Wicked Lord of Thessaly

This book was given to JOANNA Rączkowska on Instafreebie. www.instafreebie.com

Her arrow pierced his centaur heart When Eione, daughter of the Lapith Lord Macareus, accidentally shoots the centaur Agrius, she must choose between saving his life and finishing him off. Their races might not be at war anymore, but for her family, the hostility never ended. Yet she can’t kill the male with gentle eyes, whose touch ignites her with so much more than a desire for peace. But captured his human one Lord Agrius risked his life in venturing to Lapith lands, trespassing through enemy territory to retrieve the sacred water that could cure his brother’s grief. The lovely huntress who shot him yet saved his life entices him to risk far more. But claiming her as his mate means he’ll have to steal her hand—and hazard a war. On the run for their lives and their hearts After her family arranges a betrothal to another, Eione convinces Agrius to flee with her. As dark times drive a chasm between their races, they’ll have to choose—blood or love—and which one is worth dying, and killing, for.

W ICKED LORD OF THESSALY LORDS OF THESSALY #1

RACHAEL SLATE

CONTENTS

Free Reads! Huntress of the Bow Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Epilogue Part 1 Epilogue Part 2 Epilogue Part 3 Glossary Acknowledgments Meet Rachael Free Reads! Also by Rachael Slate Preview of Brutish Lord of Thessaly

FREE READS!

Psst! Do you love free books? How about sizzling fantasy romances that sweep you away to exotic worlds, pull you in, and leave you breathless? Subscribe to Rachael’s newsletter and receive her scorching hot novella, Rematch, for free. If you haven’t taken a bite of her Chinese Zodiac Romance Series yet, then this standalone novella is the perfect start. You’ll also receive a free copy of her steamy centaurshifter novella, Wicked Lord of Thessaly, book one in the swoon-worthy, complete Lords of Thessaly series. If you love Greek Mythology, this is one you don’t want to miss. Plus, you can check out the bonus epilogue for Trancing the Tiger, Foul Play: a Moon Borne short story, and a bonus prologue for Water Borne. Grab your free reads by joining Rachael’s newsletter. *Please check your inbox/junk folder for your freebies*

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2016 by Rachael Slate All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. First Edition July 2016 Edited by Kelley Heckart Cover design by NovelArt Designs Tribal Artwork by Alyssa Renae White Formatting by NovelArt Designs Epub: ISBN 978-1-988396-00-2 Kindle: ISBN 978-0-9948764-9-2

HUNTRESS OF THE BOW

When the Olympian gods overthrew the Titans, they divided the rule of the world. Zeus proclaimed himself Supreme Ruler and governed the skies. Poseidon claimed the oceans. The Underworld, and the souls of the dead, fell to Hades. All were content with the arrangement. Until Hades met Persephone. Their forbidden love blasted through Mt. Olympus, initiating a cataclysmic rift between the gods. The imbalance in the heavens nearly shattered the fragile human world below. In punishment, Zeus cursed Persephone. Nine months of each year, she would remain by her mother’s side, tending to the human harvests. The other three months were hers to spend with her husband, Hades, in the Underworld. The arrangement pleased none. Centuries have passed. As humans turn their devotion to

Science, the powers of the Olympian gods diminish. In an attempt to regenerate their divinity, the gods have procreated, breeding new species of being—such as centaurs, winged ones, and mermaydes. With the unique strengths of their individual godly parents, these descendants have thrived in their own worlds, alongside humans but hidden from view. The rift in Olympus widens as each god gains new strength. When the Fates intervene with a damning wager, these descendants become the answer to Persephone’s curse. Hades and Persephone’s quest to reclaim their love will pit god against god, in a tournament unmatched since time began. Victory will lie in the union of warriors—exceptional females who control the elements and the males whose love makes them strong. If they succeed, love will be theirs to claim. But if they fail, their love will fall to ruin. It is the eve of war, and the battle for the power of the Huntress of the Bow begins now.

Indeed, you bleed just as we do

CHAPTER 1

Lapith lands, southeastern Thessaly Year 57 of the reign of King Pirithous III

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ione lowered the tip of her bow, aimed, and loosed the arrow straight into the stag’s flank. At this distance, and in the dim morning light, most would have missed. But the silver spark of her gift flamed from her hands, and sure enough, the beast went down. Excellent. She plucked her sack from the ground next to her feet and rushed through the dense forest, sprinting toward her kill. If she worked quickly, she could butcher the animal and deliver the meat to the villagers before her brothers—the twins—had even rolled out of bed. She’d tossed a few coins at the castle nymphs to ensure they kept her two eldest brothers entertained. She snorted and dashed around a tree, slipping her blade from her side to finish off the stag should it still be breathing. Hunting offered her little pleasure, other than being able to feed those in her village that her brothers

Myron and Nileas would turn away. Men, women, and children starved while her family feasted on extravagant platters and cast the remnants to the castle dogs. Brutes. There. She slowed her pace, murmuring a prayer to Artemis, goddess of the hunt, that her kill would be swift. Hunting on her family’s land was forbidden to the villagers, but no one had banned consuming the results of Eione’s pastimes. Indeed, her family encouraged her archery, and never questioned whether she left her spoils for the scavengers. She didn’t dare risk the villagers setting foot inside the forest, so she would use the sled she’d fashioned to transport the meat to them. The limited time she had to work before her brothers would charge into the woods— hunting for sport—meant she’d honed her butchering skills to an art. A wheezing grunt echoed off the trees ahead, followed by shuffling and a twig snapping. Damn. She flattened her spine against a willow tree, chest heaving. I’m not alone. Had someone else discovered her kill? Gripping the blade tighter, she steeled her shoulders, preparing to face whoever dared interrupt her. If it was someone within the castle, she’d have no choice but to abandon the carcass. Eione peered around the tree’s trunk. A low, deep cursing grumbled from a male sprawled across the forest floor. What in Hades was he doing? Already taking apart her kill? Never. She slid her blade back into place and strung her bow instead, stepping from the tree’s shadow as she aimed the arrow at the intruder’s chest. “Ho, there. What are you—” No. Her threat stuck in her throat and the strength drained from her arms, the string of her bow limp.

This man wasn’t stealing her kill. He was her kill.

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grius choked on the dozen curses resting upon the tip of his tongue. Framed by the dawn’s gilded rays, this beauty stepping from out of the woods struck him silent. As ethereal as Artemis, goddess of the hunt. He blinked. Perhaps she was the goddess. Agrotere. Huntress. No. Her lower lip trembled as she tightened the string of her bow, panic flickering in her rounded violet eyes. Flares from the dawn glinted across her golden locks, casting her in an unearthly glow that stole his breath. Not that he had much breath left. Her arrow had struck him, sure and fierce, piercing his centaur heart. Each winced pant seared through the horse half of his body. If he didn’t morphos, he’d find his end, bleeding out on this earthen floor. Slowly, and forcing his features not to grimace and provoke her fear further, he held up one placating hand. “Please, Agrotere, I mean you no harm.” Though he could well assume why she would believe he did. He was deep in Lapith country, far from his family’s lands. Far enough away that many had never encountered one of his kind. And sheltered enough to give credit to the old tales. Centuries ago, Lapiths and centaurs had been at war. A devastating series of battles had decimated both of their races. For some, the conflict had never ended. He swallowed hard, pressing his hand to the wound,

trying to halt the flow of blood. The arrow must come out, and he must morphos, or die. This delicate female before him seemed intent on driving yet another arrow into his flesh. “You are trespassing on Lapith lands, centaur. My father, Lord Macareus, is cousin to the King.” Oh, hell. A noblewoman? A relative of King Pirithous III also, who didn’t care whether his subjects upheld the treaties of peace between their races. A pang shot through his flank and he clenched his fist, debating his best route to survival. “Forgive me the offense, Agrotere. I had no intention of trespassing, nor any knowledge I had done so.” He raised his gaze to hers, peering into those shining depths. “But if we’re disclosing lineage, I must inform you I am the son of King Cheiron and my death at your hands would not—” Her sharp intake of breath was the response he’d sought. “Permit me to morphos and heal myself. After, I give you my word I will quit these lands.” Damn. He’d not ventured so far, or risked so much, only to scurry home with his tail between his legs. Wariness flickered in her drawn features, but she waved the tip of her arrow at his chest. “Very well. Morphos, but you must go, or I will cry for my brothers, and rest assured, they will shoot for your true heart. And not miss.” Such steel in her voice. He bit down on a grin. Had they not been born from opposing families, he would have followed her home and requested to court her. His father had long hinted that Agrius wed, yet no female had tempted him. Until her. Bloody cursed weaving of the Fates. To place such forbidden temptation in front of him.

“Aye.” He nodded, then focused on not dying. Gritting his teeth, he cut into the wound with his dagger and plucked the arrow, tossing it aside. The morphos stretched his limbs, breaking and reforming muscle and bone, until he rested before her, a human male only in form. His heart would always beat with the vigor of his centaur blood. Agrius remained on the ground, lifting his chin to study the female clad in a male’s breeches and hunting cloak. He might have mistaken her for a commoner, if not for the regal bearing of her shoulders. “Thank you.” He extended his hand. “My name is Lord Agrius. Second son of King Cheiron.” Her stare narrowed on his hand. “Lady Eione. Second daughter of Lord Macareus.” She lifted her chin to glare at him. “Now, leave.” Though the morphos helped to mend him, he’d never taken a direct hit in the heart before. He lowered his hand to his middle and grimaced at his crimson-stained fingers. The wound bled, seeping through his ivory tunic. “I would, but…” Sudden faintness claimed him, spinning the trees to his left. He blinked at the dazzling female and slunk to the ground as she faded from his view.

CHAPTER 2

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ione’s heartbeat thundered in her ears. Her arm pained from clutching the string of her bow taut, yet she didn’t dare ease her grip. Lord Agrius blinked at her once before collapsing on the forest floor. A trick? She inched forward and kicked at his leg with the toe of her boot. Just enough to test his response. None. Is he dead? She bit the inside of her cheek. Oh gods. She’d never killed a man before. Though he was half beast. Stepping closer, she hovered above him, arrow still aimed at his human heart. His chest rose and fell evenly. Not dead, then. Her chest tightened. She was only partly relieved. What was she to do with him? If she revealed his presence to her father and the twins, they would surely hang him. She’d never met a centaur before, but the tapestries hanging from their Great Hall proclaimed her family’s stance on the treaties. Each lavishly woven tapestry depicted the barbaric centaur race raping, pillaging, and

murdering her people. And after, the Lapiths struck back, beheading the vile savages and brandishing their heads like trophies. This male, however, hadn’t spoken in a slurred, crude language. He’d communicated in Olympian, the refined dialect of the gods and their descendants. As beautiful as a god himself, his square jaw and etched features had been carved with an exotic artistry. His equally seductive pewter eyes had shone with intelligence and kindness. She’d anticipated feeling less intimidated now that he’d transformed from his massive centaur form, yet the male below her was fashioned of pure brawn. A raw virility shaped his thick muscles. Even as he lay on the ground, she perceived he was tall and solid, his frame so differently hewn than the burly statures of her brothers. This male was decadent. Which also meant dangerous. She drew her brows together. If her family executed this male, his family would retaliate. How much blood would be shed before vengeance was served? If she healed him, would he indeed quit her family’s lands? What had tempted a centaur to traipse about in hostile territory anyway? She huffed and lowered her bow. There was no choice to be made. The Fates had strewn this male across her path and she must do whatever she could to aid him. Eione rushed to her sled and dragged it through the forest toward the male. She snagged her hands beneath his arms and, grunting, hoisted him onto it. Gods, but the male was solid. Wrapping the straps around her upper body, she trudged forward, tugging the sled toward her childhood play den. Carved beneath an ancient oak, the hollow was

her secret hideaway where she sought sanctuary. No one would come across the centaur here, so it was much safer than transporting him into the village. At the entrance, she untangled herself from the straps, rolled her sore shoulders, and clasped her arms around the male once more, hauling him into the shelter. At least he’d transformed. Had he remained in centaur form, she wouldn’t have been able to heft his weight. After towing the male inside, she propped him against the earthen wall. Though sunlight streamed in from the entry, the chamber proved too dim to tend to his wound, so she retrieved an oil lamp from the shelf and lit it, then returned the lamp to the ledge. After withdrawing a box of healing supplies from the shelf above them, Eione stole a deep breath and peeled aside the male’s coat and ivory shirt, squinting at him through the flickering illumination. Crimson liquid dribbled from a gash in his middle. Indeed, you bleed just as we do. Hmm. Doubtful the arrow had pierced any other organ, she pressed a clean cloth to the wound and slowed the bleeding. She snagged a bottle of rum from the shelf and uncorked it with her teeth, then lifted the cloth and poured a generous dose across the laceration. The male groaned and his eyes fluttered behind their lids, but he didn’t wake. Probably for the best. She wiped away the blood, drew out a needle and thread from the box, and sewed the wound shut. This male had ruined her entire morning. Now, she had no stag to offer the villagers. The twins would be out of bed soon and Eione couldn’t risk them stumbling upon the centaur. Yet she couldn’t direct her ire at Agrius. In his

peaceful slumber, he was simply too beautiful to hate.

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grius dragged a hand across his face, opening his eyes and blinking into the darkness. Where the hell am I? A damp, earthy scent filled his nostrils. He clambered to sit and winced at the sharp stabbing ache in his gut. Right. Arrow. Where was the seductive beauty who’d shot him? He jolted, whipping his head around, scanning into the dim chamber. His centaur sense of smell told him no other person was present, although a faint, floral scent permeated the space. Her. His horse reared, itching to sprint from his place and seek her out. The Lady Eione must have hauled him here, but why? Why save my life? He pressed a hand to his side. Why stitch my wound? He’d given her no just cause for aiding him. A padding echo thumped from outside. He tensed at having no weapon in his hands. “Are you awake, centaur?” a feminine voice called. The anxiety departed his body on a heaved sigh. “Aye, Agrotere.” First, a glinting blade pressed forward, followed by the maiden. He squinted into this damned dim chamber. He must have been half out of his mind and on the brink of death earlier, because his horse jolted inside him as she neared. Agrius sniffed, and aye, no mistaking her scent. Or

how the fragrance affected his horse. The poor beast thrashed against its reins, squealing and demanding one thing. Claim her. He swallowed thickly, clearing his throat. Mayhap the maiden had cast a spell upon him, because the only other explanation was… No. Clenching his fists, he tore his appreciation off her lovely form and slowed his breaths, staring at the earthen wall. What a cruel twist of the Fates that would be. For both of them. “Why did you save me?” he rasped, his throat dry from lack of water. She slid one foot forward and knocked a flask off the shelf above him with the tip of her blade. He caught the vessel and removed the cork, then guzzled. “I took a gamble, centaur. That less blood would be shed should I sew you up and send you on your way. I suggest you don’t prove me wrong.” The spiked tip inched closer to the base of his throat. Setting aside the flask, he flicked his scrutiny to her. A mistake, for those sultry eyes were swirling pools of entrancement meant to drown him. Not that he would care. One taste of those full, petalpink lips and he’d die a happy male. “I thank you. In truth, I mean you and your family no harm.” The words came out easier after his parched throat had been soothed, although a new thirst claimed its place. His cock stirred, growing thick and long as his survey dropped to the soft buckskin breeches caressing the fine curves of her hips.

