My Spartan Hellion (33 page)

“Lamia, no!”

Digging his heels into Zeus’ flanks, he charged forward. The icy fingers of fear clenched tighter around his heart with each passing moment as he raced towards the hill, spurring his mount to go faster.

In all his
annos
, he’d never done this. He’d never broken formation, never once left the battlefield. He hadn’t even stopped to transfer command to his second, Ulysseus, or even to Adonis who’d been close by. All thoughts of the Romans and the battle vanished from his head as he raced towards the city. None of it mattered. All he could think of was Lamia. That he loved her. That she was the most important person in his entire world and he’d not once told her this.

“Out of my way!” he called out before he reached the
phalanx
. The men were stunned to see their king charging forward, but they did as he commanded.

The six remaining layers all parted for him, immediately closing once again as soon as he’d passed through.

Zeus’ hooves clapped along the cobbled streets as he navigated his way through the city until he reached the base of the hill.

“Up, Zeus,” he commanded, pushing his treasured warhorse, who’d been with him since he was a colt, up the steep hill.

Zeus trudged forward, climbing steadily until they reached the top. He’d barely reined in Zeus to a stop before he leapt to the ground, ripped off his helmet and raced towards Lamia where she lay prostrate on the soft grass.

Nudging Callisto aside, he cupped the back of Lamia’s head and pressed his hand against her bleeding wound. Her garments were stained red, and the angry circle had spread across her entire middle.

A cold sweat trickled down his forehead as fear gnawed at him. “Get a physician,” he barked out as he held her. He’d seen enough wounds to know she needed to be attended to soon.

“Lamia.” He called her name softly, stroking her warm brow, pushing back the tiny wisps of hair that had broken free from her braid.

“Thanos,” she said breathlessly, a small smile lifting her lips.

“Shhh, do not speak. It will be all right,” he said quietly, his voice cajoling as if she were a child. He ran his hand down her face to cup her chin. “I love you,” he whispered, the words that had been locked inside him for so long tumbling forth effortlessly.

He
loved
her.

She tried to smile again, but this time the pain must have made it more difficult and her eyes watered. “I love you too, Thanos. My Spartan,” she said weakly, and then it was as if his entire world stopped as he watched her lashes flutter shut and her body still.

* * * *

Ulysseus saw her as soon as his horse climbed over the ridge to his home. She stood there, her eyes anxious, although she did her best to hide her fear behind a brave mask.

Her face lit up as soon she saw him, and he urged his stallion forward until she was standing below him. Dropping down from his mount he dragged her into his arms, holding her close.

She clung to him, the warmth of her body seeping through his armour to heat his skin. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent, which reminded him of wildflowers in springtime. He didn’t want to let her go, not after so many moons spent without her, dreaming of her, hoping the last vision of her would not be one from his dreams that he carried with him to the Underworld.

“Ulysseus.” Her touch was tender against his hair-roughened face, bringing him back to the present, reminding him that he was still very much alive.

He dipped his head to taste her lips. The kiss was gentle, just enough to tide him over until later when he’d explore her body more fully in the privacy of their bedchamber. Dragging his mouth from hers, he tucked her small hand in his and without a word they walked inside their home.

Ulysseus needed to visit the baths and cleanse himself before coming to her, but she gripped his hand tight, leading them towards their bedchamber, one of only two rooms in their home with a door. This was where they went when they needed complete privacy from the
helots
in their household.

He ushered her into the room before him and closed the door. Dawn was on the horizon, and tiny rays of shimmering gold streamed through the window, bathing their bed in their russet glow, fanning out behind Basha, casting her in their ethereal radiance. She looked like a goddess before him, her gauzy
chiton
almost completely sheer, which was why he soon noticed the changes in her.

They were subtle. Her breasts were fuller, her hips rounder, and there was just a gentle swell to her belly, but even with the slight changes, he
knew
. And it destroyed him.

He stilled, the pain of her betrayal threatening to buckle his knees. Ulysseus stood there completely helpless against the anguish that seared him, burning through his belly until it consumed his heart.

“Ulysseus—”

She took a step towards him, her hand outstretched, but when he drew away from her, pressing his back to the door, she stopped, letting her hand fall to her side.

It was as if a fist had closed around his heart and he felt as if he would die from the pain. He couldn’t breathe—every single breath was painful, agonising. The air in the room had disappeared and now he was suffocating.

He’d known this dawn would come. He’d seen the signs, but he’d hoped he would be wrong. He’d convinced himself they were past this, and when she’d told him she loved him, he’d believed her, which was why he’d been certain she would not do what he’d asked her not to do, what he’d made her promise not to do.

“Ulysseus, let me explain—”

“What is there to explain, Basha? I asked you not to take another man into our bed, inside your body.” His entire body shook as his voice climbed and he realised he was shouting, but he could not control himself long enough to temper his voice. “I asked you not to give another man what was mine, but you did not care. You claim you love me, but you don’t. The only person you love is yourself.”

“That is not t—”

“True?” A bitter laugh escaped his lips and he shook his head. To think he’d loved her since he was a young man, had spent his entire life trying to please her, trying to make her happy, but it had never been enough. Basha needed perfection. Driven by her own insecurities, she could not accept anything less.

“What is not true? That you took a lover? I know you made love with Zenos.” He ignored her shocked gasp as he advanced forward, coming to a stop before her. “I saw you enter the baths with him, and I waited there for an hour until you both left.”

She shook her head and opened her mouth to speak, but he didn’t give her the chance. He didn’t need to hear lies from her lips when he had eyes.

He had endured physical pain beyond what a normal man could stand and still live, and yet the pain of seeing his wife with another man, knowing she was a liar, had nearly killed him.

