Falcyn inclined his head to him. "What are they after?"
"Apollo showed up, telling Zeus to abdicate. You know how that went. Even though he's just a figurehead these days, Zeus tossed a few lightning bolts at him and it was on."
With a hand covered by sharpened silver claws he used as a weapon, Zarek grabbed a demon that tried to bite him, ripped out its throat, and slung it so hard, it flew up and almost hit Max.
"Hey!"
"Duck," Zarek said sarcastically, a little late.
Max flipped off the surly god.
For once, Zarek ignored the insult as he headed after another group. At least someone enjoyed the fighting.
Suddenly, Illarion caught an odd note over the sounds of battle. At first, he thought he was hearing things.
But it seemed to grow louder....
He shook his head in denial. No.
It was a figment of his imagination. A vague memory caused by war and the memories it stirred. Nothing more.
Just something weird in the wind.
Yet it didn't abate.
Worse, it began to lure him like the call of a siren.
Without a word and unable to resist the musical summons, Illarion tucked his wings and landed near his father's temple.
Max landed beside him. "Is something wrong?"
Do you hear that?
"Hear what?"
Illarion cocked his head as he heard it even more clearly now, and it was definitely inside the temple. It's Cercamon.
"Who?"
A twelfth-century troubadour. Edilyn was forever making me take her to see him play.
Max heard it then. Light and subtle. Barely audible and yet distinct.
Bel m'es quant ilh m'enfolhetis
E*m fai badar e*n vau muzan!
De leis m'es bel si m'escarnis
O*m gaba dereir'o denan,
Qu'apres lo mal me venra bes
Be leu, s'a lieys ven a plazer.
What the hell? Why would that be playing in the background? It seemed a strange choice for a Greek god of war.
Metallica, Pantera ... that would make sense. Death metal, definitely. But medieval love poetry?
Nah, it just didn't fit.
Illarion turned human so that he could sneak inside for a peek. Max followed suit only to find that it wasn't Ares who was playing and singing in the middle of battle.
It was Apollo. Which kind of made sense, he supposed, since Apollo was the god of music and poetry, and rather passive.
Sure, why not? Him and Nero. Fiddling while Rome, or in this case, Olympus burned.
The god probably needed the light from the fires to read with his old eyes.
As if sensing their presence, Apollo stopped playing and narrowed his gaze angrily on the shadows that concealed them. "Little dragons, all in a row. Tell the big Greek god, how deep does your sorrow flow?"
Illarion curled his lip.
Max grabbed Illarion's arm and tried to pull him back, but Illarion refused to obey.
He needed to wring Apollo's neck.
Apollo rose to his feet, while he continued to pluck at his lyre. "I know you're there, son of Ares. I can feel you. Come and give your uncle a hug ... sing with me."
Illarion actually took a step forward.
Max sank his claws into his brother's arm, hoping the pain might get through to him since nothing else was working, and shook his head no. It's a trick!
Pressing his lips together, Illarion finally hesitated.
"Ahh," Apollo said in a petulant tone. He plucked a sour note. "Don't you trust me, Illy? You do know that's why Dagon chose you for his experiments all those centuries ago, don't you? Because you were my nephew, he thought to use you to spare the Apollites my curse. He knew my love for you, as your uncle, would sway my mercy. It's why I begged Zeus and the Fates to spare you from the slaughter."
Apollo tsked. "Your jealous half brother Max didn't tell you that, did he? That I never wanted you harmed. You and Lycaon's sons were to be excluded from the cleansing. Your brother lied to you, Illarion, to save his own ass, and to win you to his cause. It's what he's been doing since the very beginning. Why do you think he left you trapped all those centuries in Le Terre Derriere le Voile?"
Max gaped furiously at that accusation. Bullshit! You know better, Illy. You were there. You heard them, same as I. That's not the way it happened!
"Don't listen to him. You aren't born of Arel blood, little nephew. You have no loyalty to anyone save our pantheon. Join us and I'll give you what you want most."