“Eyes on my face, centaur.” The tip poked into his neck. He jolted, dragging his admiration off her fine shape. “Forgive me. One does not normally encounter noblewomen clad in the garb of men. Does your family permit your attire?” Her eyes narrowed, but her mouth twitched at the corners. “No,” she waved him to the side with her blade, “which is why you’ll turn your back while I change.” His attention drifted to the shelf on his left and the feminine garments tucked inside. Brazen. He grinned, shifting to his side to give her his back, despite every instinct inside him screaming to aid her in the process of undressing. And then to perform other acts her family would undoubtedly frown upon. The rustling of her clothes as she changed was a pained screeching in his ears, but at last, she hummed from the entryway. “Finished. You may turn around.” He rolled onto his back, wincing at the panging reminder of his wound. “Hmm. You should let me examine your injury.” Strangely enough, she queried instead of demanded, her stiff stance hesitative. Was she intimidated by him, even in human form? “Aye, thank you.” He nodded and she approached him as one would a wounded bear. Ha. “I’ll not bite you, lass.” A lie for certain. He’d bet every inch of her curves would demand some form of nibble. Still, he winked, easing his head to rest flat, and attempted to appear far more innocuous than he truly was. Her breath sucked in while she knelt beside him, folding open his waistcoat and peeling aside his ivory tunic. His muscles jerked at her feather-light touch, and

he whipped his gaze to hers. The same sparks flared in her eyes. They both suffered this attraction. Eione frowned at his abdomen. “The gash ought to have healed faster than this.” She tugged that plump bottom lip between her teeth, making him fight a groan. “I fear your wound may have become infected. Your skin is already flushed and heated.” Her nearness drove his horse to madness. She smelled so damn sweet. The pain in his abdomen blurred like a distant dream, but a searing agony flamed across his upper left arm. His entire body burned, not from fever of infection. Oh, hell, no. The lyssa.

CHAPTER 3

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ione brushed her fingers across the male’s sculpted abdomen, biting back a moan at how the muscles danced along her fingertips, jolting at her touch as though she played a tune on a lyre. This intoxicating attraction toward the handsome male could prove damning in so many ways. Already, she risked much by saving his life. By concealing his presence. Sliding her tongue across her bottom lip, she peered into the male’s entrancing pewter eyes. She’d never experienced the yearning to kiss a man. The Lapith suitors who called upon her family’s manor directed their attentions toward her elder sister. None had gazed at her the way this male did. As though she were a sun-ripened berry ready to be plucked, and devoured. She cleared her throat and shuffled backward. Of course he behaved thus. Even if he weren’t already delirious from fever, centaurs bore the reputation of being the most virile and lusty creatures the gods had fashioned. If another female were present, he wouldn’t cast Eione a second glimpse. She was naught but a

headstrong noblewoman who pranced about in the forest clad in men’s clothing. Not an inch of her made a suitable bride for a worthy male. Just as she pulled away to stand, he clasped her hand. “Thank you, Lady Eione.” Firm, strong fingers enclosed about hers, sending sparks of yearning spiking through her veins. Did she care if he sought her hand, or only her body? A male like this could ruin her family’s schemes and never be around to be punished. Her elder sister had whispered of betrothals. As soon as one was secured for Lavra, Eione would be the next one sold to some wretched, unsuspecting male who’d never guess at Eione’s true nature—or permit her such freedom ever again. In her world, docile Lapith women wed powerful Lapith men and produced acquiescent Lapith children who would continue that cycle. Her mother had and Eione would. She rubbed the amethyst necklace hanging from her neck—all that remained of her mother, Philyre, who’d died giving birth to Eione’s younger brother, Dryas. Philyre might not have escaped her fate, but she’d gifted Eione her first bow at age seven with a twinkle in her eyes promising Eione a brighter future. Heat flushing her cheeks, Eione jerked her hand free. “Why were you trespassing?” He frowned at his empty hand before angling his face toward hers. “I did not intend to. As I tried to explain, I mistook the borders of your family’s lands.” “That doesn’t clarify why you are in Lapith country.” He clucked. “No, it does not. I’m in search of a rare well. A nymph informed me it is located on Mount Pelion.” Eione snorted. The poor male had likely been tricked. “A nymph will tell you anything if you spread her legs

wide enough.” His eyes jerked wide as though he’d never envisioned a lady uttering such a vulgar musing. She shrugged. “I traipse about the forest clad in men’s clothing and engaging in men’s sports.” One hand perched on her hip, she arched a brow. “Don’t assume I’m as delicate as I appear, Lord Agrius.” The shock froze as a mask upon his face, but then he chuckled. “I shall bear that in mind.” The wicked intents crossing his features drove longings deep into her belly and she pressed her thighs together, shoving aside those yearnings. Permitting Agrius to have his way with her would definitely thwart her family’s plans. To them, her innocence was worth more than she was. “Why do you seek this well?” the question blurted from her lips, shooing aside her darker reflections. “A Lapith child in my village suffers from a curse and this nymph informed me the sacred waters would cure him.” Odd. She narrowed her glare on him. The hairs on her arms and neck raised. She whipped out the dagger she’d tucked into her boot and poised the blade toward his throat. “Why not send a Lapith to procure the waters? Why risk yourself for a mere village boy?” Agrius leaned back and scratched his jaw. “A valid question.” He dropped his hand and huffed. “In truth, ’tis no village boy. The one who is ill is my brother. I could entrust such a task to no one but myself.” She sank onto her knees, lowering the dagger. “You told me it was a Lapith boy so I would be more empathetic to your cause.” He held up his hands in surrender. “You saved my life, but I could not expect you to spare another

centaur’s.” “You will not lie to me again.” She tipped the point of her blade toward him once more. “The next falsehood you speak will end your life. Understand?” His eyes flashed in mirth. “Aye, Agrotere.”

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grius chuckled at the capable and fiery female who’d drawn a blade on him as fast as any male. That she hadn’t yet sliced his throat indicated he could trust her. “Your brother, what is wrong with him?” He started at her renewed questioning and inclined his head. “He’s grieving the loss of his mate who died in childbirth to their sons.” “And you, you have no sons? Or daughters. Or… wives.” Her tone pitched high over the last word. Ah. His horse stamped about, demanding to utter what he could not, because she was the only female he sought. My mate. The longer he scented her, the more this flaming ache in his arm screamed she was the female his horse had chosen. Sweet gods. He blinked and focused on Eione’s lips, on the words she formed. Not on that lush mouth, fastened around his cock. Hell. He scraped a hand across his jaw and shifted his hips to conceal the enormity of his arousal. “No wife, no children.” “Ah, good.” Eione nodded. “That’s, ah, good.” She cleared her throat, a flush creeping along her cheeks in a

most becoming manner. Gods, she was exquisite. “Why does your brother not fetch the waters himself?” “Oreius?” He expelled the air from his lungs in a low huff. “My brother is not well. Hasn’t been well, not since his mate passed.” “Oh, that is so sad.” She drew her mouth tight. This female was caring and empathetic. Her kindness pricked at his chest. “My turn for a question.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “If you didn’t intend to kill me, why did you shoot me?” Her spine straightened, shoulders setting stiffly. “I was hunting. I mistook your centaur flank for a stag’s. You’re much the same color in the dawn’s rays.” Her tilted chin dared him to defy her words. Instead, he reclined, chuckling. “My brothers will hound me on this for a century, at least.” She chimed a laugh, crisp and light in his ears. “I promise not to tell them.” The image of introducing Eione to his brothers and his father, as his mate, flashed through his mind, filling his chest with warmth and pride. Then the picture faded and the truth of their worlds closed in. Her family would never accept his offer of marriage, and to take her hand without their permission would be an enormous transgression among his people. She would never be his. “It’s getting late.” She sighed at the setting sun and crept to the opening. “I should return home.” Her golden locks, framed in the entrance, glinted in the sun’s rays. So lovely, exactly as she’d been when he’d first glimpsed her, mistaking her for a goddess. Now, he knew. She might not be a celestial being, but

she was just as forbidden to him. “Lady Eione.” He shuffled forward on his knees, pleading her name and grasping for her hand. Agrius closed his fingers around hers, and there was no denying the truth. He was wrong to presume she might be his, yet nothing had ever felt so right as her slender hand wrapped in his. “Yes?” Agrius seized the back of her head and slanted her mouth to his, stealing her kiss like the wicked beast he was. She flung her arms around his neck and urged him on, kissing him with the ferocity of the huntress he’d encountered this morning. Her mouth fastened to his, tongues tangling in a duel neither would win. She was right. Though she might appear to be a delicate flower, and none had plucked her yet, she was in fact, a wild rose, whose thorns proved as sharp and fierce as her petals were fragile. Her full breasts plumped against his chest while she scrambled closer, their bodies melding and leaving nowhere for his erection to hide. As though determined to observe the proof of his passion, her hand shifted lower, skimming the front of his breeches and framing his aching length. Her panted gasp and following moan fired through his veins, demanding he stake his claim on her. Now. While she was so very pliant and willing. Eione’s hand rested against his sex, rubbing in a hesitant and inexperienced manner. Her body told her what she craved, even if she couldn’t name it yet. Oh, but she would. He would instruct her. Wrenching his mouth off hers, he clasped her wrist and gazed into her eyes. Wanting and, strangely, trust,

sparkled in those depths. Damn. What the hell was he thinking? He shouldn’t do this. Not with her, not like this. She was a mate. A creature to be cherished and worshipped. Among his people, the greatest and most sacred gift. One did not romp about in the hay with one’s mate. Nay. A respectable centaur offered her everything he possessed if she would but do him the honor of wedding him. He pledged his life, his possessions, his soul, to her. Any male who did anything less wouldn’t be worthy of the mud caking her boots. “Eione,” he panted, nudging her hand off his stiff shaft, the torment worse than a thousand arrows to his centaur heart. “You are the most desirable female my unworthy eyes have ever laid upon, and I cannot tell you how greatly it pains me to stop, but this isn’t right.” Her lower lip trembled and she drew the plump flesh into her mouth. He couldn’t bear to meet her stare, lest hatred for him burned within, but he gathered his courage, tucked his finger under her chin, and tilted her face toward his. Slowly, her lashes lifted. “You’re right, of course.” She blinked back what might be a tear and disengaged herself from his embrace. “You should be well enough to depart on the morrow. Please, go before the sun rises.” She scurried from the den, wrenching his human heart along with her.

ione fisted her hands in her skirts and dashed toward the

manor. Foolish girl. She shook her head, fighting tears. That male hadn’t crossed her path to rescue her from her fate. No one could. Not even a lusty centaur craved her innocence. She wasn’t worth the risk. The grey stone manor rose before her and she straightened her shoulders. Tomorrow, Agrius would be gone and with him, any chance to change the course of her future. No Lapith would dare defy her family. The only male who would ever touch her would be the one her family sold her to. She clenched and unclenched her fists, then straightened her skirts, and marched inside the manor, past the guards. “Ah, milady.” A brown-haired handmaiden curtseyed before her. “Your father and brothers have asked for you. They are in the Great Hall.” Inclining her head, she veered to the right, through the tapestry-lined stone walls of the corridor, and stepped into the Great Hall. Her elder brothers, father, and sister reclined around the large oak table. The twins cast her sinister smirks. Nileas and Myron were both tall, husky males with ashen hair and blue eyes like their father and sister. Eione’s other elder brother Antion and her younger brother Dryas resembled their mother, with violet eyes and golden hair. Platters of meats, cheeses, breads, and extravagant dishes stretched across the table’s surface, threatening to sink the top beneath their weight. She frowned at the table and directed her attention to her father, bobbing as she approached him. “Father.” “Ah, yes, child. Come closer. We have most agreeable news, have we not, Lavra?” He winked at her sister, who beamed and squeezed her hands in her lap like an

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anxious child about to open a delightful present. Eione shot her gaze between the two, her stomach dropping. Oh, no. Whatever was pleasant news to her sister would be an ill revelation to her. “We have at last secured a betrothal between your sister and…” He paused as though Eione would appreciate the anticipation. “Prince Philaeus, the only son and heir of the great King Pirithous III.” He clapped his hands together and chuckled. Ah. That wasn’t so terrible. Eione flashed her sister a smile. “Congratulations, Lavra.” “I’m going to be a Queen!” Lavra squealed. “Indeed.” Eione didn’t bother pointing out that Prince Philaeus was a disgusting, pompous scoundrel. “There’s more.” Her sister giggled. “Yes, Eione.” Her father nodded and the churning in her stomach amplified. “In addition to your sister’s betrothal, we have secured one for you. Prince Philaeus refused to wed without seeing his closest friend, Lord Adrastos, happy in matrimony as well.” No. No. Her nails cut into her palms as she clenched her fists at her sides. “If you recall,” her father rapped the top of the table with his knuckles, “he took a rather fond liking to you at the last ball we attended.” Ha. She remembered all too well the scrape of his filthy hands across her bottom and his slimy mouth that had just missed hers. Yet, he’d accosted many a maiden in the same manner and she’d hoped he’d pursue them instead. This was awful news. She squeezed her eyes shut, but her father’s words permeated her ears nonetheless. “You are to wed Lord Adrastos alongside your sister and Prince Philaeus. Wonderful, is it not?” Her father’s

booming tone jolted her and she dragged her eyes open. “Yes, Father.” She lowered her head in a reluctant bow and spun on her heel, storming through the halls toward her chamber. “Eione.” Her sister’s sharp reprimand drew her to a halt outside her chamber doors. “You will not ruin this for me. I am to be a Queen.” Her features bunched into a sneer. “You are twenty, sister. It’s not as though you have any other offers, or suitors.” She stared into Lavra’s eyes, so like her own, and yet felt no familiarity with this woman who sold herself for a crown. Instead of replying, she slipped inside her chamber. Her breaths pinched her chest, unable to fully inflate her lungs. This was wrong. This couldn’t be her destiny. A thud on her door whipped her around. The door slammed open and the twins, Nileas and Myron, strolled in. Nileas bore a small silver chest in his arms. He threw the box onto her bed, coins and jewels spilling across the rosy blankets. “Don’t even think about defying us, sister. You see that chest?” He jerked his chin at her bed and she pivoted toward the jewels, throat tightening. “That’s your dowry.” Myron smirked. “That is all you’re worth.”

CHAPTER 4

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grius tensed as someone approached the den, but his horse sniffed out the scent. Hers. Mine. “It’s me, Agrius,” Eione called before shuffling inside. He twisted the knob of the lamp, illuminating the earthen chamber. Her cheeks flushed pink, eyes burning bright. “Here.” She dropped a heavy sack onto his lap, the objects within clinking, and whirled to the opposite corner, extracting a flask. After unplugging the top, she gulped and the scent of rum permeated the air. “You might have shared the liquor, lass,” he grunted, pressing a hand against his wound. “Oh, yes.” She plugged the vessel and tossed it to him. He caught the flask mid-air and uncorked it, sniffing once before partaking deeply of the blissfully numbing liquid. Wiping the corner of his mouth with his sleeve, he grinned. “I thank you. Now, what is this?” He dug into the sack on his lap, removing a silver chest. “That,” she scoffed, “is all I’m worth.” He knitted his brows together. Beneath the fury in her

tone, he sensed resentment and hurt. “What do you mean?” “I always knew they would sell me.” She snorted. “I just foolishly believed I had more time.” Sell her? Rage sparked in his veins and he clenched his fists to conceal the tremors. His horse stomped. He didn’t want to hear this. “My sister will be Queen.” She snagged the vessel from him and chugged. “I am to be the gift of goodwill to the Prince’s wretched comrade. Lord Adrastos,” she sneered. “He couldn’t trap some other poor woman for a wife.” Panic rushed through his veins alongside the rage. His mate could not wed another. That would kill him. “I’ll be damned if I play into their plans.” She tugged a large saddlebag from the shelf and stuffed objects inside. Then she spun and tipped the flask toward him. He snared it from her grasp before she became too intoxicated to continue. “I’m leaving. And you, good sir, this chest is yours if you will guide me to your lands.” His heart rammed against his ribcage, but the elation mixed with trepidation and concern. He couldn’t steal away a Lapith noblewoman, no matter how much he wished to. The minute her family discovered her absence, they would retaliate against his. “Eione,” he shook his head, “your family will not release you. They’ll deem I’ve captured you and will demand your return.” “Yes.” She held up a finger to halt his protests. “But you’re assuming they know of your presence. Which they don’t. Besides, we’re not heading into centaur lands, or anywhere else they’d look for us.” “We’re not?”