“I gave you many opportunities to tell me the truth, but you lied to me, to my face. Every time I asked you if you needed to discuss something, you said there was nothing to tell. Even when we stopped making love, you did not feel compelled to tell me the truth. Why do you think I would not touch you for so many moons? I knew if you would lie about taking a lover that you would not hesitate to get with child, then try to pass it off as mine and then lie about that too.”

Tears spilled over her lids to stream down her face, which sent a jolt of lightning shooting through his entire body, and he stood there, completely frozen. Basha never cried. Never once had she shed a tear, not even after her miscarriages. His wife did not cry, she did not admit weakness, she did not show any emotion that would leave her open to attacks that she was not Spartan enough, not strong enough, not good enough.

“Are you done, Ulysseus?”

He narrowed his gaze at the almost imperious tone of her voice, as if he was the one who now carried another man’s child, and not she.

“Because if you are done then maybe you will hear me when I say that I have never
once
taken a lover—
No!
” she said with the vehement shake of her head when he opened his mouth to deny what was an obvious lie. “You spoke, so now it is my turn. Zenos is a bit taken with me, and I used his obvious crush to draw him to me, but I have never once been intimate with him, not even so much as a kiss. Now, I will not deny that I went to the baths that day to do just as you believed, just as I will not pretend that I did not consider taking a lover, but I never went through with it, and the hour we spent at the baths… Well, we ended up bathing,
separately
, in the designated chambers for men and women. And yes, we came and left together, but that was all.”

He snorted. “You expect me to believe that? Your obsession with having a child was so all-consuming that it became almost frightening. You once accused me of not wanting to talk to you about this matter, that I did not care as strongly as you did about having a child, but that was simply not true. It was your apparent lack of regard for me and my desires that I could not stomach. It was
you
who decided we should take lovers, it was
you
who thought this was for the best, but not once did you ask me how I felt. Not once did you even think to discuss this matter with
me
, your
husband
. “

“I was only trying to offer a solution that I thought was best,” she said through her tears.

“That
you
thought was best. Not us.
You.”

His quiet words seemed to find purchase somewhere deep inside her and a fresh wave of tears poured from her eyes. He wanted to reach out and drag her into his arms, quiet the storm raging in her gaze, ease the pain etched across her face, but he couldn’t. Maybe later, maybe when he’d calmed down, but in that moment all he could think of was that he loved a woman who was so selfish, so self-centred, that she would openly disregard his feelings.

“I am sorry, Ulysseus. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you, wanting to be the best wife for you—”

“Why can you not see? I never wanted you to be the
best
wife, the perfect wife. I simply wanted you to be you.”

She nodded slowly, her voice so soft that he could barely hear it when she said, “I know that now. I began to realise that while you were gone.”

She stepped towards him, but, just as before, he moved away from her, until she stopped. He could see the pain his withdrawal caused her, but he could not stomach the thought of her touching him. The closer she got, the harder it was to ignore the physical evidence that she was with child, that she’d lain with another man.

“I also realised I made a lot of mistakes,” she continued. “But I swear to you that I do love you, Ulysseus. If you would just give us a chance, I know we could start over—”

“Whose child is it?” he blurted out abruptly. That was the question that had been burning in the back of his mind. If not Zenos, then who was it who had made love to his wife, who had given her the son or daughter that should have rightfully been his to give her?

She blinked as if she didn’t understand the language he spoke before she said slowly, “Ulysseus, I told you I did not take a lover—”

“Truly, Basha, just tell me the truth. Maybe I could forgive you and we could start over as you want—”

“I
am
telling you the truth. The child that I carry is yours.” She trembled before him, her hands clenching into fists, as her grey eyes turned silver with fury.

Her fury fed his. How dare she be upset for what was an obvious question, and now she had the audacity to lie again?

“I do not believe you.”

Her nostrils flared. “Well then you can just get out.”

“What?” he sputtered, his eyes widening.

“If you do not believe me then how could you stand to look at me, stand to share the same space with me, let alone a bed?” she mocked, the biting edge in her voice like ice to his ears. “I know you have no desire to be near me since I am such a liar, so get out of our home and do not come back until our son or daughter
is born.”

He lifted his brows, noticing for the first time that she had said
daughter
. Before, when Basha had talked of having a child, it had only been of having a son. He wanted a son too, but would have been just as happy with a girl, but Basha had been very clear that only sons would do—the perfect Spartan soldiers. The fact that she could bring herself to even say daughter told him some things had indeed changed in his absence, but her wilful stubbornness wasn’t one of them.

“What do you mean get out and do not come back until our child is born?” He swept his gaze over her. “That does not appear to be for another four moons—”

“Five. Five moons,” she corrected.

He scowled. Four, five—it was still too long to be living outside his home. “Where am I supposed to live?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t particularly care. Go stay with Thanos. He owes you a favour since we took him in. Then there’s always the barracks.”

He blanched.
The barracks?
He hadn’t stayed in those for many
annos
and he’d promised himself he never would unless he absolutely had to. He stared at his wife, with her rigid stance and unyielding glare, thinking that maybe this was to be one of those times.

“Basha, this is ridi—”

“I am also asking that you do not take a lover while you are gone.” Her voice was quiet, and her eyes had softened but only just a small measure. She seemed almost embarrassed as her gaze darted around the room, landing on every other thing in there but him. “I—I know what you
think
I did, and that the thought of touching me makes you cringe, but I am begging you not to take a lover while I carry your child.”

Cringe? Not exactly. He was furious with her, but he was starting to believe that she was telling the truth. Even if he discovered she wasn’t, Basha had to know that there was nothing about her that made him cringe. Their issues had always been ones of communication and trust. His desire for her had never waned, and he reasoned that it never would.

“I agree not to take a lover,” he said softly as he stepped towards her.