"Illarion." Max spoke out loud, trying to reach his brother through whatever spell the god was weaving with his lyre and words. "Don't listen to Apollo. He's lying. You know he's lying!"
He was right. Illarion knew Apollo couldn't speak honestly if he had to. It just wasn't in the worthless bastard. Hell, even his instrument was pronounced as a liar.
Illarion took a step back and grabbed on to Max's arm to steady himself.
Relieved beyond belief that his brother had chosen wisely, Max wrapped his arms around him and held him close. He could feel Illarion trembling against him.
Until a light, musical voice called out with the cadence of a perfect angel.
"Illarion?"
In that moment, Illarion's world came crashing down.
For a full minute, he couldn't breathe.
Stunned. Shocked. Incredulous, he pulled back and looked up with wide eyes. No. It couldn't be.
Edilyn?
"I'm here, my precious dearling. I've missed you so much!"
Apollo laughed. "All you have to do is join me, nephew. Help me take back what was stolen and I'll see you reunited with your Edilyn."
Max shook his head and held on tight to Illarion's arm. "You can't do this! Illarion! It's a trick!"
Illarion looked from his brother to Edilyn. This was no trick. He would know that voluptuous body anywhere. Those blue eyes that laughed and shined more vibrantly than the sun ...
That ebony hair that caressed his skin like the finest silk.
She had no equal in this world. No one could fake her beauty. He'd lain awake for centuries, tortured with the memories of every nuance of her.
His eyes haunted, Illarion met Max's gaze with a longing insanity. And if it were Seraphina? What choice would you make, brother?
The truth of that statement burned like fire in Max's golden eyes. He knew what choice he'd make.
The same one Illarion did as he shoved his brother back and ran to Apollo.
In that moment, Max knew he couldn't stay. If he did, he'd be forced to fight the last creature on this planet he'd ever harm.
The brother he'd spent a lifetime protecting.
Worse, he knew that wasn't Edilyn. It couldn't be. It was an illusion of some kind. But Illarion was so desperate to have her back that he didn't care. He was past listening to reason.
He was past caring about consequences and Max couldn't fault him for that. Not after he'd been there here himself.
Distracted, Max glanced back into the temple to check on Illarion as he embraced whatever demon or creature wore the skin of his brother's wife. His thoughts and emotions were so scattered and raw that for a moment, he forgot he was still in a human body.
Forgot he was in the middle of a war and a battle.
But he was reminded fast when a demon materialized in front of him and ran him completely through his heart with a sword, and kicked him to the ground, leaving him there to die.
27
Illarion was no longer on Olympus. He no longer heard the sounds of battle or Apollo's voice.
In one heartbeat, he was transported back in time. Back to the fateful day when Morgen had cornered him and Edilyn in the Tor.
He felt his wife on his back as she battled, giving him commands with her knees and feet. The pressure of her shifting weight and how she squeezed him with her thighs.
They'd fought together so many times by then that they'd learned to become a single unit. A single b
But something had struck his chest at the same time Maddor had come at his back.
He still didn't know what the bastard had used to cut her from the saddle while Illarion had been too dazed to use his powers to teleport her to safety. To tear her from the magick harness he'd used to make sure that nothing could harm her.
"Illy!" Her anguished, fearful cry had splintered his soul that day.
Unable to catch his breath, he'd turned to save her. Only to find more mandrakes and gargoyles in his way. His powers wouldn't work.
Fighting desperately through them, he'd seen her plummeting toward the ground. Plummeting toward her death.
Edilyn!
He could never get that sight out of his mind. Any more than the last heartbeat of her dying. That last, single gasp that had forever haunted him.
Don't leave me! he'd begged through his tears.
But her grip had fallen loose on his hand.
His heart had shattered.
And then they'd torn her from his grasp. He'd relived that moment, over and over, until it'd driven him mad. Unable to forgive himself for failing her, he'd used his powers to sear the words of her favorite poem into the flesh of his arm so that he'd always have a piece of her with him.