“No. I may not be familiar with the area outside of my family’s lands, but I know how to conceal my trail. We’ll gather the waters for your brother first and, after, we’ll approach centaur territory from the north. No one will be searching for me there.” She cast him a victorious smile that shot straight to his groin. “I’ll finally be free.” He wrenched his admiration off her to contemplate the strategy. True, her family would presume she’d head for the nearest village, the closest borders. “I penned a note declaring my intentions to head south, and I made certain they will conclude I acted alone.” The glint of a blade flashed as she wielded the dagger toward her head. Toward those delicate golden locks. “Nay, Eione.” He leapt to his feet and stayed her hand. “Cutting off your locks wouldn’t disguise you well enough.” She arched a brow at him but nodded. “Fine, but I’ll dress as a man.” After tucking her blade into the waistband of her breeches, she deftly wove her hair into a thick plait. Tying the ends, she twisted toward him. “Once we’ve reached your lands, will you aid me? I can hunt, gather, farm. I’m as strong as any man and I’ll work twice as hard.” The earnest pleading in her pout struck at his heart, pinching it. He scowled at the notion of this lady forced to relinquish the comforts she was accustomed to. And at the idea that, once they returned to his lands, she would be anything but his wife. “Aye. I will aid you.” He slid his hand atop hers. “Are you certain this is the course you wish to choose? There will be no turning back. Once you have fled, you will become the hunted.” She lifted her lashes, determination sparking in her

eyes. “Yes.”

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grius inclined his head at her and hope filled Eione’s chest. The Fates had surely sent him to her. Would she have been brave enough to flee on her own? Perhaps yes, but with this formidable male at her side, any trepidation vanished. “Thank you.” Her focus dropped to his mouth and she bit her bottom lip. This poor male. She’d done nothing but hinder his own quest and, now, she placed his life and the lives of his family and people in danger. Whatever had driven him to kiss her before had surely retreated. She cleared her throat and seized a step back, tugging her hand from the warmth of his. “If you wouldn’t mind, I should still change. No one will be searching for two males in the woods.” “Indeed.” He strode to the far corner and faced the wall while she slipped into the hunting garments she kept stowed here. “Finished.” She flashed him a bright smile and continued packing her saddlebag. They’d expect her to steal a horse from her family’s stables and head along the town roads, perhaps escape to a cousin’s estate. Where she ventured, they would never predict. Eione stuffed the last of her supplies into her bag. Thankfully, she stored everything she required for survival in this den. She would hunt and gather their food along the journey. “You will be well enough to travel, will you not?” She cast a wary glance at his abdomen, then toward the base

of his neck which had flushed so hot earlier. “Aye, Agrotere.” He patted his wound. “I’ll be healed by tomorrow.” “We don’t have that long. We must go now.” “Then lead the way.” He swept his hand toward the entrance. She slung the saddlebag across her shoulders and crawled out of the den into the moonlit forest. Tilting her face in the direction of her family’s manor, she sighed. This would be the last time she’d ever step foot on her family’s lands. Her home. No more. Eione steeled her shoulders, gripped the strap of her bag, and marched into the woods. Mount Pelion lay north, so she steered them toward their destination, using the stars to guide her. In human form, Agrius kept pace behind her as they treaded through the forest in silence. Every half hour, she doubled back and erased their tracks. Finally, they came upon the stream bordering her family’s lands. “Once we step foot across this stream, I will have left my home. Forever.” She stared at the clear, rushing waters gleaming in the moonlight. Agrius pressed a hand onto her shoulder. “It’s not too late to turn back, but, Eione, you are the bravest woman I have ever met. If this is what you wish, you can do this.” She squeezed his hand atop her shoulder and stamped down any tears. Someday, her family might forgive her and mayhap she’d visit with them again. Until they realized they couldn’t force marriage upon her, she had no choice. “Thank you.” His kind words and support lent her courage. “I must do this.”

“Then you will not be alone.” He wrapped his arms around her and scooped her against his chest. She gasped and laughed as he transformed into a centaur and waded across the stream, bearing her in his arms so her boots wouldn’t get wet. Gallantly, he planted her feet on the other side. Agrius performed the morphos into human form again and together they faced a new land. He entwined his fingers with hers as they regarded the horizon. “We should hurry. The sun will rise in a few hours and your family will note your absence.” “Yes, you’re right.” Regretfully, she slipped her hand from his and trekked forward through the forest. At dawn, they paused by a flowing stream and Eione handed him a piece of bread. “Once we’ve gained enough distance, I’ll hunt and we can risk a fire.” Soon enough, she would be naught but a distant memory in her family’s dreams.

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grius chewed off a piece of the fowl Eione had hunted and regarded the fire he’d built and cooked it over. He hunted as well, but his skill didn’t compare to hers. Artemis had gifted the maiden a talent with the bow he’d never witnessed before. Whenever she strung her bow, a silver spark would flare from her hands and her arrow would fly, sure and true. They made a great pairing. These past few days, they’d traversed dense woods during daylight, made camp at night, and he’d thoroughly enjoyed every moment of her enchanting company. Once they’d passed her family’s lands, the tension

had eased, and they’d openly shared about their childhoods and their plans for the future. Though Eione continued to speak of finding work, he couldn’t bring himself to discuss the topic with much enthusiasm. Each second he spent with her proved his suspicions about being her mate, yet every discovery about her nature enticed him even more. Lapiths didn’t bond, not like the descendant creatures. They were a race of humans. Eione would not live as long as he. She would grow old and die long before he ever bore a grey hair or a wrinkle. Unless she agreed to be his mate. He scoffed at the foolish musing. She’d fled her home and family to avoid becoming someone’s wife. To even suggest she might be his could very well cause her to flee again. From me. No, it was far better to conceal the truth, to give Eione the freedom of choice she deserved. No matter how it might tear his heart from his chest. The fever from the lyssa had dissipated. Although a male centaur would suffer if left unbonded to his mate, much time would pass before Agrius succumbed to any form of madness. Right now, his greatest tasks were ensuring Eione’s safety and recovering these waters for Oreius. Protecting those closest to him must outweigh any desires he carried for himself. On a log across the fire from him, Eione stirred the flames with a long stick and poked at the dying embers, coaxing life back into them. Night had fallen once again, the stars sparkling across the darkened sky. At night, to battle temptation, he remained in his impotent centaur form and stood watch instead of joining her in bed. Tonight, though, the weather had shifted, and

the sudden chill would only grow worse once the fire died. He glanced at Eione, torn. The longing to wrap her in his arms as they slumbered pulsed through him, yet he didn’t quite trust his horse not to seduce her. “So, how do centaurs spend their evenings, when they’re not rescuing damsels from dastardly betrothals?” Mirth shone from her eyes, glittering like the stars above. Reclining on his log, he tipped the flask of rum to her. “We sing.” “Sing?” Leaning forward, she braced her elbows on her knees. “Do demonstrate.” “Aye?” He cocked a brow and took a swig for courage. “Yes, please.” Eione flashed him that smile he had no power to resist. Not when she’d bade him to pluck fruit from the highest boughs, not when she’d requested he shake out her sleeping furs so she wouldn’t stumble across any loathsome insects. Certainly not when she entreated him to sing. “Oh,” he rang out, bellowing into the woods. My Lady Eione My hearts are yours to win Beautiful, brave, and fair The sun sets in your hair The stars twinkle in your eyes The Moon is none less wise Oh, my Lady Eione My hearts are yours to w— An owl screeched above them, joining in his off-tune caterwauling. “Enough!” Eione clamped her hands over her ears, hunching from laughter. “That is the worst ballad I have

ever heard.” He clamped his hand above his heart and tumbled backward over the log, hooves stuck straight into the air, pretending to be wounded by her words. Lifting his head, he winked at the still-snickering lady. “Now, you see why I have no wife, no children.” “Indeed, that was enough to scare off any maiden within fifty miles. But I’m sure you have other…charms.” No mistaking the seductive twist to her words, or how she broke contact with his gaze, heat from more than the fire blossoming across her cheeks. Sighing, she stabbed her stick into the center of the flames, rose, and padded to his side. “I only have one set of sleeping furs and the nights are growing colder. We should share.” Her extended hand tempted him with an offer he couldn’t refuse. He switched into human form and seized her hand, following her to the pile of furs she’d laid out earlier. Agrius eased down and Eione curled alongside him, resting her head atop his chest. He draped his arm around her, tugging her close and pulling the furs around them. “Centaurs bear enormous warmth, so you’ll not grow cold this night.” She hummed and tilted her chin to smile at him. “You are delightfully warm.” This was surely a test. Those lush lips begged for his kiss and her eager responses last time suggested she would submit to whatever he demanded. But she was his mate. A maiden torn from her home. Vulnerable. She might find solace in any other male’s embrace as easily as she did his. He clenched his jaw, striving for control. For clarity of

thought. And for anything to tear him from this crippling temptation. “Agrius,” she murmured, her tone low and sultry. “I never apologized for shooting you.” Her fingers traced a hesitant circle across his abdomen, causing his muscles to jolt in warning. “Eione.” He snagged her fingers and laced them with his, edging them toward her body. “’Twas my fault. You needn’t suffer guilt.” “Perhaps not for that, but most likely for this.” She swung her leg across his waist and hopped to straddle him. Snaring hold of his shirt, she pressed her lips to his. His cock shot hard in an instant. Her soft lips ate hungrily at his mouth, bearing none of the hesitation from their first kiss. He groaned and surrendered to a fight he’d never had any chance of winning. Gliding his fingers through her locks, he tugged her mouth harder onto his. One kiss, only a kiss. He could satisfy them both with a kiss, could he not? She shifted, rocking her hips lower down his waist. Damn. He squeezed his fist and pounded it into the earth at his side, grappling for any semblance of restraint. Never had he kissed a maiden and lost his sanity. Never had he allowed the darker side of his nature to seduce him toward acts his reason would never condone. Every argument against him claiming her twisted through his mind, yet Eione had ensnared him. Her innocence was all that kept him from being inside her this very moment. She panted against his mouth and he wrenched his lips off hers, feathering them along the silken skin of her neck. He knew how this ended. Tomorrow, they’d awaken

and Eione would realize how foolish and destructive their actions had been. She would hate him. The truth sobered him enough to tear his lips off her neck and nudge her backward to regard her. Those flushed cheeks and glittering eyes resulted from his kiss, yet he took no pride in her aroused state. As his mate, she would experience great pleasure from his touch, but because they weren’t bonded, he had no right to her. He’d already stolen from her family—an act which could provoke a war. The right thing to do would be to seek his father’s council, and likely surrender his claim on her. Though unbearable, the truth was simple. She could not be his.

CHAPTER 5

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ione scanned Agrius’s face and spotted the resignation within the grim set of his features. Just like before, he was about to reject her. She scurried off his body, a new heat flushing her cheeks. How many times must she humiliate herself before accepting that this male did not hunger after her? Though he might appear to enjoy her company, their connection extended no further. “Agrotere, please don’t be angered.” His hand clasped her shoulder but she refused to face him. The ache in her core had made her nigh irrational in her lust for him. Yet he clearly didn’t suffer the same. She swallowed her tears and curled onto her side, squeezing her eyes to force herself to sleep. He sighed and released her shoulder. Soon, the whispers of the night forest lulled her to sleep. Eione awoke the next morning, alone. The embers of the fire emitted no glow. Damn the centaur for allowing their fire to die. Where is he? She scowled and slipped from the furs, her foul mood growing with each step while she scanned the ground for his trail. There. Leading

toward the stream. She marched through the trees, down a small embankment, and drew up short at a pile of clothes that dragged her perusal toward the water. Agrius stood in the waist-deep stream, scrubbing moss across his nude upper body. Her throat dried. The flexing of those brawny muscles displayed their potent strength. “Eione.” He twisted around, his shock narrowing into a glower. “You shouldn’t be here.” “Forgive my intrusion.” She stamped down any attraction blooming for this male and spun on her heel. “Please,” Agrius whispered, behind her. So swift. His fingers brushed her back, jolting her. “I have struggled to keep my distance from you, lass, because I desire you so bloody badly.” His rasped words rumbled beneath her skin. “Sweetling, I haven’t been truthful.” He braced both hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face away from him. “Lapiths do not bond, but centaurs do.” “What are you speaking of?” “Eione, you’re my mate.” Mate? She’d heard tales of the bonding, mostly from intoxicated nymphs. Their bawdy storytelling had seemed like jesting. Could this bonding be true? She frowned, twisting toward him. “I don’t understand what you mean.” “No, of course you wouldn’t.” He raked a hand through his damp hair. “The goddess Aphrodite bonds descendant species. Male and female pairs. It is an unbreakable union for the male. As a symbol of his undying devotion, he bears a mark—a black band around his upper left arm. She, in turn, experiences extreme pleasure at his touch.” Of course, she squinted at his arm. No mark. “You don’t—”

“Not yet,” he softened his tone, “because we aren’t mated.” “Mated?” She swallowed thickly, her throat tight. His eyes narrowed in pain. “I couldn’t ask you to choose me, a stranger, when you were fleeing from another male’s offer. You deserve a choice in this.” He scoffed and tossed his head. “That is why I will not kiss you, lass.” True, she’d only just met him, yet everything about this male mesmerized her. Because of the bonding? She tore her stare off him and faced the forest. He released her and the splashing of the water indicated he’d resumed his bathing. The Fates had destined her for this male. Incredulous, terrifying, and yet also, comforting. Her entire life, she’d feared becoming the wife of a heartless scoundrel. Agrius was not the male of her nightmares, he was the one of her dreams. Worthy, kind, as gentle as he was powerful. Yet, she’d only begun the fight for her freedom. Dare she relinquish it for him? Eione blew out her breath, long and slow. One truth sang out above the others. She risked nothing by pursuing this path with him. By surrendering to what just might be the future she’d always prayed for.

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grius froze as the splashing behind him neared. Eione. The rustling a moment ago indicated she’d stripped, and now, she stood behind him. Nude. The greatest temptation he’d ever faced.

Did this mean she’d chosen him? “Eione,” he growled her name in warning. Who knew what would happen if he unleashed his beastly side with her. Her slender hand skimmed along his back. “Tell me what being your mate means.” He lowered his head, focusing on the crisp water and not the raging stiffness in his shaft. “I would desire you and no other female. You, however, would be free to choose another, though it might kill me. And him.” He chuckled and she chimed a laugh. “You would have my undying devotion for the rest of my existence, and in turn, yours would also be much prolonged.” Another reason she might refuse him. He tensed, but she laughed again. “Sounds tempting.” “Does it?” Twisting toward her, he studied her face and no lower. “I would not force any decision upon you.” She arched a fine brow. “Agrius, my own family could not compel me to any of their whims. What makes you presume to wield such power?” Her lips curved as she shifted closer, murmuring into his ear, “How am I to make this choice without first sampling what you have to offer? Convince me, centaur, of this devotion you promise.” He whipped around, crushing her to his kiss. Eione moaned into his mouth, driving his wild nature further from his control. Her bare flesh was decadence in his arms, one hand sliding across her back, the other forward to close around one perfect breast. Her nude body presented too much glorious temptation and he didn’t possess nearly enough hands. The water slicked between them, his rigid length pressing up between their bodies. He glided his hand down to cup

her bottom, the other gently squeezing her delicate breast. Tearing his mouth off hers, he dipped his head and flicked his tongue across the pert peak. Her gasp provoked him to do it again while her fingers tangled in his hair and commanded him to continue. He should stop. Halt this madness. The yearning to seat himself inside her pulsed through his muscles, manipulating his body according to its own will. She tasted so damn sweet, stopping seemed akin to dying of starvation. He shouldn’t be sampling her. Or was it her sampling him? Either way, a mate should be claimed, in the proper manner, but he wouldn’t have the control to do so without first easing some of this excruciating pressure. He would satisfy them both without endangering the fragile bonding. Once their baser urges had been attended to, he’d be able to concentrate on the sacred ceremony. On ensuring Eione would perceive how truly cherished she would be. “Sweetling, I’m not going to take you, not here, not like this, but I am going to pleasure us both. Trust me?” he panted, resting his forehead against hers. “Yes.” At her murmured plea, he wrapped his fist around his width and bent to her, guiding his cock between her thighs, alongside that sweet entrance but not inside her. Then he grabbed her luscious bottom and grunted while he stroked himself across her silken flesh, rubbing his erection against her nub. The water ebbed between them, providing a sleek, slippery indulgence. He rocked his hips in a slow, sensuous rhythm, the glide of his length in and out from between her softness driving a feverish need through his ballocks. Her mouth sought his

and he flicked his tongue across hers, relishing in her honeyed taste. She mewled and gripped his shoulders tighter as he pounded harder. He could almost imagine he thrust inside her, and the utter bliss of having her at his mercy proved too much. He slipped a hand between them and rubbed her bud until her whimpers grew to airy cries and she dug her nails into his flesh. His frenzied release followed hers, his shaft jerking as it sputtered his seed between her thighs. She squeezed her legs around him, milking the last drops from his body and whimpering in his arms while the next climax seized her. As mates, his release on or in her would spark her own rapture. His scent perfumed her skin, his centaur nature exultant. A howl of triumph rumbled from his chest. Mine.

