Earth Borne (8 page)

Death.

Thereus had extinguished any yearning she had to tell him her true identity. He would show her no leniency. She would hang for her treason. So would Alkippe. Lucian would be motherless.

No, this was war, and she refused to surrender. She must forget any notion of indulging in her past feelings for Thereus and force him to leave. Afterward, she would resume her life. Her content, carefree life.

Melita slipped out of the study, before she and Thereus quarreled again. Plants. Yes. She required the comfort only nature provided.

At the Portal, one guard held up his hand for her to wait. The Portal shimmered, and out strode Petraeus.

Damn, damn,
damn
. This day could not get any worse. Rather than kiss his cheek in greeting, she bit out, “What are
you
doing here?” Snatching his arm, she dragged them both through the Portal.

“Er, Kalliste, have I done something wrong?” Petraeus protested as she shoved him into the woods. After she was sure they were hidden, she regarded him. Without a doubt, Thereus’s youngest brother was devastating. Storm-grey eyes held notes of green and gold, sandy highlights streaked his white-blond hair. Everything about his coloring was unusual, compelling. His tall, hard body was so like his brothers’. Any woman would swoon at his feet. Well, any except Melita. He should’ve taken her breath away. He didn’t.

She never saw past him being Thereus’s little brother.

He cast her a lopsided grin. “Missed me so much you simply couldn’t wait to be alone, sweetling?” He leaned in for a kiss. All he got was her cheek.

“I had to come, to see how that bastard is treating you.” His stance softened as he caressed her arm.

“Petraeus—” Her voice carried a note of warning.

“Aye, aye.” He chuckled and withdrew his hand. Growing serious, he focused on her. “It’s not too late. I can free you.”

Her smile withered as she shook her head. He had no idea how to truly free her. “I know what you propose, darling, and you know my reason for refusing you.” She placed one hand on the hard muscles of his chest, above his heart. “You don’t love me.”

“I care for you deeply,” he offered, not denying her statement.

She laughed. She’d been fighting off his proposals for years. It was a jest between them. Each of Thereus’s unwed brothers offered themselves to her, as their honor demanded. Only Petraeus remained insistent. Though he never spoke of it, Melita knew why. He’d been three when his mother died. Thereus’s abandonment of Lucian sat hard with Petraeus.

However, he did not love her. She would never trap him in marriage. He was a fine young male, and someday another would capture his heart.

“I care for you as well, but you are meant for someone else. Ah, ah, ah,” she tsked as he opened his mouth to counter her. “I am fine, truly. He won’t be staying for long.” She hoped.

“Bastard,” he muttered.

“No, no, it’s better this way.” She offered him a weak smile.

“Say the word, Kalliste, and I’ll kill him for you.” Scowling, he clasped her in his arms.

“Forgive me.” She pushed back from his embrace.

“Why?”

“Please, you must go. You can’t be here.” The last thing she needed was to invoke a centaur’s jealousy. If Thereus learned another male had his sights on
his
wife, it would be disastrous to her plans. He’d never leave.

Petraeus growled. “Very well, but I’m only a letter away,
hmm
?” He tilted her chin up at him. She nodded, warmed by his concern. In a brotherly fashion, he kissed the top of her head then released her. “Take care, sweetling, and remember.”

“I will.” She smiled and waved as he galloped toward the forest. Alone again, she sank to her knees, staring at her shaking hands. That was close. Too close.

She was still torn up from her argument with Thereus. Her mind reasoned their dispute was a good thing. The more they quarreled, the more likely he’d be to abandon her once more.

Her heart protested it would never be able to piece itself back together again if he did.

Chapter 8

Thereus awoke in a cold sweat. His heart beat so rapidly inside his chest he was sure it would explode. His left arm throbbed with such severity he had a mind to saw it off.

That wouldn’t cure him.

Shame over his outburst with Kalliste this afternoon pulsed through him. He’d begun by praising her, and somehow they’d ended in a bitter fight. Fury burned in him, but not at her. At himself, for having left his estate in ruin. Yet he’d directed his anger, most ungenerously, at her. He refused to resume their marriage as he’d left it—an endless war of words he’d long ago lost.

His arm throbbed again and a fever broke across his skin as images of
that
night assaulted him.

He’d quarreled with his new bride for three weeks. Each day, they went at it like dogs. Why was she so cruel to him? He’d always been able to charm any female. Not Kalliste. Her heart was made of ice.

When she’d first arrived as his bride, he’d been lukewarm about the whole idea. At least she was beautiful, he’d conceded. For a week, he’d courted her. She said little, contributed little, and only spoke when asked a direct question. His wife refused to meet any of his family. Still, he tried. On their wedding night, she’d transformed into an entirely different creature. Though timid, she’d met his passion.

Or so he’d believed. Until the next morning, when his wife was once more the glacial beauty he’d wed.

Each day afterward, he’d attempted to seduce her, yet her sharp tongue shocked him. She’d called him a brute, an animal. The truth of her personality revealed itself. She refused each of his advances.

Thereus wasn’t used to such celibacy. He wanted—needed—to lie with a female. All centaurs did. The abstinence had driven him mad. He’d been forced to drink to suppress those urges.

His worst nightmare had come true—being tied to a female who wouldn’t have him. He was at his wit’s end, confounded by what else he could do.

One night he’d become utterly intoxicated. In the wee hours of the morning, he’d stumbled to his rooms. In the dim stairwell outside his chambers, he’d caught the most delicious honeyed scent. The repressed animal in him flew into a rage. When he perceived those long mahogany locks, he lost the power to resist. She was his. His by right.

A centaur unfulfilled was a danger to himself and others. It was more than simple lust. A madness infected them. Centaurs suspected of having succumbed to the
lyssa
were imprisoned, and if they couldn’t be cured, executed.

