Warrior Enchanted: The Sons of the Zodiac
Read Warrior Enchanted: The Sons of the Zodiac Online
Authors: Addison Fox
Praise for Addison Fox’s
Sons of the Zodiac Series
Warrior Betrayed
“A great series…Montana and Quinn are a great pair and the sensuality is contagious. Ms. Fox is definitely an author to watch.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
“An absolutely breathtaking journey from start to finish…Sexy, action-packed, and just plain impossible to put down. If you enjoy paranormal romance with the lure of mythology, this is definitely a winner….A highly enjoyable read—perfect for the beach, on the couch, or in bed snuggling under the blankets.”
—Romance Junkies
Warrior Avenged
“Alpha heroes, strong heroines, paranormal plots, gods and goddesses, and terrific storytelling await you. Don’t delay. Try these books today!”
—The Good, the Bad, and the Unread
“Addison Fox has given her readers one more Warrior to fall in love with…a fantastic series.”
—The Romance Dish
“Powerful and sexy…with a twist of Greek mythology that is exciting and fun.”
—Fresh Fiction
“Intriguing and promising. These ultimate alpha men are hardheaded and love hard.”
—The Romance Readers Connection
Warrior Ascended
“A powerful romance.”
—
Publishers Weekly
“Promises plenty of action, treachery, and romance!”
—
Romantic Times
“Will keep you turning the pages and begging for more. A great start to a promising paranormal series!”
—Fresh Fiction
“Fox is a voice to be reckoned with…. Filled with suspense that will have the reader turning pages until the wee hours of the morning.”
—Reader to Reader Reviews
Also by Addison Fox
T
HE
S
ONS OF THE
Z
ODIAC
S
ERIES
Warrior Ascended
Warrior Avenged
Warrior Betrayed
A
LASKAN
N
IGHTS
N
OVELS
Baby It’s Cold Outside
ENCHANTED
THE SONS OF THE ZODIAC
ADDISON FOX
SIGNET ECLIPSE
Published by New American Library, a division of
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
First published by Signet Eclipse, an imprint of New American Library,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
First Printing, May 2012
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN: 978-1-101-58528-3
Copyright © Frances Karkosak, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
SIGNET ECLIPSE and logo are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
Printed in the United States of America
PUBLISHER’S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
In loving memory of Rose Milardo
Mom
to Chris, Ellen, Greg, Andrew, Margaret, Heather and Mark.
Rose Marie
to a true hero.
Grammy
to two beautiful grandchildren, who carry many of your gifts, most especially your smile.
Rosey
to two brothers who’ve bookended you in age, height and mischief (not to mention lively Friday evenings at the A&P). And to your family, who never spent more than a minute in your company before being enfolded in a tight hug.
Rose
to an exceptional number of friends, whom you’ve always treated as though they were family.
Mrs. Milardo
to decades of students who now love science just a little bit more because of your love for the world around us.
Regardless of the name by which you were called, you’ve touched each and every one of our lives with your love. I can think of no more fitting way to describe your beautiful light than to quote the immortal words of the Wizard of Oz:
“A heart is not judged by how much you love, but by how much you are loved by others.”
A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
My deepest thanks to:
Holly Root and Kerry Donovan—your belief in my work is matched only by your ability to help me make it better.
The marketing team at NAL—you bring to life the ideas in my head, and your amazing work leaves me in humbled awe. One of my most favorite moments is when I open my e-mail to find a new cover. You outdo yourselves each and every time! And Kayleigh Clark, thank you for working so hard on my behalf to bring my work to readers.
The Writer Foxes—Alice, Lorraine, Jo, Tracy, Kay, Suzanne, Julie, Sandy and Jane. There’s no one I’d rather be on this journey with than you guys.
And to Tracy Garrett—your love, friendship and support mean so very much. And your understanding that wine can only make the day better ensures you are one of the most enjoyable people to share a bottle with. Here’s to the Ledson!