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ione wobbled while Agrius released her and steered her to the embankment. She’d never been nude in front of a male, but with him, she experienced no modesty. He’d devoured her as though no female had ever sated him so. To be the sole object of this male’s lust was a heady intoxication. Above everything, she trusted him. Centaurs could not be as savage as her brothers claimed, because Agrius wielded control over his beastly nature with exceptional restraint. Had she refused his offer, he would have kept his promise to guide her safely to his lands. Eione plucked her clothes from the ground and gathered them in her arms before facing Agrius. In the

water, she hadn’t been able to fully admire his nude form. Striding toward her, he was the most majestic vision she’d ever beheld. The wound from her arrow had indeed healed, the slight scar joining several others across the etched muscles of his front. She cast her approval across his wide shoulders, down that carved abdomen, to rest on the thick, jutting proof of his virility. A huntress raised among three elder brothers, she hadn’t been sheltered from the act of coupling, yet never had she witnessed even an ounce of the passion Agrius had unleashed upon her. Perhaps centaurs were simply better at lovemaking than other species. She bit the inside of her mouth as he approached her, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “As badly as I crave you in this moment, we shouldn’t dally here. When I claim you, I don’t want to be on the run. I need you to know you’ll always be safe with me.” “I agree.” She tilted her chin toward him. He bent and purred into her ear, “And when I claim you, you won’t be leaving my bed, not for days, weeks.” Heat flushed her body, fanning across her cheeks. He winked at her and gathered his clothes, then donned them. Steadying her breaths, she copied him, following after him up the embankment to their camp. She frowned once more at their expired fire and twisted to chide Agrius, but jerked back to scan the embers. No. The ashes had been stirred. A boot scuffled behind her and a thick arm lashed across her body. She squirmed, but the edge of a blade pressed against her throat. “Please, milady,” a gruff voice rasped. “Don’t

struggle.” Agrius’s wide, panicked gaze raked across her and landed on her assailant. She twitched her head slightly, begging him not to act, while she grasped for the knife at her belt. “Forgive me,” the male mumbled into her ear as the blade sliced across her throat and he shoved her to the ground. She struck the earth and blinked at the ground, wheezing. Agrius’s roar rumbled in her ears while scuffling echoed around her. Eione rolled over, prodding her throat. No warm, crimson liquid streamed between her fingers. Am I dead? She scrambled to her feet. The centaur had launched himself atop the other male, pounding his fist into his opponent. “Agrius, stop!” At her voice, he froze, gaping at her. “I’m fine.” She uttered the words, hoping they were true, and rubbed her throat. Her necklace was missing. The one from her mother. She never removed it. After scanning the camp, her focus landed on their attacker’s hand. Eione squinted at his familiar face—dusky features and a slight crook in his nose. “Abiron?” The middle-aged male led her brothers’ hunts. He’d taught her a few skills also. She’d considered him a friend, so why had he attacked her? “Please accept my apologies, milady,” he repeated, wheezing and holding up the necklace. “I wasn’t certain you’d part with it.” “Part with it?” “You know him?” Agrius released Abiron, stepping off the male’s body and aiding him to stand. “I feared you’d

killed her.” Abiron shook his head. “Your family is searching for you in the south, but I followed your trail. I found your den and read the clues. Centaur blood. The barren shelves. The hasty trail.” He pegged her with his dark stare. “If I could follow you, so could they. So I did. I had to be sure you’d gone off with this male of your own accord.” He rubbed his jaw and glared at Agrius. “I did.” Eione set her shoulders. “But why attack me, Abiron?” “Pray pardon the offense, milady. It wasn’t my best plan.” He chuckled and twisted the necklace in his hands. “I didn’t think you’d part with this and you startled me.” “I startled you?” She laughed. “Why do you need it?” “I erased your trail, but I must make certain they conclude you are somewhere else. I intended to pawn this off in Sepias.” A southern village. Tears stung her eyes at Abiron’s loyalty. She stepped forward and closed her hands around his. “Then it is yours. Thank you, my friend. I will repay you, someday.” He bowed his head. Eione withdrew the chest of silver from her saddlebag and added several coins to his palms. “Take care of everyone for me and know that, somehow, I will make things right.”

CHAPTER 6

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grius sprinted through the forest toward Mount Pelion, his hooves pounding the earth. After having been so easily caught by Abiron, he’d convinced Eione of their need for faster travel. This deep in the woods, his centaur form would be a lesser risk than their slow pace. She rode astride his back, her fingers linked around his waist. Her cheek pressed against his spine and her steady heartbeat rang in his ears. Under different circumstances, he would savor this moment. As it was, he rushed to their destination. Had he made the right decision? Should he have brought her safely home first, then sought the waters for his brother? The questions unsettled him, yet Eione insisted this might be their only chance to retrieve the cure for his brother. With her family scouring the borders, it would prove impossible to trespass again. Her caring nature warmed his heart. Lingering in Lapith country meant hazarding her future, yet Eione didn’t hesitate to take the risk to aid a male she’d never even met.

She was an exceptional female, and he would do everything to prove himself worthy of her. Agrius skidded to a halt in front of a narrow waterfall. This was the location the nymph had described. He sniffed the air, tensing for any threats. Eione slid from his back and he performed the morphos into a man. He grabbed her hand and guided them toward the cavern behind the waterfall. “Are you certain this is the place?” she whispered. “Aye, but whether this well truly exists, I have my doubts.” Reservations which grew greater with each passing second. Had he been a damned fool by listening to a nymph’s tales? Had his decision to help his brother grieve the loss of his mate put Agrius’s own mate at risk? He shook off his concerns and trudged forward into the cavern. The rush of the waterfall drowned out any other sounds, so he treaded cautiously forward. In the dim light, he discerned the wet stone walls, the rock floor. Ahead, a light beamed at the end of the corridor. Gripping Eione’s hand, he led her behind him, stepping into the opening. Blinking, he shielded his eyes with his forearm. In the middle of the expanse stretched a small meadow and in the center stood a stone well. At least the nymph hadn’t lied. Eione squeezed his hand and passed him a flask. He released her hand and strode to the well. The gleaming waters seemed like any other well’s. Yet, if legend bore truth, these waters could heal Oreius’s devastating grief. Agrius pulled the rope, hand over hand, raising the full bucket. Pausing, he frowned at the enchanted liquid. “Mayhap you should fill the flask, sweetling.” Who knew what would happen if he touched those waters. “Allow me.” After accepting the flask from him, she filled it and tucked the vessel inside her saddlebag.

“Well, I suggest we head home.” She bit the corner of her mouth, tugging that plump flesh inside. He tore his gaze off her, suppressing a groan. Hearing her speak of his home as hers flooded his horse with pride. “Aye, come, Eione, and let’s begin our future. Together.” Hands clasped, they trekked through the tunnel once more, out from behind the waterfall. Retrieving the waters was the easy part. Now, they must continue their journey through Lapith lands and cross the borders into his home in Thessaly. Without being detected. Once outside the waterfall, he switched into centaur form and Eione hopped onto his back. A few more days and he’d have her safe. Home. And in his bed.

F

our days later, Eione peeked past the branches and held her breath. Two sentinels paced their horses on this side of the Lapith border. The forest hid them, but a mile of barren meadow stretched before them. No trees to conceal their presence. She huffed in frustration. With luck, they’d manage to sneak past these guards. It made little sense for her family to hunt for her this extensively, yet they’d positioned sentinels along the entire stretch of borders. She shuddered to think what they would do to her, or Agrius, if they were captured. Eione held a finger to her lips as she guided Agrius several feet into the safety of the forest. “There are guards everywhere, searching for me.” “Nay.” His brows knitted together. “I fear they are not

entirely a result of your escape. Something more sinister brews.” A shiver slithered down her spine. He was right. The guards may be looking for her, but one betrothal wasn’t worth this effort. Her hand was insignificant compared to her sister’s. “Come.” He led her deeper into the forest. “We’ll wait until cover of dark and make our attempt then. In my centaur form, they’ll stand little chance of catching us.” She swallowed her concerns. Fire was too much of a risk, so they huddled together on the forest floor. Agrius’s immense warmth soothed the chill from her bones and she entwined her fingers with his as they awaited the setting of the sun. Finally, the last rays vanished, darkness settling over them. No moon this night, only clouds, which would aid their cause. “It’s time.” He helped her to her feet and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. “Once we cross the border, you’ll be safe forever.” His thumb brushed across her cheek. “Then, I’ll make you mine.” His wickedly low chuckle sent quivers through her body. She rose on her toes and murmured against his lips, “Perhaps, once we cross the border, centaur, I’ll make you mine.” She squirmed from him before he snared her in his arms, and they spent the night pursuing ambitions other than freedom. Together, they crept to the tree line. The two guards continued to pace to either end of their perimeters, switching and meeting in the middle to carry on in opposite directions. Before them, centaur lands stretched. Wild, free, and so close she could almost grasp them.

Her blood pulsed in a thudding rhythm, the anticipation burning through her. Yet she steadied her breaths as she did before loosing an arrow. The guards met in the middle, each pacing atop their steeds to the opposite boundary. As they neared their bounds, Eione and Agrius stole forward, creeping down the grass embankment into the meadow. He seized her hand and tossed her atop his back, bolting forth from the cover of the bushes. Silently, he galloped across the boundary, his hooves barely crushing the tall grass. Eione held her breath. So close. “Halt!” one of the guards barked. She tensed, clutching Agrius’s waist and praying they’d gained enough distance. “Almost there.” He patted her hand, hooves tearing up the ground. The edge of the meadow rose before them and hope sprang into her chest. Just make it to the tree line. Great Artemis, please aid us— Agrius howled, collapsing to his knees and sending her tumbling over his side. Oomph! She crashed into the ground ahead of him, a few feet from the trees. The air knocked from her lungs, she wheezed. “Agrius!” She scrambled around, scanning behind her. His hand shot out toward her, not reaching, but urging her away from him. “Go, Eione. To the trees. Run!” He staggered to his feet as dozens of soldiers charged them. She wavered, glancing between the trees offering freedom and the men closing in on her mate. “Run, Eione,” he barked at her, one last time before

facing his opponents, gripping a blade in his hands. Oh gods. She couldn’t make this choice. He was too far away to make it to the trees with her, yet if she joined him, they would kill him. “Drop your weapon,” she shouted. “Don’t fight them.” He gaped over his shoulder at her, eyes wide, but lowered his blade to the ground and raised both hands above his head in surrender. “Go, lass,” he growled as the first soldier approached him and delivered a savage blow to his side, knocking him to the ground. She bit her tongue to keep from crying out and bolted for the forest. He was safe, for the moment, and so was she. Now, she had to find a way to rescue her centaur. Or die trying.

A

grius grimaced as one guard yanked his head by the hair, wrenching his gaze to the lead soldier. “Where is the Lady Eione headed, centaur scum?” the leader growled, crossing his arms. Damn, they had identified her. Glaring at them, Agrius held his tongue. Eione would be safe so long as he disclosed nothing. That was all that mattered. She was all that mattered. Let these Lapith bastards do to him what they would. “Don’t feel like talking, centaur?” the leader jeered. “We’ll loosen your tongue.” He waved toward one guard. “Bring him to the command post.” Agrius grunted and stumbled forward while they lugged him toward a cabin about a mile away. They

tossed him into a corner room, hands and legs bound. The arrow they loosed had pierced him and remained pinned inside his right hind leg, crippling him. He hung his head. They’d been so close. Bloody hell. They should have scouted better, then they would’ve detected the long-range archers. Not that anything short of armor would have aided them. Eione is safe, he chanted in his mind, the words lending him comfort. His brothers would care for her. They’d scent him on her and know she was his. He’d counted at least a dozen guards surrounding the cabin. Mayhap once they pulled this arrow from his leg, he’d no longer be lame and he could fight them. The door cracked open and a Lapith male sauntered inside, cracking his knuckles. “Now, centaur, you’re going to talk.” He removed a cloth bundle from his side and set it upon the table, metal instruments glinting in the dim light. Agrius squinted. Tools, for making horseshoes. Torture. He winced. The man spun, wielding a hammer and a nail puller. Ignoring the instruments of torture, Agrius lifted his chin. These men seemed not to have realized one very important fact. No one broke a centaur.

E

ione paced the forest toward the outpost, murmuring prayers to Artemis. She had to rescue Agrius, but how? Ought she to race to his brothers and recruit them? She still carried the chest of coins. Could she hire

mercenaries? No, no. Each option wasted precious time. Her father’s men would undoubtedly torture Agrius. Likely were at this very moment. Dropping her head into her hands, she fought back tears. They’d dragged him to an outpost. Perhaps she could create a diversion and draw the soldiers out. She carried a full quiver of arrows and, thanks to her gift from Artemis, possessed seamless aim. There couldn’t be more than two dozen men. It might work. She might fail, too. They’d both die. The notion of Agrius’s death cut into her, pain lancing her chest. Groaning, she sank to her knees. From the forest to her right, a rumble mirrored her groan. Eione froze, glancing in that direction from the corner of her eye. Gleaming orbs glittered from the trees, a low grunting rolling through the forest. More than one. She dared a glimpse and gaped at the two dozen beasts trampling through the woods. Their ivory tusks gleamed in the moonlight, the points sharp as knives— and the feral glint in their eyes intent on proving it. They ignored her, trudging past as though she were but a rock in their flowing river, and headed straight for the outpost. Sweet Artemis. She clapped a trembling hand over her mouth, uttering a silent prayer of thanks to the goddess. Wild boar were sacred to her and she must have sent them in answer to Eione’s pleading. The beasts were nearly as large as she, and those spiked tusks could tear a man in half. They squealed as they passed the forest line, charging toward the outpost. Eione waited, stringing her bow.

Shouts arose from the enemy camp while the boars attacked, goring their victims. She sprinted to keep pace with the tail end of the group, hiding amongst the beasts and breaking free once they neared the cabin. After dashing to the side, she pressed her spine against the logs and scanned to ensure no one had spotted her. Guards scattered, their screams rending the air. She stole along the side of the cabin and peered around the corner to the door. One guard remained at his post, loosing arrows at the boars. She aimed her bow and released the arrow. It sailed straight into the guard’s chest and he collapsed to the ground. Eione strapped her bow over her shoulder and withdrew her blade instead, stealing inside the cabin. Darkness enclosed the chamber. No sounds of movement. Oh gods. She could not be too late. “Agrius?” she whispered into the empty space. Grunting and scuffling thumped from behind the door of the far room. She snatched a sword from off the table and smashed the lock, kicking the door open. “Eione?” Agrius’s pained whisper called from inside. “Yes, it’s me.” She darted forward and crashed straight into his arms. “Argh.” He groaned and she pulled back. “Are you injured?” “Nay, I’ll be well now that this arrow is out of my leg.” He held up the arrow, dripping blood. “You shouldn’t have come. Now, we’re both dead.” “No, shh.” After pressing a finger to his lips, she tore a strip of cloth from her shirt and wrapped it around his leg. “We’re both getting out of here alive.” She tsked at his wound and winked at him. “My wicked centaur, how many times do you have to be shot before you’ve learned

your lesson about trespassing?”

