs to someone.” Cyane lifted one strip in her hand. “Someone who wants very badly to make his ownership of her clear.”

  * * *

  A pinging agony resounded in her head. Enyo squeezed her eyes against the pain.

  “Oh no, you must awaken,” a rumbling voice commanded.

  She groaned, curling onto her side and squeezing her eyes tighter. Her entire being ached. Why? Oh. Right. Demoleon had tried to remove her bindings. Blasted male. “This is your fault, fool-headed centaur.”

  “Well, you might have said something,” he droned, his tone dipping low. “Like, how you belong to someone else.”

  There was definite malice in his voice, but not projected toward her.

  “That’s hardly of import.” She twirled her fingers in the air in dismissal.

  “It damn well is, if I had almost killed you.”

  Ha. The pain was just a reminder. That she would never be free. Demoleon didn’t need to know the rest. “Wait. How did you learn this?”

  “I took you to my sister.”

  “The nymph?” Ugh. Whipping her eyes open, she scrubbed her hands across her face and body. “She didn’t touch me, did she?” Couldn’t have warm weakness rubbing off on her.

  Demoleon chuckled. “My sister didn’t heal you, nay. She deemed this an enchantment.”

  Enyo didn’t reply and the silence stretched between them.

  “Is she right?”

  She shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t ask about your past, don’t ask about mine.”

  “Why?” In his human form, he bent close, studying her. “What are you afraid of, Strinklia?”

  Males. “I’m not afraid of anything, or anyone. Certainly not of him. Of course, you would conclude as much.”

  His brows bunched and flickers of understanding tightened his features. Oh, gods, she’d said too much.

  “Who is he?”

  She barked a laugh. “You wish to learn his name? Why, so you can find him and make him free me?” Rising, she shoved a hand to push him away. “I don’t desire your aid.
I’ll free myself.”

  He sank to sit with his legs crossed. “Are you trapped in this place?” he muttered to himself. “Nay, you can leave. I saw you. Why then do you stay…”

  “Are you quite finished playing my hero?” She twisted her locks into a braid. “I don’t require your help, or your presence.”

  He cast her a devastating wink. “Seems you’re stuck with both.”

  Enyo sauntered to the basin, where she plucked a cloth and washed her face.

  “I was naught but a youngling when the minotaurs attacked my home,” Demoleon’s lilting baritone rumbled through the cavern. “One speared my mother with his horns. Right before my eyes. Another slammed his weight down upon my leg and crushed it, breaking it so badly it never healed. From above, flames engulfed my home. The mighty beams upholding my family’s home crashed down and pinned me, and I couldn’t escape their flames, lashing at my skin. My father tried fending off those savages, but they tore off his head. My two elder brothers rushed too late to his aid, only to have their necks snapped like twigs.” He released a slow, shuddering breath. “As I lay pinned on the floor by a beam, my mother, yet still alive to witness this brutality, pleaded with me through a mouth full of blood to muster my strength and flee while the minotaurs looted my home and destroyed my family’s heirlooms. I wanted to stay, to save her, but she was beyond saving. I know not where I found the strength, but I like to believe it was from my mother’s love that I was able to heft aside the beam and scramble away. I fled to the only safe haven the minotaurs wouldn’t attack. This mountain. Where Zeus gathered my bloodsworne siblings and bestowed upon us great gifts. We had each lost our families, but he promised us vengeance. If we were but patient and worthy. So,” he rolled his shoulders, “here I am.”

  As he spoke, she’d stood frozen, not daring to turn around and view the pain which must be evident in Demoleon’s features.

  “Now, what about you, lass? You must have a tale to tell from that day.”

  Her heart pinched, the suffering from his past overwhelming her with guilt. This male had laid everything bare for her, but she wasn’t sure how to do the same for him.

  * * *

  Demoleon held his breath and watched uncertainty tense Enyo’s muscles. She didn’t trust him, and for good reason, but he hoped that in sharing his story, he might earn a little of hers.

  From the moment Cyane had declared Enyo belonged to someone, revulsion had twisted his gut. How could anyone profess ownership of another being?

  Even more, she wasn’t free to be with him. My mate. Might it be true? When a centaur began bonding to a female, he’d show signs. A thin black band around his upper left bicep would appear, for one. Left unfulfilled, he’d suffer from the lyssa—a kind of madness. Demoleon had experienced neither of those. Thus far. Mayhap, this enchantment obscured their bond.

  He no longer denied the urge to protect her. To possess her. He could no longer fight the claim his hearts were staking on her. He wanted Enyo. That was an indisputable truth he’d made peace with. His brothers, and even Cyane, might never comprehend it, but he hoped one day they would respect it. They had to. Mates were sacred to centaurs.

  “I don’t know how to tell you about my past,” she whispered, bowing her head.

  “Sweet, Enyo,” he strode toward her and curled his fingers beneath her chin. “One word at a time.”

  She swallowed thickly, her throat constricting. “If you should try to kill me? You won’t like any of my tales.”

  Could he offer her amnesty? His guarantee of protection—against himself? “Aye, I probably won’t. You have my vow that I won’t ever attempt to harm you again. A centaur keeps his word.”

  She lifted those dense lashes and peered at him. “You know what my kind is responsible for, but what you don’t know is why.”

  “Then tell me, love.” He snared her hands and dragged her onto his lap.