Pisces Warrior
Compassionate and sensitive, mysterious and always charming, the Pisces Warrior will often surprise others with the depths of his emotions. Thoughtful and devoted, deep inside his quiet reserve beats the heart of a leader.
Ruled by mystery yet capable of decisive action, he will vanquish his enemies with swift, determined justice.
My Pisces rules with his heart, trusting in his feelings as he trusts the tide to come in and out each day. He is adaptable to the ever-shifting currents that swirl around him, all the while seeking the best in others and himself.
The woman who will capture him is the woman who understands him. Who accepts him. Who allows him to be exactly what he is—a dreamer with a Warrior’s soul. For the woman who can love him just as he is will find a love that returns to her a thousandfold…
—The Diaries of Themis, Goddess of Justice
Prologue
May 334 BC
Where the Dardanelles and the Aegean Sea meet…
D
racas, the fiercest Warrior of Alexander the Great, lay on the banks of the Aegean Sea, the water lapping at his worn boots.
How long he’d lain there, he had no idea, but the soft lash of waves comforted him as he slowly cataloged the pain ravaging his body.
“The dragon,” his fellow Warriors called him. If they could only see him now, he thought bitterly as he rolled to his back.
Fire consumed the right side of his body, and he reached for the wound that throbbed from the center of his hip down to his thigh. Unwilling to give in to the pain, he pressed harder at the injury, not surprised to realize it had become infected in his mindless walk toward the sea.
The sounds of battle still rang in his ears along with
Alexander’s sole command—no mercy—as he tried to piece together the last several days. Rubbing his hands over his cheeks, he estimated five to six days based on his growth of beard, the coarse sand on his fingers abrading his skin.
For years, he’d followed his leader with blind faith and devotion, losing count of the number of men he felled in the long hours of battle.
No mercy
.
Until recently, this blind devotion had defined him.
And until this last battle, he’d thought himself infallible.
The Persian warrior had lain in wait for him. Had waited until the precise moment he had a clean shot and leaped with his sword. Pain seared Dracas’s flesh anew as he remembered the downward slash of the sword, the dark glee in the soldier’s eyes.
No mercy
.
Without warning, a soft murmuring of his name on the breeze captured his attention, dragging his mind from the ravages of battle. Was it possible? Could it be the woman his fellow soldiers had spoken of in hushed whispers?
Themis. The woman who made immortals.
Since hearing of her great gifts, he’d longed to see her face. Longed to pledge his service to her, even as it meant a betrayal of Alexander.
A soft voice called to him once more, and Dracas struggled to his feet.
He took no more than a few steps—not even enough to escape the lapping of the sea’s waves—when she materialized in front of him.
Long red hair framed her face and fell down her back in brilliant waves. Her slender form was clad in a white robe that covered her straight back and stiff shoulders.
“You are she,” he exhaled on a wondrous sigh, “the one I have looked for.” She was more beautiful than he could have ever imagined, yet to his surprise his body didn’t respond with desire.
He felt only the desperate need to prove himself worthy.
“Aye, I am.”
“Why are you here?”
“You seek me, do you not?”
“They say you do not allow men to seek you. That you seek them.”
She nodded. “That is not entirely true. But if others believe it and it discourages them from looking for me, then so be it. They were not meant for the journey.”
“They also say you take men as they are dying.”
A nearly imperceptible lift of her shoulders. “I find men in many ways. Some as they near death. Some in their prime. And again, the select few who seek me.”
“And which am I?”
“You are a seeker, Dracas.”
He gingerly touched the wound at his side. “I am also near death.”
“Hardly so. Your body fights the wound and you will heal. You will resume your life.”
“Death does not await me this day?”
“Not this day, warrior of Alexander.”
He’d searched for her for so many long years. Over campfires, he’d listened for any hints of who she was
and on the brief absences from Alexander’s campaigns he’d sought her.