CHAPTER 7

A

grius blinked at Eione in dazed confusion. His head spun from the pain of plucking the arrow. The moment screams had sounded from outside the camp, he’d made use of the distraction to charge his captor, impaling him onto the table of torture instruments. “Apparently twice, but I’ve a thick skull.” He grinned, crushing her into his arms. “Pray tell, what’s happening outside?” “What do you think? I’ve saved your hide.” She smirked at him. “You saved me?” His heart thumped inside his chest, swelling with affection for this dazzling female. He stared at those full pink lips and couldn’t stop himself from sampling them. She moaned beneath his kiss, but pushed back. “We must hurry. I’m not sure how long the boars will hold them off.” “Boars?” He arched a brow, but she clucked, urging him from the cabin. “Long story. I’ll explain later.” “Right.” No need to convince him. He scooped Eione onto his back and sprinted from the cabin, through the

meadow. Toward home. They cleared the tree line marking the centaur border. Agrius slipped Eione off his back, shaking his head in disbelief and elation. He squeezed her to his chest, pressing a firm kiss to the top of her head. Her sweetly scented locks drove his horse into a frenzy, reminding him they weren’t home, not yet. He claimed her lips once, for that was all he dared, and planted her on his back again, galloping forward. “So, boars?” “Yes,” she hummed against his ear. “Artemis sent them to me. She must approve of our match.” “Artemis?” He stumbled to a halt and twisted around, frowning. Eione shrugged but cast him a mischievous smile. “First, she granted me my gift, and now, because of my allegiance to her, she has saved us both.” “Aye.” He scratched his jaw. “Mayhap.” Eione kicked her feet into his sides. “Take me home, Agrius.” “Happily, Agrotere.” He winked at her and galloped through the forest. Each of King Cheiron’s five sons ruled over a stretch of land surrounding the King’s palace in Great Meteoron. Agrius’s castle of South Glen lay seated atop the southernmost Meteora. In his centaur form, the journey took merely a couple of hours. Before the dawn broke, he dashed onto his lands, galloping straight to the Portal that would transport them to the castle at the top of the Meteora. “Welcome home, Lady Eione.” She slid off him and he grabbed her hand, squeezing. He nodded at the guards standing post and led her into the Portal. The gateway shimmered and swept them

upward. Eione wobbled for an instant, until he steadied her. “Never been through a Portal?” “No.” She groaned, clasping her head in her hands. He rubbed her shoulders while she regained her composure. His housekeeper, a Lapith maiden, rushed toward them, curtseying. “Welcome home, milord.” “Thank you, Agava. Will you please show Lady Eione to a guest chamber?” He unclenched his fist at his side. His horse wanted nothing more than to toss her over his back again and cart her off to his bed, but his mate would likely prefer the opportunity to bathe and freshen herself from their exhausting journey. Agava ushered Eione away. He stared after her, memories of bathing in the river together heating his flesh. Tempering his beastly nature, he strode to his chamber, peeled off his dusty clothes, and snatched a cloth from the basin to wash. After bathing, he poured a glass of brandy and sank into the armchair beside the blazing hearth. The warmth from the flickering flames soothed his nerves. He rubbed his chin. If he claimed Eione as his mate, his family would stand behind him. Doing so would also place them in danger. Yet, the Lapiths positioned armed men along their borders, suggesting a sinister cloud on the horizon. His mate was worth every risk. The moment she’d stormed inside the cabin, a fearless and capable beauty bold enough to rescue him from a slow, tortuous death, he’d known. Eione meant so much more to him than the bonding could ever encompass. She was the perfect pairing of his heart and soul.

One thing was certain. King Cheiron must be informed of this new development. After Agrius returned from the meeting, what would happen next? He scratched his jaw and grinned into the flames. Well, perhaps his mate would have something to say about that.

E

ione paced the length of the quaint chamber where she’d bathed and dressed. The housekeeper, Agava had been sweet and polite, and full of praise for her master. The female had been born in Lapith lands, but her family had moved to centaur territory when she’d been younger. According to the girl, the practice was not uncommon. The centaur lords had a reputation for being far more just than their Lapith counterparts. In her village, the girl claimed, no one starved. How different and wonderful. Yet, no matter where she lived, Eione would never forget her subjects. She’d determine a way to send them aid, somehow. Wringing her fingers, she stepped to the window and glanced out at the rising sun. The majestic castle grounds a thousand feet below caught her breath. The estate rose above a misty line of clouds. Below her, exotic gardens stretched to the stone walls, wound into an intricate maze. Agrius had declared his intentions to make her his mate, but would she also become his wife? Dare she trust her future in the hands of someone who remained, in many ways, a stranger to her?

These people, their customs, were foreign to her. While they seemed welcoming, she missed her family. Her brothers Antion and Dryas. Like her, they hadn’t yet been tainted by their father’s corruption. What would happen to them? Would they view her escape as abandonment? Betrayal? She scanned the blushing horizon for answers. Artemis had guided her along this path, had saved both her and Agrius’s lives. Have faith. The moment Agrius had urged her to escape capture in that meadow, he’d convinced her of his worth. But it was the instant she’d glimpsed him in that back room, alive and not dead, that her heart had made its choice. I want him. A tap rapped against the door. She stiffened as it opened, Agrius striding inside and closing the door behind him. “I trust Agava tended to you?” “Yes, thank you.” She linked her hands behind her back and faced him. Her heart pounded inside her chest; she longed to run into his arms, yet now that they were safe, uncertainties crept into her mind. What if he no longer felt as he’d declared earlier? What if he’d changed his mind, determining her to be too great a risk? “Eione,” he purred, stalking forward. He seized her about the waist, drew her close, and slanted his mouth across hers. An unhurried kiss that ended far too soon, with him sighing and resting his forehead against hers. “As much as I hunger for you, sweetling, I think it best we take this slowly. You should rest and I must inform my father of our situation.” She stiffened, those concerns rising and pinching her

chest. “Have you changed your mind? You said I am your mate, but you had no choice in this either. I will free you from any obligation, if that is what you wish.” “What I wish?” He snorted, chuckling. “Eione, darling, I couldn’t be more elated to have you as my mate. Yet the choice must also be yours. We’ve been running for our lives for weeks.” He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be right of me to force our bonding on you until you’ve had a chance to clear your head and choose…me.” “Oh, Agrius.” She caressed his cheek with her hand. “I have chosen you, don’t you see? From the moment I decided to save your life, I knew you would change mine.” “For the better, I hope.” He winked. “For the best.” She laughed. “Make no mistake, this is my decision and I choose you. But you are right. Consult with your father, and when you return, I will be here,” she trailed the tip of one finger down the middle of his chest, “waiting for you.”

A

grius had to pry his hands from Eione and depart his castle, his legs trudging forward, begrudging each step. Protocol required he treat his mate with the utmost respect, fulfilling her every whim, and never forcing his attentions on her, but damn. He scraped a hand down the side of his face, then rolled his shoulders. Preventing his horse from tossing her over his shoulder and carting her off to his bed demanded every ounce of his restraint. It drove him to the edge that she seemed more than willing.

His left bicep burned and ached, the lyssa hovering above him like a threatening cloud. He would weather this storm, as he had so many others, for Eione was the calm beauty in its wake. In his centaur form, the journey to his father’s castle on Great Meteoron took but a mere couple of hours. Enough time to clear his head and his heart. How could Eione even muse he wouldn’t desire her for a mate? She was everything he’d never dreamed of. Brave, fierce, kind, compassionate, and possessing a wicked humor that would surely drive his horse to blissful madness. He strode through the village below Great Meteoron and climbed the circling path to the Portal. Seated atop vast, alabaster cliffs, the palace was the largest of the six centaur castles in Thessaly. Its grandeur never failed to inspire awe in Agrius, and to remind him of his mother, Queen Atalante. She’d been one of the rare Kentaurides —female centaurs—her horse half as pale and brilliant as these cliffs. He’d lost his mother and his brother Thereus; he’d not lose Oreius as well. Though Cheiron also suffered the loss of his mate, he’d made peace with his grief. Agrius patted the flask in his pocket. He’d sent word to Oreius to meet him. On the other side of the Portal, Agrius marched into his father’s Great Hall, bowing before his wise sire. “Father.” “Agrius.” Seated upon his ivory throne, the pearlflanked centaur King inclined his head, waving for Agrius to rise. “What news have you brought us, son?” Hector, Cheiron’s heir and a blue dun, stood stoically at his side, dipping his head toward Agrius in greeting. “Ill news, I’m afraid.” He stepped forward and unwound the scroll map he carried. “I have recently

uncovered Lapith guards along our borders. Armed sentinels, Father, who disregard the treaties. When I attempted to cross the border into our lands, they shot me and would have tortured and killed me had I not escaped.” “Shot you?” Hector frowned at him, stamping one hoof. “Father, we cannot allow their actions to—” “Enough, Hector.” Cheiron held up a hand against his brother’s concerns and studied Agrius. “Why did you cross the border without my permission?” “I, ah…” He scratched his jaw and cleared his throat. “I retrieved sacred waters for Oreius.” “What waters?” Oreius marched into the chamber, scowling in his usual brooding manner. The silver dapple had rarely cracked a smile since the death of his mate, Sarra. Agrius withdrew the vessel from his vest pocket. “A nymph told me these waters will cure your grief.” He bowed his head, extending his arms and offering the flask balanced upon both palms. “I have no need for a cure,” Oreius sneered. “My mate is dead. How dare you to even—” He whipped his head, cutting off his objections. “Oreius, my son, your brother is concerned for you,” Cheiron murmured gently. “As are we all. Accept the gift he risked so much to retrieve and consider the offer.” Muttering under his breath, he plucked the flask from Agrius’s grasp. “Very well, but I shan’t have use for it.” As much thanks as he’d anticipated. Agrius nodded at his brother, then faced his father. “I did not cross the border alone. Along my journey, I encountered a maiden. A Lapith noblewoman, the daughter of Lord Macareus. She mistook me for a stag and shot me, but then healed me. Her family arranged a betrothal she did not wish for,

so I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. His father might very well command him to restore Eione to her family. “I aided her escape.” “Agrius.” Cheiron tsked. “Where is the lass?” “At my castle.” He expelled a deep exhalation. “Father, she refuses to return to her lands, and I would…” “Yes?” Hector stomped a hoof impatiently. Agrius dropped his hand. “I would wed her. She’s my mate.” “Mate?” Oreius scoffed. “Yes.” He cast his brother an apologetic glance. “We have not bonded yet, for I wish to have your blessing first, Father.” “These are dangerous actions, indeed, Agrius.” Cheiron scratched his jaw. “There is no denying the sacred bonding. We must honor your horse’s choice of mate; therefore, I extend to you my blessing.” “You do?” That had been far easier than he’d expected. Cheiron released a long sigh. “I would have demanded you seek her family’s acquiescence first, but your reports have confirmed my own. The Lapiths guard their borders in opposition to our treaties. I fear, while your stealing a bride might once have been viewed as an act of war, that time may have already passed. Rumors spread of King Pirithous’s illness, and his son, Philaeus, does not follow in his stead. Your actions are but one more stone atop the grave of our peace.” Cheiron placed a hand on Agrius’s shoulder. “Go, my son, and claim your bride. Pray this ominous storm of war may pass over us.”

CHAPTER 8

E

ione spent the entire day exploring South Glen. From the castle windows, lush forests and rolling hillsides stretched to the horizon. The castle itself had been fashioned of sturdy grey stones, the corridors draped in rich tapestries similar to those in her family’s home. Yet these cloths illustrated centaur legends, depicting great heroes and tales of enlightenment. None resembled the barbaric scenes displayed in her family’s manor. Agrius’s library contained hundreds of manuscripts and scrolls, each exhibited with pride as though treasured. His staff was courteous and polite, and seemed content, especially to have their master returned. Quite the opposite of her household’s servants, who scurried through the halls, fearfully avoiding their masters. This is how home should be. She smiled to herself as she strolled through the maze in the gardens. Earlier, she’d penned a lengthy letter to her father, only to have tossed the parchment into the blazing hearth. There was no forgiveness to be had for choosing this life. Her heart ached for her brothers Antion and Dryas,

who would grow as cruel as the twins without her presence. Perhaps Agrius might aid her in finding a solution. Her musings veered to him, to those gentle pewter eyes and the wicked curve of his smile. She had no doubt the Fates wove their paths together. These past two weeks, she’d witnessed everything in him a woman could desire in her husband. My mate. She bit her lip, grinning like a madwoman. Nothing could halt this budding blossom of love between them. Tonight, she’d ensure her dashing centaur fathomed precisely how devoted a wife she would be to him. “Stay within our view, milady,” one of the guards called to her as she passed through the garden gates onto the estate below. “Lord Agrius left orders you were not to wander outside the grounds alone until he returned.” She inclined her head toward them. “Very well. I’ll stay within view.” True, she longed to ride through the forests, hunting and gathering, exploring this new world, yet Agrius’s caution was warranted. A new territory meant new boundaries to learn and even new vegetation. She’d benefit from the aid of a guide. Eione paced along the stone path toward the edge of the woods. The dusky glimmer of sunset pitched long shadows throughout the trees. She halted and inhaled, the earthy, rich scents of black pines and chestnut trees filling her nostrils. The forest stretched beyond her view, peaceful and quiet, an oasis. Yet she no longer suffered the urge to flee. To seek solace. This was her home. Her true home. She climbed the slight slope, the forest floor of

crushed needles, packed earth, and moss cushioning her footsteps. Twisting around, she waved at the sentinels, ensuring she remained within their view. They bowed their heads, keeping their focus on her. No one had ever guarded her for the purpose of her safety before. It was an unfamiliar, yet enjoyable feeling, to know these men would protect her. That Agrius would protect her. Twigs snapped in the distance, followed by the thwack of rocks clinking together. Had an animal lost its footing on the side of a slope? Odd. She treaded forward, a few steps beyond the view of the guards, to inspect the origin of the sounds. Perhaps a hunter? Although, wouldn’t the guards have warned her? The hairs on her arms raised. Something wasn’t right. Animals didn’t make such clumsy noises. Humans did. Eione whirled around and gasped at the hazy form of a male. She grasped for her bow, but the male aimed the point of his dagger at her. “Don’t.” Cold sweat beaded along her spine. She knew that voice. “Myron?” My brother. One of the twins. He stalked forward, the shadows playing across his face and casting a sinister aura around him. This was not the time to succumb to fear. She straightened her shoulders. “You’ve encroached upon centaur lands. All I need do is scream and a dozen guards will surround us.” “Mayhap, but you won’t,” Myron sneered. “You’re too soft, Eione. You’ll return to your home and do as you’re told.” He waved the dagger. “You will not disgrace us. You’ll wed the Prince’s comrade and honor your family.

We’ll overlook this incident. Attribute it to the beast poisoning your mind. A weak, easily manipulated female stolen from her family’s protection.” Bile rose in her throat. Being related to this barbaric male disgusted her. She’d never go back with him. Stall him. Keep him talking. Time enough to form a plan. The guards would seek her out any moment. “How did you find me?” “I followed Abiron.” He smirked. “I found it odd that our best tracker chose not to pursue the most obvious trail, and I was right. The traitor will be hanged.” No. She clasped her hand around her neck, but swallowed her protest. If she convinced her brother she’d return with him, he would ease his offensive stance, and she could strike. “Very well, I will—” “Eione!” a male shouted from the direction of the castle. Agrius. They both whirled toward the thudding of hooves. Myron switched his target from her and aimed his dagger at the entrance to the woods. She lifted a brow and suppressed a laugh at how foolishly he’d left himself undefended. He’d soon learn— she was the huntress. He, the hunted. Deftly, Eione shifted her bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed it at Myron. “Not so fast,” she snapped. Myron twisted to her, his eyes widening, then narrowing into hard slits. “Shall we determine who possesses the faster arm?” Agrius crashed through the forest, skidding to a halt. “Eione,” he breathed. Her name on his lips resounded in her ears, and she knew. Many things about Agrius might be unfamiliar to her, but his soul was not.