  Inhaling deeply, she rested her head against his chest, her legs tucked on one side of his lap. “I was twenty the day I first met him. My kind had always resided on the south coast of Krete, living peacefully amongst ourselves and avoiding interactions with most other species, except when Zeus commanded us. The day he arrived, everyone flocked to watch him. He was magnificent. Cruel, terrifying. Of course, every harpy desired him, but from the crowd, he chose me.”

  “Who was he?” Demoleon swallowed thickly, already sensing what he didn’t wish to know.

  Enyo bit her bottom lip, so he stroked her locks in encouragement. “A minotaur. His name is Asterion and he showed me many things. He brought me to his lair, introduced me to his kin, and spoke of a great day when everything would change for his people. I cared for none of that, but the attention he paid me made my sisters greatly jealous. That I cared for very much.” She scoffed ruefully. “Somehow, he convinced them to that fateful task, but I wasn’t with them that day. He’d given me these, “she flapped her arm, dangling her bindings, “and kept me with him while his army attacked. I didn’t fathom what he’d done until two nights later when I spied upon him. My sisters had never returned and I had to learn why, and where they were. He’d refused to tell me. Of course, minotaurs are clever beasts, and he caught me spying. Asterion promised to reveal my sisters to me, but first he bade me do something for him. He sent me to retrieve the sword of Aegeus from the new King Minos’s palace, and that was when I learned about the centaurs and witnessed the devastation the minotaurs had wrought. I stole the sword, but instead of handing it to him, I demanded he bring me to my sisters. And he did. When I discovered what he’d done to them, I flung the sword into the boulder and swore he’d never have it. Not until its blade sliced off his head.”

  Demoleon whistled low as Enyo halted her tale. “Why don’t you, then?”

  She frowned at her hands, lifting and dropping both shoulders. “I try. For decades, I’ve tried. The sword won’t come to me. Even if it did, King Minos imprisoned the minotaurs. I’m not certain I could locate them, or be successful. The powers they possess…” She shuddered. “They can make you see things which aren’t there. They can trap you inside your own mind. I’m trying to be brave enough to face them, but I’m not sure I am.”

  Holy Hades. Enyo’s story wasn’t what he’d anticipated. “You must understand, you were his victim as well. I don’t blame you for what happened to my family, to my people. You’ve suffered just as much.”

  The tension in his chest eased. Enyo truly wasn’t his enemy. Nay, in fact, they shared a common one. “Let’s retrieve the sword together and, I swear, you’ll be the one to vanquish Asterion.”

  Her shoulders hunched and she shook her head. “It’s not that simple. If I kill him, I might be condemning my sisters forever.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He trapped them, encased in amber stone, to use them against me for my compliance.” She exhaled, long and slow. “I can’t be certain if killing him would free them, or doom them.”

  Chapter 6

  Well, Enyo hadn’t expected that. Instead of earning Demoleon’s wrath, she’d gained his empathy. He closed his arms around her, shielding her in his protective warmth. Gently, he nuzzled her neck and she sighed in contentment. She’d carried this burden alone for a century. It was so comforting to finally share it with someone.

  Never had she imagined she’d find such security with a centaur. Their shared pain had somehow brought them closer.

  She twisted about in his arms and caressed his face with both hands. The strength in him was so different from Asterion. Demoleon was as gentle and kind as he was fearsome and formidable. Asterion thrived on the darkest cruelty. She saw that now, too late to stop him.

  Demoleon closed his hand around her left one. “I will help you rescue your sisters. Together, we shall be free.”

  If only it were so simple. “Even if we freed my family, vanquished the minotaurs, and set your brother on the throne, our worlds would still clash. You may absolve me, but I doubt your family will. Besides, my sister
s would rather rot where they are than beg for centaur mercy.”

  “Nay, you’re wrong. My brothers will come around. I know they will.”

  He was being elusive. Withholding something from her. “What makes you so assured?”

  “There’s something about us I should tell you.”

  “By all means, do so.” She arched a brow at his hesitation.

  He puffed out his breath. “I think you’re my mate.”

  Her jaw dropped. He must fathom how absurd that sounded, yet no hint of jesting crossed his features. “A harpy and a centaur be mates? Why would you say such a thing?”

  He smoothed his rough fingers down her cheek and tiny jolts of pleasure tingled through her being. “Because of how I make you feel. How you make me feel. No matter how hard we try, we cannot escape each other, or cause each other harm. There’s something deep and sacred connecting us, Enyo. I’m certain.”

  The sincerity in his molted depths called to her. Frowning, she stared into them hard, piercing, searching for any sign he was wrong.

  She didn’t determine any.

  Dear gods, he just might be right. They were sworn enemies, yet she craved him in ways she couldn’t explain. Neither could he. Unless they were mates. Destined by the Fates themselves. Their souls connected and bound for all eternity.

  Harpies didn’t often take mates. Unlike centaurs, they didn’t view a cherished home as their goal in life. Harpies existed to fulfill the behests of Zeus. Any desires for themselves came second.

  She closed her eyes, trying to make sense of a situation that seemed beyond reasoning. Even if they joined together, their families would never accept their union. Their worlds would always clash, their pasts bathed in innocent blood.

  Slowly, she lifted her lashes. “Is this what you would choose? Any path we forge together will be arduous.”

  His chest rose and fell, a steady, calm force. “If it meant that I could have you, then aye, Strinklia. I would choose a path most would fathom impossible.”