At night, in his dreams, he'd imagined her with him again. Just the two of them ...
In a world where their bond couldn't be undone. Where death could never take her from his arms. If only it were real....
If only she were still alive.
"Did you break him?"
Apollo frowned at Kessar's question. How he hated the gallu demon. But sadly, the Sumerian bastard was a necessary evil for his plans to strike down his pantheon and Apollymi.
At least for now.
"Not sure. Never seen a dragon do this before. Did you or one of yours bite him and convert him to your slave?"
Kessar shook his blond head. "But now that you mention it..."
Apollo stopped him as he started to fix that oversight. "Convert the dragon, and he won't be able to access his island."
"Why not?"
"He will no longer be a true drakomai. He'll be a mindless gallu slave. Only one of his species can access the chest that holds what we need."
Kessar curled his lip. "Why do we need this army?"
Apollo strummed his lyre and did his best not to react to such a ridiculously dumb question. "In theory, we don't. Just makes our job easier. After all, this is not the only realm we have to take. And that little bastard there is a Dragonmark. Do you know what that is?"
The demon shook his head.
Of course not. Gallu were insanely stupid creatures.
Apollo sighed, but hid his aggravation. "They are a rare, rare beast. Only he and his sister, Xyn, bear that title anymore. Sadly, no one knows what has become of her. He's the last one we can find." He shot a god-bolt from his hand into Illarion.
The moment it hit him, it caused his human flesh to illuminate. And beneath it, an intricate pattern emerged. Like bony thorns, it spiraled over his skin. Lovely and at the same time terrifying.
Illarion's eyes glowed white.
Apollo passed a smug smile to the demon. "That is the Dragonmark. They absorb power from the gods and can use it to attack. It makes them stronger and harder to kill than their counterparts. There's a prophecy among my people that anyone who can command a Dragonmark in his army will never be defeated. Not by man. And never by the gods."
He jerked his chin to the demon. "You'd do well to collar him now while he's lost wherever it is he is. Once he comes out of that state ... he'll probably kick our asses."
"I wouldn't chain him, if I were you."
Apollo arched his brow at the soft, feminine voice. "You dare question me?"
"You freed me to handle him, did you not?"
He turned his head to glare at Edilyn. "Yes. But not to contradict me."
"Not contradicting, my lord. Cautioning." She jerked her chin toward Illarion. "You chain him and he will react badly. I don't think you're prepared for what you will unleash."
Apollo glared at her. "Fine, then. You keep the beast under control. Otherwise, I will destroy you."
She inclined her head to him before she slowly approached Illarion.
Edilyn tried to ignore the wretched beasts around her and to not betray exactly how grateful she was to be here.
With Illarion.
This was a frightening game they were forcing her to play. But this was the only chance she had to save him.
And herself.
Terrified of how her dragon might react, she carefully touched his arm.
Illarion closed his eyes as if he savored that small bit of contact. You're not real.
She glanced to the others before she used her thoughts to answer his. I am, my love. And I'm here. Come, Illy. Follow me.
Trying not to betray them, she took his hand and led him from the temple to the hall where Apollo wanted them kept. It was basically a prison, surrounded by his faithful servants and demons.
But it afforded them a degree of privacy.
It wasn't until she'd shut the doors and started the torches that Illarion finally came out of his very mild torpor. Then, his anger was palatable. You're not my Edilyn. You can't be.
"Look inside your heart, Illy. Remember the day we met? You were in the guise of an old man. I had no interest in tying myself to a dragon lord. I wanted nothing to do with your world. Not until Morla snapped my bow that my father had made for me. And you, my precious heart, so kindly repaired it."
Illarion blinked as those words choked him. He stared down into those beautiful blue eyes that seemed so familiar. Into a face he'd loved for so long that he could no longer remember a time when he hadn't lived for her.
Dare he believe this was real? That she was somehow alive?