He was her destiny. Mine. To her left, she glimpsed him, her magnificent, wicked centaur, but dared not peel her aim off her brother. “Actually, Agrius is the fastest. Morphos.” Hands flaring silver, she loosed the arrow at her brother just as the dagger struck the tree behind Agrius, embedding into the bark. In human form, he crouched beneath the blade. Her aim was better. Her arrow snagged in Myron’s shoulder, thrusting him to the ground. Agrius rushed to his side, transforming into a centaur and planting a hoof on Myron’s chest while Eione closed the distance. Her mate’s concerned stare skimmed over her, but she inclined her head. “I am well.” Myron screeched and spat at her as she tore a strip off his shirt, wrapping it around the arrow to secure his wound. “And he will live.” “I’m not so certain about that.” A tic pulsed in Agrius’s jaw. “He attempted to kill the son of Cheiron. My father would—” “No.” Eione shook her head. “He will be escorted to the border and his life will be traded for Abiron’s.” “Abiron?” She clenched her fists. “They know he helped us and they’ll hang him unless we deliver something they prize more than their bloodlust.” “Aye, you are right.” Agrius bent, placing greater pressure on Myron’s chest, and grated to the wheezing male, “Should you ever step foot on my lands again, I’ll slice one piece off your body each day for a year and feed you to my dogs.” Fury blazed in Myron’s glower, but Agrius seemed to ignore it, hauling her brother to his feet and escorting him to the guards.

Eione followed, frowning as the guards dragged Myron away. Agrius strode to her and swept her into his embrace, crushing her against his chest. “My beautiful, brave Eione.” Unclenching her fists, she released a shuddering breath. She was glad Myron had accosted her in the woods. Now, she knew no other threats chased them. They’d trade his life for Abiron’s and all would be well. “Eione.” Agrius’s rich timbre sent shivers cascading beneath her skin. He swung her in his brawny arms, spinning her in a circle before placing her on her feet and claiming her mouth. Moaning contentedly, she drew back, smiling at him. “How was your meeting?” “Excellent.” He flashed her a devious grin. “We have my Father’s blessing and Oreius has the flask.” His father’s blessing. “Wonderful.” Joy tingled down to her toes, but halted at Agrius’s second revelation. “Will he use it?” He shrugged. “I know not, but the burden is relieved from my shoulders. We have done all we can for my brother.” “You’re a good man.” She brushed her fingers along his cheek. He entwined his fingers with hers. “My family has accepted you, and I crave nothing more than to claim you as my mate, but I must ask, and you must answer me truthfully, with no doubts in your heart.” Squeezing her hand, he perused her eyes, those depths so earnest and sincere. “Eione, will you bond with me and become my wife and mate?” Joy enclosed her heart and she rose on the tips of her toes to whisper against his mouth, “Yes, Agrius. I am

yours.”

A

grius couldn’t hold back the growl rumbling in his chest at Eione’s declaration. Three hundred years he’d lived with the certainty he’d never take

a mate. In truth, he’d been waiting for her. For Eione. The castle grounds were hardly the place to claim his mate. Though his staff would undoubtedly enjoy the entertainment. At last, he allowed his horse to follow his instincts, and he scooped Eione into his arms, carrying her to his chamber. Dusk had fallen, the pink and orange glow from the setting sun casting beaming rays across the room. He set her in the middle, curled his finger beneath her chin, and tilted her face to his. Trust and affection reflected in her eyes and his chest inflated. This beauty had chosen him. Mine. He withdrew a blade from his belt and lifted it between them. Her eyes flashed with uncertainty. “Easy lass, the blade is for me.” The wary spark switched to confusion, so he explained, “During the bonding ceremony, you will slice across my arm, along the bonding mark, and place your claim on me.” She nodded. “I can do that.” “After, we shall be mated. I will cherish you for the rest of my days, until both of my hearts stop beating.”

“Well, I’d best not loose any arrows into them again, then.” She flashed him a devastating smile. He chuckled and crouched to set the blade on the wooden floor. “I’ve never unleashed my beastly side with anyone.” His nerves fired, sending a tremor through his hands. He so badly wished to please her. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “I trust you. I choose you, Agrius, centaur and man.” As he rose, her hands slid down his chest to the belt at his waist. “Don’t make me regret my choice, centaur.” “Aye, lass, you will not.” Agrius groaned while she loosened his breeches, the garment falling around his knees. He stepped out of them, unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it from his shoulders. Patiently, he stood before her, nude, allowing her to explore him. Her hands glided across his abdomen, up to span his shoulders, and down his back, returning to his front. He allowed her exploration because, soon, he’d unleash the passion of his wild nature upon her, and in that moment, there’d be no gentle caresses or leisurely kisses. Once he claimed her, she’d be at his mercy. “You are so beautiful,” she hummed, airy. “Nay, sweetling, ’tis you who steals my breath.” He closed the distance between them and loosened the stays of her bodice, baring the creamy skin of her shoulder. As he feathered his lips across her silken flesh, her muscles quivered beneath his kisses. “How did you know Myron’s blade would miss me if I performed the morphos?” She laughed. “He’s a poor shot; he’d aim for the

largest target on your body, your centaur flank.” “Ah, not unlike some wench I know.” She punched his arm. “You’re lucky you have two hearts and I had only one arrow.” “Nay, lass,” he murmured against her shoulder, “I am fairly certain you pierced both of my hearts that day.” He braced his forehead to hers. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, not to your family, not to anyone. You are so much more than my mate. My cherished companion, my perfect match. I love you, Eione.” Her lips parted and tears sparkled in her eyes. “And I love you, Agrius.” He crushed his mouth to hers, claiming her body and stealing her breaths. His greedy hands ripped away her clothes, baring her to the moonlight. Tonight, they were far more than a centaur and a Lapith. Their love transcended their worlds, uniting them. Two souls born to separate races and destined to become one. She shivered, yet he sensed, not from modesty. Her hands were as demanding as his, roaming his body in possessive hunger. He turned her around, her back to his chest, and they fell to their knees. He held her right hand in his and they positioned his tip at her entrance. Together. As one, they guided his cock inside her, him gently thrusting his hips forward and her easing her thighs apart to welcome him. She was tight and untried, but he coaxed her nub with his left hand, and she relaxed, allowing him to drive deeper and break through her barrier. Inch by succulent inch, he claimed her, bonding not only their bodies, but their souls.

“Eione,” he groaned as he sank inside her, burying himself in that velvety softness. A band of fire flamed across his upper left bicep, demanding to be quenched. Soon. He nipped tender bites along her shoulder and stroked his fingers across her bud. Agrius shifted backward on his heels and she settled into his lap, their bodies joined while she adjusted to the size of him. Her tight sheath clamped around him and his control threatened to snap. Yet he gritted his teeth and forced his body still. If she’d been anything but an innocent maiden, he wouldn’t have been able to restrain the wildness of his urges. Heaviness brimmed in his ballocks, the instinct to spill his seed inside her undeniable. “Now, Eione.” He seized her right hand and placed the dagger’s handle into her palm. “Cut me and make your mark on me, sweet Agrotere.” Her breath shuddered from her body, but Eione was no stranger to a blade. She slashed the edge across his upper left arm and he howled in ecstasy. Not pain, but soothing relief flooded his body and his hips jerked backward, driving forward to slam into her core while his essence burst from his body in unsteady jolts of rapturous bliss. She cried an airy pant of pleasure, her sex fisting around him and her body rocking against his. Chests heaving and bodies slick, the scent of their union mingled in the air. The raw passion of their mating drained their bodies of strength and they collapsed to their sides together, still joined. Agrius thrust his hips against hers, driving deeper, not yet ready to relinquish this euphoria. Eione was his bonded mate, and everything was right

in the world. He swept a damp lock from her neck and pressed a kiss to her feverish skin, nuzzling the spot between her neck and shoulder. “Mine.” She wriggled her hips, pressing her lush bottom against him. “Mine.” His shaft stirred, not yet sated. With Eione as his mate, he doubted any part of him ever would be again.

E

ione struggled to catch her breath, but Agrius stirred, his hips rolling into hers. The centaur hadn’t yet had his fill. Moaning, she twisted in his arms and, keeping them connected, draped her leg over his so they faced each other. She traced the hard edge of his jaw with her fingertip and switched her inspection to his arm, trailing his firm muscles. “What does the script say?” He squinted at the scrolling etched across the thin black band. “Your name, my love. In Old Centaurion. Forever shall you be a part of me.” “Oh, I rather like that.” She chimed a laugh. “Now, all of those jilted females will know you’re mine.” “Was there ever any doubt?” He nuzzled his nose against hers, brushing her cheek. “There are no jilted females, Eione. Only you.” “Is that so?” She skimmed her hands across his decadently brawny shoulders and down to sink her nails into his backside. “What would you tell them if there were?” “Simple.” He undulated his hips forward and stroked

his length inside her. “That you are the most…” Grunting, he thrust once, twice. “Yes?” “Vexatious,” he droned, pumping between her thighs, “headstrong, and daring female I’ve ever encountered.” He claimed her mouth before she could counter him, and then wrenched his lips off hers, grinning wickedly. “And that you’re all mine and I wouldn’t have you any other way.” “Careful, centaur, or this vexatious, headstrong, and daring female just might fire her arrows into both of your hearts.” He nipped her nose. “She already has.” She slipped both hands to frame his face and kissed him, every drop of blood in her body pulsing with love for this male. He rolled them over so his body rested atop hers, his glorious, heavy weight pinning her to the floor while his shaft pounded into her, drawing screams of pleasure from her lips. The potent virility of him entranced her. He was strong enough to command her body, yet gentle enough to shield her from that power. She surrendered to him, to this massive male who captured her heart, her mind, and her soul. This was the beginning of their lives together, and come what may, they would fight for their freedom and their love. Together. Side by side. Until the last beatings of their hearts. And that was the true, wild and untamed, nature of their love.

EPILOGUE PART 1

Six months later

A

grius rubbed at his temples, awakening this morning beside his new mate. His entire world had once again tipped upside down. He’d grieved the loss of his brother Thereus with every beating of his heart. Yet his heart had mended, largely in part to his mate. Joining with Eione had brought immense joy into his life. Her sharp tongue and clever wit kept his centaur nature in check. He’d have married her months ago, but she clung to the hope of one day uniting their families. A futile belief, yet he would deny his mate nothing. She carried no love for her two elder brothers or father, but her other brothers, and perhaps even her sister, were not beyond redemption. Unfortunately, the twin Myron had somehow escaped his guards on their way to Great Meteoron. Luckily, Abiron had managed to evade capture and now resided in Agrius’s village, along with his family. No words had

passed between Lord Macareus and King Cheiron on the subject, though Eione continued to write her family. Her letters were always sent back to South Glen, unopened. Sadly, they’d learned the cause for this simmering hostility. Agrius’s brother Thereus had returned from the dead, well, the pretense of death, and with him, he’d brought terrible news. War was coming. The divide between Lapiths and centaurs hadn’t been cracked; it had been split wide open and, now, the chasm stretched, irreparable. Thereus’s mate, the nymph Melita, who’d posed as the Lapith Princess Kalliste—Thereus’s bride—after her death, had stirred the ants’ nest with her actions. The moment she’d confessed the truth to Agrius last week, he’d known. Retaliation flamed on the horizon. He rolled onto his side and crushed Eione to his chest, securing her in his arms. The dawn’s rays played across her skin, warming her sweet scent. He’d learned yesterday that they must be wed to complete their bonding. Bloody secretive rituals. No one had mentioned this fact to him, though they claimed their father knew the truth. Why had his sire kept him blind? He snorted. It mattered not. Today, his brother and Melita would wed, and next, he and Eione. “Sweetling,” he murmured in her ear, inhaling the floral succulence of her scent. She moaned and dragged her eyes open. “What, Agrius?” “Marry me.” He cocked one brow at her. He awakened her thus every morning. Each morn, she refused him. She hummed and pressed her lips to his. “Yes.” He huffed. “You must agree one da—” Wait. His pulse raced, blood pounding through his veins. “You said ‘yes.’

” “Indeed I did. Clever centaur.” Laughing, she twisted about in his arms and clasped his hand, lowering it to her abdomen. “I love you. As does your son.” She tilted her head. “Or daughter.” His eyes shot wide, his jaw falling open, as he gaped at her. She pressed his hand against her belly, smiling with a secret knowledge. “You…you…” He couldn’t form words. Couldn’t inhale or move a muscle. Blissful joy swept through him, seizing his body. “You are to be a father and I am to be a mother, and by the gods, my dear Agrius, we had best begin our family right.” A tremor shook his hand and a tear slipped from his eye as he pressed his fingers against her belly, greeting their babe for the first time. “Well, don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind.” At Eione’s dry laugh, he regained his composure, snaring her in his arms and claiming her mouth with his. “Nay, my love. You can trust that I’ll never leave your side. Or our child’s.” She caressed her hand against his cheek and he nuzzled into her palm. “A vow I’ll hold you to, Agrius.”

E

ione smiled at the male standing beside her, squeezing his hand while they watched Melita and Thereus speak their vows. This day was perfect. The warm, sunny breeze lifted the heat from their skin and a rainbow of spring flowers cascaded across the meadow.

Her dear friend had at last claimed the happiness she deserved. Agrius grasped her hand more tightly, sending her a mischievous wink that spiraled shivers down to her toes. After she’d realized she carried their child, she could no longer refuse to wed him. Her family might never forgive her, but she was now responsible for a new one. For their child, they would stand together in a harmonious union to defy the war between their races. Their child would know nothing but love and peace. This she pledged. Melita’s lilting voice chimed as she spoke her vows. “The Fates have brought us together. The gods have passed favor over us. From this—” A female behind Eione screamed. Everyone spun toward the woman, and then to where she pointed. At King Cheiron’s feet rolled the severed head of one of his guards. Eione clapped a hand over her mouth, fighting the sickness in her stomach. Agrius crushed her to his chest, tearing her stare off the gruesome scene. “Get everyone to the castle,” the King’s command rang out. Her mate didn’t hesitate to scoop her onto his back and race toward the safety of the castle. Once inside, Agrius swung her down and steadied her, gazing at her. The future they’d both feared radiated within those pewter depths. “War?” she whispered. Nodding, he clutched her to his chest. She sobbed against him, tears flowing down her cheeks. He rubbed a long, slow circle across her back while the hall filled with others. Regaining her composure, she straightened, and he wiped away her tears.