Thereus had leapt upon the maiden in the stairwell. When she’d parted her lips—and her legs—for him, he’d growled in triumph. In the darkness, he’d shoved down his breeches and hiked up her skirts. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he’d pounded into her until he was exhausted. After he’d finished, he’d simply deserted her in the stairwell, and with little grace had stumbled into his bedchamber and lost consciousness.

Thereus didn’t recall much else, except how his left arm had throbbed, and how, the next morning, he’d been horrified to find blood on himself. The logical deduction made him ill, and he’d heaved the contents of his stomach into his chamber pot. The maiden hadn’t been his wife. Who the bloody hell was she? He’d met each of the castle’s servants, hadn’t he?

The horror intensified when he touched his left bicep and traced the bonding mark beneath the skin, itching to break free. Though invisible to the eye, if someone prodded his arm, they’d detect a hard line, like a thin rope, forming a band underneath the skin.

His howls had echoed to him with ghastly terror. What in Hades had he done? Not only had he committed adultery, he’d taken a girl’s maidenhead, possibly against her will, and he’d begun
bonding
with her. He was unable to face his shame, any of it.

He’d chosen to leave. His wife despised him. With him gone, she’d have the right to return to her people. If he stayed, he’d risk bonding to this mystery woman. Being chained to one female for eternity.

How would he explain to his family his household of illegitimate heirs? He’d never be able to mate, much less have children with Kalliste. His actions would disgrace them. Like a coward, rather than face himself, or locate the lass and apologize, he’d fled.

When his ship had wrecked, he’d seen it as a sign of approval from the gods. The news of the wreck would reach his family. They’d assume he was dead, and might grieve, but probably not for long.

For years, he kept his dark secret hidden. No one, not even Arsenius, ever guessed. He’d been so careful, so clever, at concealing the truth. Taking great pains to continue his deception.

He hadn’t bedded a female in nigh five years, yet he’d damn well made it seem as though he conquered plenty. Every day, he lived his ruse, a life of lies. All to deny what he couldn’t bear to admit.

Thereus rubbed his arm, attempting to ease the burning sensation accompanying the throbbing. As a partially bonded male, his already voracious appetite for females increased tenfold, yet he’d been unable to indulge. None save the female his horse had chosen would satisfy him.

He wanted nothing to do with her.

Until now. Certainly, the bonding mark bothered him every so often, yet the pain had never increased in severity as it had since his return.

It made no sense. His horse hadn’t chosen her five years ago. Why did he now, what had changed?

Had the gods taken pity on his attempt at redemption? Would they bond him to his wife instead? Or was this Persephone’s doing? She
had
warned him of his mate…

Terror over having no choice broke a new sweat across his skin. Kalliste might refuse him, as she’d done years ago. Only, if he were bonded, he wouldn’t be able to run away again.

Where was the mystery woman who’d initiated this bloody mess? She haunted his dreams, though he couldn’t picture her face. If not for the evidence, he’d have convinced himself it was an illusion. Her honeyed scent was so dream-like in itself, the memory of it made his mouth water and his cock grow hard with need.

Her honeyed scent.

An inkling formed in his mind. It was so absurd, he dismissed the notion at once. Aye, it was most definitely ridiculous, and so very unlikely. Yet not…impossible.

Thereus rubbed his face in his hands. He’d been a bastard yesterday, and it was time to apologize to his wife. Again. First, he sought the exertion of a long run to work off his frustration.

***

Melita sipped her tea in the atrium while Lucian chased a butterfly. Her argument with Thereus the day before had been a blessing, no matter the tattered state of her heart this morning. She was doing precisely what it would take to convince Thereus to leave. If it proved harder than she’d assumed, well, that was her fault.

Soon this would be finished. He’d be gone and she’d have her freedom.

A shuffling echoed by the door. The hairs on her neck tingled as though someone watched her. Whirling around, the glorious form of Thereus stormed her senses. She drank him in with greed, her skin flushing at the memory of his heat. Her heart sighed in contentment while her resolve scowled.
What is he doing here?
He should have avoided her for a day, at the very least.

“What do you seek, my Lord?” Her voice dripped with ice.

“I…”

Good, he wasn’t prepared for an ill reception.

He frowned at her for a minute, but strode forward and knelt, with utmost elegance, at her feet. “I wish to apologize, my Lady. It appears once more I’m in need of your forgiveness. You’ve done so much for this castle and I’d no right to insult you.”

Her heart stuck in her throat. To have this gigantic centaur humbled at her feet was a sight she’d never envisioned. His smile jested a little, for he was never entirely serious, but sincerity permeated his tone. He’d had a reputation for charming women and she didn’t doubt he’d perform the grandest of gestures if it got him what he sought. What female could resist?

Certainly not Melita. No male ever treated her as though they desired
her
.

Not Thereus. Here was a male, who it seemed, genuinely wished to claim
her
. Even though she’d been horrible to him. She shook her head, unsure of how to respond. Unlike Thereus, she had no experience with this kind of flirting.

He must have perceived her wrong, for pain flashed in his eyes. “My Lady, forgive me. I’ve spoiled our truce. Yet you promised me five weeks. I
can
be different, Kalliste. I swear it.”

Her heart melted. This was the Thereus she’d loved. The male she remembered. Despite everything, she viewed the lad who never believed himself good enough for his father, his brothers. Who misbehaved because he craved their attention. Well, and also because he
was
wild. She empathized with the yearning for acceptance. For someone to love him as he was. If only she might determine a way to tell him, somehow. She’d loved him, faults and all.

She stared into those stunning verdant depths and, afraid to speak, instead inclined her head. A grin spread across his face and she smiled back.

“What do you propose, my Lord?”