She held the same lush, full curves of his Addie-Rose. Her voice the same cadence and accent.
But ...
I saw you die.
"You saw me shed my mortal skin. Remember that I told you my mother was a kikimora?"
He nodded.
Tears filled her eyes as she laid her palm to his cheek. "When Maddor killed me, I was pulled to her realm, to live among her people. But I had no key that would enable me to return to the Tor, or pierce the Veil to reach you. I've tried a thousand times, in a million ways. Ever wanting to be with you. But Merlin's magick was too strong. Not even in dreams could I find you."
Tears blurred his vision as indecision tortured him. Indecision that wasn't helped when she kissed him in a way only Edilyn ever had.
He knew the taste of these lips. The way her hands felt sliding over his body.
Closing his eyes, he inhaled her scent and let it take him back to the last time in his life when he'd felt whole. Intact.
And this time, she was the one who used powers she shouldn't have to remove their clothes.
Stunned, he pulled back to stare down at her. Who are you?
"I'm your Edilyn, but I have changed from the innocent girl who ran away with you. Time and longing have taken a toll on me."
And your sister?
Laughing, she nipped at his lips. "You're the one with a sister, love. Sarraxyn. Virag lives. Not happily, as I've made his life a living hell for what he did to us, and especially for his theft of your stone."
Tears gathered in her eyes as she drew a ragged breath. "Please believe in me, Illarion. I swear, I won't harm you. That is not why I'm here."
He sucked his breath in sharply as she reached down between their bodies to cup him in her palm. His blood raced through his veins. It'd been so long since he'd been touched by another. In honor of her, he'd never allowed any other lover access to his body.
I've missed you. Those words tore themselves from him before he could stop them.
"Missed you, too," she whispered against his lips. "Now come home, my lord, where you belong."
Pinning her against the wall behind her, he drove himself deep inside her. She cried out as he ground his teeth against the wave of excruciating pleasure that tore through him.
Edilyn fisted her hand in his long auburn hair while he made furious love to her. She screamed out in ecstasy at how good it felt to have him deep in her body again. It'd been far too long.
Now ...
She never wanted to let him go.
Sinking her nails into the flesh of his back, she came in a blinding wave of pleasure.
Illarion hissed as he felt her climax. Kissing her, he quickened his thrusts so that he could join her. Even then, he didn't withdraw immediately. Rather, he stayed inside her for as long as his body would allow it.
But all too soon, they were forced to separate.
Taking his hand, Edilyn led him to a small bedroom that held a good-sized bed with furs for covers. She tucked him into it, then laid herself across him and savored his long, muscled body. This was all she'd wanted. For centuries, she'd craved this one homecoming.
Unable to believe this was real, he toyed with the wealth of ebony hair that fell over his chest in a beautiful cascade of waves.
In that moment, he wanted to die.
Because he knew that all too soon, Apollo would come to him with a price tag for this happiness.
And he knew that no matter what the god asked of him, he would pay it.
'Cause whatever the price, it would be worth it to keep her by his side.
Hell. High water. Blood. Bone.
Soul.
His or anyone else's.
I can't lose her again.
And no matter what, he wouldn't.
*
For a full week, Apollo left them alone. Every day that went by was worse than the one before.
And so much sweeter.
Illarion hated it because he felt himself drowning. He was so desperate to be with Edilyn that he spent most of his time in the body of a man. He all but abandoned his dragon form.
A dragon couldn't hold her. Couldn't bury his face in the crook of her neck and spoon up against her body to sleep. Nor could he lay his head between her breasts and sleep with her fingers tangled in his hair.
God help him, he didn't want to be a dragon ever again.
He just wanted to be with her. Curled up in her arms. Forever. This was all he needed.
All he wanted ...
Edilyn kissed the top of Illarion's head as she cradled him against her. They'd been abed for days now. And while she was enjoying this thoroughly, she was concerned. "Illy?"
Mmm?
"I'm worried about you."
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