“’Tis because of the babe,” she sniffled. “Nay, lass.” Agrius brushed aside another tear. “’Tis because I must now raise my sword against the very people I should be embracing as my blood and family.” He stiffened, his tense jaw clenched. “I must go to Thereus. Wait here.” After pressing a kiss to the top of her head, he sought out his brother. Eione fought against collapsing and scanned the room, her focus snaring on Melita. She rushed to the nymph’s side. Hector’s wife Delia joined them and they clung to each other. “This is my fault,” Eione whispered. “No, my dear friend.” Melita’s voice came high and pained. “I fear this is all because of me.” She released the women, marching instead to the men. Eione pressed a hand to her forehead, overcome with faintness and flushed with heat. “Come, you must rest.” Delia led her to a bench and she gratefully eased down upon it. “How many weeks?” Eione pried open her fluttering lids to stare at the woman’s clever smile. “Not many.” Delia patted her hand. “All will be well. You must not fret, for the sake of the babe.” “Thank you.” She frowned at the female. Delia had never uttered many kind words to her, but the woman’s drawn brows revealed she might be as fearful as the rest of them about losing their mates. Several minutes passed while strategies and concerns filled the chamber. At last, Agrius waved her to him. Eione trembled in his embrace, fear spiking through her blood. If she wasn’t carrying their babe, they’d fight together, side by side. Yet neither of them would risk their child or her possible capture. She shuddered. What might her family do to her, to

their babe, if she became their prisoner? “No matter what happens,” Agrius bent his forehead to hers, “I will always be a part of you. And you of me. I won’t lose you, Eione. Or our child.” “I know. Return to me, centaur.” “I will.” He pressed a kiss to her lips, then to her belly, his body concealed from the others by her cloak. They hadn’t yet shared their happy news and this wasn’t the right time to announce it. She ran her fingers through his locks. “Swear to me, Agrius, that you will do all within your power to protect your family. Our family.” She pressed his hand against her abdomen, indicating the new clan they had formed together. “I swear it.” He angled his face to hers and she raised her chin, chest swelling with pride and love. This male would not fail her.

A

grius wiped his sweaty palms across his breeches. Both armies had gathered, thousands of men facing one another, prepared to die. And to kill. He stood among them, positive he would do anything to protect his mate and his babe. Scanning the horizon, he spotted Eione’s brother Myron nestled amid several other bold and burly males. Her family. She’d made damned clear to him that he was the only family she counted. Still, could he brandish his sword against them? Could he kill them? When Myron had threatened Eione in the forest, he’d been ready. Was their presence here today any less of a threat?

Eione carried their child, a centaur. No telling what these savages would do to her and their babe. He clenched the hilt of his sword. Though his heart would weep a thousand sorrows… Aye, he would kill them, if it came to that. His mate would be safe by now, having been guided through the tunnels under the protection of their youngest brother, Petraeus, along with the other women and children. Beside him, Thereus paced, just as impatiently as he had when he’d been a lad unable to calm his nerves. Agrius gripped his arm. “Brother.” The peril to his mate seemed to eat away at him, so Agrius tugged on his arm to direct his attention onto him. Thereus nodded, shuffling his hooves instead. He shook his head, once more gazing out at the opposing army. At Eione’s family. Tension stiffened his spine and he tore his focus away. They both stilled while Prince Philaeus, encased by his royal guard, rode forward into the clearing between the armies. Hector and the King galloped down into the valley to meet them, their lack of guards a declaration of their bravery. How long would it last? They raced to refuse the Prince’s offer of sacrificing Melita. Agrius studied Thereus. The pure devotion he expressed toward the nymph was what Agrius had always wished for his brother. In Melita, Thereus had found the peace he’d long sought. No one in Cheiron’s kingdom would tear that from him. Yet this declaration of war would be about far more than a mortal—Melita or Eione. This was a fight between the gods.

Apollo had gained the alliance of the Lapiths and Thereus had convinced King Cheiron to join with Hades and Persephone. The War hadn’t begun yet, but oh, it was coming. This battle was merely a test of the waters. The real fight hovered on the horizon. Thereus grumbled a curse and Agrius whipped his scrutiny to the valley. What in Hades? He squinted at the hazy black mist. A spell? No. Bees. He gaped as the insects parted, revealing Melita. Thereus growled low in warning. Before Agrius could stop his brother, Thereus sprinted through the crowds, shoving aside the warriors. He raced toward Melita, but it was too late. Agrius’s heart sank as the nymph he called friend and the female his brother called mate, disappeared before his eyes. And transformed into a tree.

“W here’s Melita?” Eione pressed a hand to her

mouth, concealing her yawn. Carrying a child drained any woman, and bearing a centaur babe was even worse. Or so she’d been told. Alkippe, Thereus’s doting housekeeper, had shared many tidbits about centaur gestation on the journey here. After they’d stopped for a rest, Eione had fallen into a deep sleep, but she’d awoken to find Melita missing. “Shh, all is well, Lucian.” She clutched Melita and Thereus’s child to her chest, praying her words were true.

“Where is my mama?” The child’s lower lip trembled. Doubtless, this entire situation was frightening for him. “I’m certain she’ll return shortly. Mayhap she went ahead, or is fetching water. Fear not, darling.” She kissed the top of the lad’s head and rocked him in her lap. Several minutes passed before Alkippe’s strong voice rang out for them to continue their march. Eione gathered her sack and guided Lucian alongside her. A few steps into the corridor, a male’s voice cried out from behind them. “Come back!” A centaur guard sprinted to them, panting. “You must return now.” “What of the battle?” The air squeezed from her lungs. “It never happened.” The male’s features darkened. “Because of her.” No. Her stomach twisted as she sensed dreadful news. “Melita. She saved us all.” Eione fell to her knees and clasped Lucian to her chest while the male sped through his story. Melita had transformed into a tree, thus nullifying any thirst for retaliation by the Lapiths. They’d returned to their lands. The battle had never even begun. A tree. How was such even possible? Melita was only halfnymph. She shook her head while the tears rushed down her cheeks. “Eione!” Agrius’s booming timbre shot through her veins. He raced to her side and dropped to his knees beside her, glancing between her and the child. “You heard.” Alkippe called for Lucian, who scurried out from her

embrace and into the centauress’s. “Tell me it’s not true.” Eione pressed her lips thin. “I cannot.” Agrius crushed her into his arms, kissing her hair. “She saved us all, Eione. I have never witnessed such selflessness.” “Thereus?” Agrius’s shoulders deflated. “He refuses to leave her side. Claims she lives within the tree.” He exhaled shakily. “Nothing less is to be expected.” “What do we do now?” she whispered, heart aching with unbearable pain at the loss of her dear friend. Agrius gripped her hand, squeezing tight. “Now, we honor her.” He slid his hand under her elbow and aided her to stand. Numbness spread through her muscles. She’d prepared for losing many of her friends this day, yet never Melita. Silently, they trekked through the tunnels, Eione blinking away tears. At last, they retraced their steps to the inside of Cheiron’s palace. She rushed to the balcony and gazed into the valley. Sure enough, there rested Thereus, on his knees and pounding the earth, beside his tree. Melita. She clamped her hand over her mouth as the tears fell anew. “Can nothing be done for her?” “I fear not.” Agrius opened his arms for her and she stepped into his embrace, resting her head against his shoulder. “She’s with her people now. She made her choice, bravely.” “Poor Lucian.” Eione pressed a hand to her belly. Melita had made the hardest decision any mother could. “Eione?” a young male whispered behind them. She whipped around, gasping in shock. No, it wasn’t possible.

A

grius shoved Eione behind him and unsheathed his sword. He didn’t know this male, but he recognized those eyes. Violet. Like his mate’s. He was of Eione’s blood. “Wait, no, Agrius.” Eione pounded her fist into his back until he glanced at her. “This is Antion. My brother.” “And Dryas.” A young lad peeped out from behind his elder brother. “What are you two doing here?” Eione seized a joyful step toward them, but Agrius grabbed her arm, halting her. His brother had just lost his mate to treachery and Agrius would be bloody damned before he suffered the same fate. The elder male raised both his hands. “I have no weapon, sir.” “Me neither.” The younger copied, giggling at the game, and then raced into Eione’s awaiting arms. She embraced him, patting his scruffy locks, but Agrius kept the tip of his sword trained on the elder. The lad was tall, like Eione, his long golden locks tied at his nape. “How did you sneak in here?” “We saw the swarm of bees and determined where it originated, sir.” Respectful and polite, Antion inclined his head. “We followed the trail into those tunnels.” Aye, so many people scurried about that no one would have noticed two extra lads. “Eione, if they don’t return to your father—” “Please, sir, you can’t send us back,” the elder beseeched.

“He’ll whip us for sure,” the younger chimed in, peeking out from Eione’s arms. “Why?” She narrowed her gaze on him. “We escaped our guardians.” Dryas shrugged, casting them an innocent grin. Agrius chuckled. If Eione’s kin took after her, that grin was anything but innocent. “Agrius?” She tilted her face to him, and now three sets of violet eyes pleaded with him. “I fear these lads cannot stay with us, lest your father accuse us of capturing them, but I might be able to arrange for them to reside in Halcyon.” He scratched his jaw and sighed. “Well, I suppose, what’s the harm in two more fugitives?” Eione laughed and jumped to her feet, gathering both of her brothers in her arms and waving for him to join. He stepped into the warm embrace, his heavy heart lifting. Melita’s sacrifice was devastating, but it was also a great example of how love overpowered all ill will. And brought enemies together as family.

EPILOGUE PART 2

Four months later

A

grius paced the corridor, approached the wall, spun on his heel, and marched to the opposite end. Thereus whistled low, shaking his head. “That doesn’t make the babe come any faster.” He cocked a brow at the smart-mouthed centaur, daring him to continue. “Have you any other words of wisdom, lad, because if you do, I’ll cut them from your tongue.” “Ho!” His brother held up his hands, laughing. Strangely, Thereus had recovered from the loss of his mate. As much as anyone could have hoped. Agrius had been tempted to ask Oreius if he’d shared the sacred waters with him, but had decided perhaps he’d rather not know. For now, he would simply be grateful his brother’s time of mourning had passed. The smile on Thereus’s

face was a genuine relief. They all missed Melita. Their people never failed to place flowers, gifts, and more beneath her tree, reciting poems and singing ballads in her honor. Their gratitude was unending. He shoved his hands through his locks, tossing his head. Eione had banished him earlier, insisting his pacing made her more anxious. But bloody hell, that was his mate in there, on the verge of birthing their child, and centaur births were risky. The very notion that he could lose either of them… He grunted and clenched his jaw. No, he would not even contemplate it. Eione was strong. She would survive this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t stand by her side while she did. Agrius stormed past his brother and shoved through the door just as a scream passed Eione’s lips, followed by coaxing murmuring from Alkippe. “Good, lass, one more push.” His gaze locked with his mate’s. Her skin flushed bright, her eyes sparkling with tears of pain and hope. He rushed to her side and seized her hand, pressing his other against her forehead, and nodded in encouragement. Eione gritted her teeth, huffing shallow pants, and groaned, low and deep, as she birthed their babe. He glanced between the two women, praying one of them would inform him once this was over. Once they were both safe. “A beautiful, healthy babe, milord.” Alkippe chimed a laugh. “’Tis a girl!” “A girl?” He grinned like a fool at Eione, then squeezed her hand and beamed at the child Alkippe swathed in a soft blanket. His tiny daughter yawned and

blinked, peering at the world for the first time. Those violet depths matched Eione’s, making his chest puff with joy. “Ianthe,” he murmured. “Let’s call her Ianthe, for her eyes are as lovely as her mother’s. What do you think?” “Perfect.” Eione beamed at him. Alkippe brought the babe to Eione’s chest and he cooed over the girl with her, beaming as pride flushed his chest. He pressed a kiss to Eione’s forehead, then to their daughter’s head. She already eagerly suckled. “Are you certain you’re both well?” The pang of anxiety refused to release its grip on his heart. “Yes, Agrius. We’re more than well. We’re a family.” Eione smiled at him, so exquisite. The glow around her made her seem as ethereal as the first time he’d glimpsed her, in the woods. When she’d pierced his centaur heart and stolen his human one. And now, their daughter had done the same.

EPILOGUE PART 3

One month later

E

ione handed her daughter to their housekeeper Agava, then rushed to the opposite end of the room to snatch a bonnet and stuff that into her bags. Thereus had insisted they visit Halcyon. Again. Now, with a child, there was simply so much more to pack. She huffed, shaking the flustering from her nerves. Ianthe had begun performing the morphos intermittently, and the pale, milky shade of her smoky cream hide contrasted beautifully against her dark locks. She was a lovely blend of herself and Agrius. A testament to the union of their races. Since the battle on Great Meteoron, Eione had stopped writing her father. Their plan had worked, and her two brothers Antion and Dryas were safely stowed in Halcyon. Which made these visits even more welcome. The lads had written their father and proclaimed their

decision to join Hades’s army. They’d never received a reply, though Eione could well imagine her father and brothers’ response. Others had flocked to their lands, seeking asylum from the conscription to Philaeus’s army. She and Agrius welcomed them, finding homes for the newcomers amongst each of the centaur lords’ lands. The last news she’d received was of the Prince’s wedding to her sister, Lavra. She shook her head. They’d chosen their side. She’d chosen hers. Whatever came of this War, she had a new family now. A home and a people to protect. “Time to leave, Eione!” Agrius bellowed from the stairs. “Coming.” She waved at Agava to follow her and marched from the chamber into Agrius’s waiting arms. He embraced her, pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and led her to the Portal. The leaders of Halcyon, the two winged males Nazrin and Gaven, had connected their Portal to one outside of Halcyon, making the journey much faster. They stepped inside together and treaded forward from the Portal, into the forest outside of Halcyon’s boundaries. Thereus stood at the cleft in the mountains, grinning at them. “Agrius, Eione.” He clasped them both, then stepped to Ianthe. “My favorite niece.” He cooed at the babe, kissing her cheek, and Eione shifted her to Thereus’s arms. She frowned at the ease with which Thereus always cradled the babe. Most males treated Ianthe as though she might break if they touched her, but Thereus steadily rocked the girl.

At the entrance to Halcyon, Agrius murmured the passwords, “Asphodelus, eros, aionios.” Daffodil, love, and eternal. Eione smiled at her mate as he linked his arm with hers, guiding her through the cleft and down the stone pathway. Agava and Thereus, holding Ianthe, trailed behind them. A young lad cried from several hundred feet ahead, and Eione squinted, catching sight of Lucian racing toward them. As swift as his centaur relatives, the lad galloped, skidding to a halt and leaping into Eione and Agrius’s embrace. She laughed, kissing the lad’s cheeks. “Lucian, my darling. I’m so glad to see you.” Like Thereus, Lucian divided his time between Halcyon and Westgard. “Mama is going to be so excited!” The lad squirmed and wriggled in her arms, squealing. She tilted her face to Agrius’s. The poor child still hadn’t grasped his mother’s transformation. Agrius’s eyes misted and he squeezed her hand. “Eione.” A female called from down the path. A voice she’d heard many times. She tore her stare from Agrius and blinked at the figure strolling toward them. It couldn’t be. Yet the female appeared exactly as Melita had. The same mahogany hair and eyes. The same gentle smile. “You react this way every time we meet.” The woman laughed. “Yes, it’s me, Melita. No, I am not a tree. With the aid of Persephone, Thereus rescued me from that fate and brought me here. Outside of Halcyon, no one can recall the truth of my existence.” She lifted one brow, smiling mischievously. “Does that clarify everything?” “Ahh.” Her mouth couldn’t seem to form words. She exchanged arched brows with Agrius, who gaped as

widely as she did. The woman’s tale made sense, though. Eione stared at the swaddling cloth strung across her front. A babe. She rushed forward, halting a step from the woman who claimed to be her dear friend, and studied her. Yes. She laughed. “It is you.” “It is.” Melita dipped her head. “You’ve had a babe.” Eione stroked the youngling’s hair. “A girl. She’s beautiful.” “Kierra.” Thereus chuckled. “My little black one.” Ha, so that was why Thereus felt at ease holding a babe. Melita beamed. “The last time we met, both of our bellies were so round—” “We felt like beached whales.” Eione chuckled. “I remember now.” Images flooded her mind. Dozens of visits to Halcyon over the past months. All of the precious moments she’d spent with her friend. Hopping up on her toes, she wrapped her arms around her sister-in-law and her niece. Sighing contentedly, Melita embraced her. “I’ve missed you so.” Eione pulled back, the pinch tightening her chest easing. “And I’ve missed you.” She pressed her lips thin. “When I return, I’ll forget you?” Her friend’s lashes drifted downward as she lowered her gaze. “I’m afraid so. It’s the only thing that keeps my family safe.” “Then, we shall savor every moment we have together.” She laced her arm in Melita’s, and Agrius joined her side, greeting his niece. Thereus chuckled behind them, introducing Ianthe to Melita. The babes were passed between them, kisses and cooing and joy bubbling around them.

Agrius slipped his hand into hers while Thereus, Melita, Agava, and Lucian treaded toward the center of Halcyon ahead of them. Eione clutched Ianthe to her chest and peered into Agrius’s pewter eyes, shining with so much love her heart threatened to burst. “This is our family,” she murmured, her throat tight with joy. “Aye, my love, and whatever comes to pass, we will stand and fight for them.” He pressed a heated kiss to her lips. “Agrotere, we will protect them. Together.” Agrius rested his forehead against hers, Ianthe gripping one of his strong fingers in her grasp. “Always.”

“A re you certain we’ll not be caught?” A blush crept

along Eione’s cheeks, blooming in a becoming, innocent manner, one Agrius hadn’t witnessed since their first encounter. His mate was hardly a timid maiden, yet since the birth of their daughter, he’d not pleasured her. Though keeping his hooves off her had damn well near killed him. The torment was over, though, and soon she’d be breathless and whimpering, desperate for his touch. Just one more task to complete first. He’d convinced Eione to hand their babe to Thereus and Melita for the eve, but not for the midnight tryst he’d promised. Though he hoped there’d be plenty of time for kindling passions afterward. Melita had sneakily suggested Eione don a silver gown this evening. The silky fabric traced her lush

curves, just as his tongue longed to do. A rumble in his chest, he squeezed her hand and led them down the stone pathway inside Halcyon to a location he’d scouted in the woods. At the edge of the forest, he adjusted his deep blue waistcoat and ivory shirt, struggling not to shuffle his hooves as well. Through the darkness, twinkling sparks winked at them from between the trees. Damn. Aedre—Gaven’s mate—had a knack for this. Eione gasped at his side as he swept back a collection of branches to reveal a glittering pathway leading straight to a pair of bowed trees illuminated with the ethereal glow of hundreds of fireflies—the handiwork of Cassiopeia, enchantress of living creatures. This past week in Halcyon, they’d learned Eione’s gift was not unique, nor insignificant. The gods hadn’t merely been mustering their armies—they’d been securing the loyalty of fierce warrior couples. Persephone and Hades had been seeking out females bestowed these divine powers and uniting them with the male whose love would strengthen them. The flowers gracing this enchanted wedding were but small proof of Melita and Thereus’s roles in Hades’s army. Threaded in between the fireflies, twisting ropes of white blossoms entwined. To the right of the arbor, a long table stretched beneath an arched dome of sparkling blooms. Gathered on either side of the aisle, their friends awaited with beaming grins nearly as bright as the fireflies. “Agrius?” Eione twisted to him, shaking her head as though in disbelief. “What is all this?” In answer, he sank to one knee. Bellowing cheers arose from the crowd, his brothers whistling in

encouragement. “About time!” Thereus jeered, grinning like a fool beside Melita. “Aye, sure enough.” Chuckling, he held up a hand to silence them, and grasped Eione’s hand in his other. “My love, I have waited lifetimes to make you mine. I know this isn’t the union of families you’ve always longed for, but if you’ll have us,” he swept his free hand toward the grouping, “we will cherish you forever. Will you do me the grand honor of becoming my wife?” Tears misted in those lovely violet depths, spilling down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes and nodded. “Yes, Agrius. A thousand times, yes.” His heart burst with joy and he shot to his feet, snaring her in his arms. The cheering hushed while his father, King Cheiron, stepped from the crowd, inclining his head at them as he took his place beneath the arbor to bless the ceremony. Hector strode forth from the crowd and bowed before Eione. “My Lady, allow me to escort you.” Agrius exchanged a grateful nod with his brother and dashed down the aisle, standing to wait for his bride. Eione rested her hand atop Hector’s arm and he guided her down the petal-scattered pathway to stand before Agrius. This moment may not be what either of them had ever anticipated, but as with any dream, it fulfilled them both in ways they’d never imagined, seizing their hearts and claiming their souls with the most precious gift of all. Love. Agrius clasped Eione’s hands in his, his vows pouring from his puffed chest. “The Fates have brought us together. The gods have passed favor over us. From this moment, I join my life with yours. My body to honor you.

My heart to cherish you. My soul forever yours. I give myself to you.” He bent his forehead to hers, the purity of their love flowing between them. From this moment on, until the end of time. Eione mirrored the vows, flashing him the dazzling smile that stole his breath and stopped both his hearts.

GLOSSARY

Olympian – the lingua franca (common tongue) of the gods and their descendants. potamoi – a river demon raptio – sexual slaves Adrasteia – Arsenius’s brigantine. Named after his halfsister, the goddess of revenge and balance. morphos – a shift in form, whether permanent or temporary. E.g. when a centaur changes form from a centaur to a human, he undergoes the morphos. chalkos, argyros, and chrysos – three passwords to the symposium, meaning “copper, silver, and gold” asphodelus, eros, aionios – three passwords to Halcyon, meaning “daffodil, love, and eternal” lyssa – a madness affecting centaurs, especially related to an incomplete bonding melita – term of endearment meaning “honey-sweet” quarter – pyrate term for “mercy” Old Centaurion – an ancient centaur language Meliae – honey nymphs hubris – excessive pride toward or defiance of the gods Pythia – Oracle sacred to Apollo

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’ve always planned to write the stories of Thereus’s brothers, but after readers went a little crazy over the centaurs in Earth Borne (and admittedly, I did too) I knew I just had to tell them now. Thank you to my amazing beta readers, Ashley, Gina, Lyn, Nicola, and Bonnie, for drooling and gushing along with me. A big thank you to my review team and street team, who always amaze me with their fantastic support. To Kelley, my awesome copy editor, thanks for helping me through each of my projects. Karie Deegan, my kickass PA, I couldn’t do any of this without you. I have a centaur reserved just for you. He’s around here somewhere. Hugs and kisses to my family, for always sticking by me.

And to my readers, I hope these centaurs exceed all of your dreams. Brace yourselves ;)

MEET RACHAEL

USA Today bestselling and award-winning author Rachael Slate resides on the West Coast of Canada with her husband, two children, cat, and dog. Plus hummingbirds, songbirds, mason bees, and the occasional butterfly in her garden. When not writing, she’s probably thinking about food (cooking, baking, or watching cooking shows). She also adores the outdoors—running, hiking, canoeing, camping, swimming, etc—so that helps to offset her culinary obsession! Rachael writes sizzling stories that blend the lines between mythology, reality, and fantasy. In her worlds, you’ll encounter strong, sexy alpha males and the fierce, capable heroines who challenge them. And always, scorching hot romance. For free reads, exclusive content, giveaways, and to learn about upcoming releases, sign up for her newsletter. Reviews help readers find the books they love. Please consider leaving a review. Thank you for reading! Much love,

Rachael would love to hear from you! You can find her here: www.rachaelslate.com [email protected]



FREE READS!

Psst! Do you love free books? How about sizzling fantasy romances that sweep you away to exotic worlds, pull you in, and leave you breathless? Subscribe to Rachael’s newsletter and receive her scorching hot novella, Rematch, for free. If you haven’t taken a bite of her Chinese Zodiac Romance Series yet, then this standalone novella is the perfect start. You’ll also receive a free copy of her steamy centaurshifter novella, Wicked Lord of Thessaly, book one in the swoon-worthy, complete Lords of Thessaly series. If you love Greek Mythology, this is one you don’t want to miss. Plus, you can check out the bonus epilogue for Trancing the Tiger, Foul Play: a Moon Borne short story, and a bonus prologue for Water Borne. Grab your free reads by joining Rachael’s newsletter. *Please check your inbox/junk folder for your freebies*

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Look for these titles, available here.

CHINESE ZODIAC ROMANCE SERIES: BOOK 1: TRANCING THE TIGER BOOK 2: REMATCH BOOK 3: BY THE HORNS BOOK 4: MATCH ME LATER BOOK 5: REINING HIM IN BOOK 6: MATCHING DRAGONS BOOK 7: NEVER MATCH A DRAGON BOOK 8: IN WOLF’S CLOTHING

HALCYON ROMANCE BOOKS:

HALCYON ROMANCE SERIES: BOOK 1: MOON BORNE BOOK 2: EARTH BORNE BOOK 3: WATER BORNE

LORDS OF THESSALY SERIES: (series now complete!) BOOK 1: WICKED LORD OF THESSALY BOOK 2: BRUTISH LORD OF THESSALY BOOK 3: MASTERFUL LORD OF THESSALY BOOK 4: UNTAMED LORD OF THESSALY BOOK 5: LOST LADY OF THESSALY

LORDS OF KRETE SERIES:

BOOK 1: WATER’S MARK (A ZODIAC SHIFTERS PARANORMAL ROMANCE: CANCER) BOOK 2: EARTH’S MARK BOOK 3: AIR’S MARK BOOK 4: FIRE’S MARK BOOK 5: AETHER’S MARK

CURSED IMMORTALS SERIES: BOOK 1: SHADOW BORNE

PREVIEW OF BRUTISH LORD OF THESSALY

Want more Halcyon Romance? Read on for an exclusive sneak peek at the first chapter from Book 2 in the Lords of Thessaly series, Brutish Lord of Thessaly, available now! Born to heal Nysa of the Krenaiai nymphs has spent the last fifty years trapped inside her well, until her waters are gifted to the surly centaur Lord Oreius. Instead of consuming her gift, he tosses the sacred liquid to the ground, and the spell goes awry. Nysa is transformed back into a nymph, but she can only survive so long without her well —which happens to rest on enemy lands. Yet she chooses to stay, because something in Oreius’s eyes demands she coax out the darkness…even if it threatens to consume her. The weight of the past Lord Oreius has drowned his grief beneath a torrent of shame and regret. No one, not even a sultry nymph, can heal the wounds in his soul and the guilt tainting his

heart. Though she bloody well keeps trying. He longs to find forgiveness in her eyes, but first, he’ll have to find it within himself. War looms on the horizon, and when their enemies join forces, Oreius’s last chance at redemption just might have come too late. And the hope of the future When Nysa is torn from Oreius, he’ll have to fight for a second chance at life, and at love. Even if it means giving up his brutish ways. CHAPTER ONE Centaur lands, Thessaly Year 1384 of the reign of King Cheiron II Oreius tilted the silver flask and sniffed the liquid within. Too sweet to be water, too perfumed to be a potion of evil. Not that his brother Agrius would do such a thing. Heal me. He snorted. Agrius and his mate, Eione, had gifted Oreius the vessel months ago, exclaiming with fervor how it would “cure” him. Ha. He had no desire for a cure, nor to ever be relieved of his heavy burden. Sarra was gone and ’twas his fault his sons had no mother. Nothing, not even a washing tub full of potent waters, could remedy those truths. He grimaced at the flask in his hands. Why the hell had he held on to it for so many months? He ought to have done this the moment Agrius had bestowed him the vessel. Heaving a sigh, he stepped to the balcony, tipped the flask, and poured its contents onto the manicured

lawn below. There. Done. Shaking his head, he veered toward his study. “Argh,” a feminine cry echoed from below. He whipped around and peered over the railing. Dear gods, a female sprawled on the ground, nude and dripping wet. She moaned and rolled onto her hands and knees, her long, silvery blue locks clinging to her lithe form like drenched clothes. “Ho there, lass. What—” She lifted sparkling, pale sapphire eyes to his, catching his breath. Sapphira. He scented the air and inhaled her fragrance. Nymph. Oh, damn. The waters. “You. Why did you spill my waters?” She rose on unsteady legs, wobbling and perching her hands on her hips. Those depths narrowed on him, hardening into icy gems. His throat dried as he gaped at the lovely female. Luscious curves and a slender, graceful form that would fit perfectly into the crook of his arm. Hell. Oreius scraped a hand down his face, tearing his stare from the nymph. After he steadied his raging nerves, he leapt over the balcony rail and landed in front of her. “Begone, temptress.” He flung out his arm, holding the flask for her to return to it. Agrius was definitely going to receive a lashing from him for this. Trickery. Treachery. He hadn’t deemed his brother capable of such betrayal. Instead of obeying him, she arched one pointed brow,

wrinkling her pixie nose. “That isn’t how it works.” Treading forward, she pointed a finger at him. “You tossed my waters onto the ground. You dishonored my gift. And you shall remedy this.” She jabbed her finger into his chest, jolting him. She must have sensed the spark too, for she gasped, seizing one step backward. Yet, the fire in her eyes didn’t dim as she glared at him, crossing her arms over her bountiful breasts. He swallowed thickly and forced his focus once more to rest on her face. That didn’t help. Her lips were sensuously curved petals, as deep a pink as the flushing of her cheeks. She was lovely and seductive. And utterly disastrous.

Nysa flinched while Oreius removed his ivory tunic, baring his thickly muscled chest and wide, devastatingly brawny shoulders. His enormous centaur half was even more imposing than his human torso. He extended the tunic to her, jerking his square chin, his tail swishing in agitation. His piercing glare pegged her, those depths swirling like the darkest silver patches of his horse hide. She plucked the clothing from him, still tense. Her nudity brought her no shame, for nymphs rarely suffered from modesty, but the male’s dark scowl suggested he did. So she tugged on the tunic, taking a moment to observe her surroundings. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It never had before. Though, neither had anyone ever rejected her gift.

Her waters healed many ailments of the soul—grief, guilt, self-loathing. As she understood it, this male suffered from them all. When Agrius and Eione had taken the waters from her well, she’d gladly permitted them, for their intent to aid his brother had been pure of heart. But Oreius? Oh, no. The male had scorned the gift and had discarded her waters onto his lawn. The brute. Somehow, she’d been freed from her well in the process. Her hand drifted down to her belly, calming the churning within. She hadn’t been outside of her home in decades, and she couldn’t survive long without the source of her waters. If she’d grasped the situation correctly, her well lay within enemy lands of the centaurs, and returning to it might prove impossible. Damn him again. She fired her glower across his broad chest and up to those eyes. So dark and so full of pain. They captured her, luring her in. Every ounce of her being pulsed with the urge to heal, and Oreius was the most wounded male she’d ever encountered. “Well, Lord Oreius?” she huffed. “Will you not—” “How do you know my name?” His front right leg stamped, his nostrils flaring. Like many other beasts, centaurs could sniff out untruths. She raised her chin. “My connection to my waters. I’m aware of everything that happened in the vicinity of the flask. I know how much your brother risked to draw from my well, and how little you deserve his offering.” He reared back, gaping at her with wide, concerned eyes. “Who are you?” “I am Nysa of the Krenaiai, well nymphs. Your brother trekked through Lapith lands to secure my waters, to unburden you.” She sighed. “And now I’m here, away

from my home.” Rubbing her arms, she puffed out her breath. The night air and the moisture clinging to her skin had chilled her. “You are cold.” His brows bunched together and he took one step toward her, only to stagger back. “Come inside and warm yourself by the fire. We shall discuss a solution together.” She nodded and followed him through the doorway beneath the balcony, up a set of winding stairs, and into the cozy study where her flask had sat for the past ten months. “Come.” He waved to the blazing hearth and the armchair beside it. Gratefully, she collapsed into the chair, soaking in the warmth. She eyed the flask while he set it upon the table. “You are correct,” he conceded with a grave nod. “This is my fault and I swear to you, I will restore you safely to where you belong.” Oreius perched on the enormous chair opposite hers, planting his elbows on his front legs and dropping his head into his hands wearily. “Where is your home, nymph?” “Mount Pelion,” she murmured the unfortunate truth. He froze, likely sensing the peril of her situation. “I know you are at war, but if I don’t return to my well, I will die.” As a Krenaiai, her life force was bound to the well and the waters within. She’d never ventured so far from her home. She lifted and dropped a shoulder. “This never would have happened—” “Aye, Sapphira,” he grimaced, “if I’d just drunk the damned waters.”

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