Awakened (Eternal Guardians Book 8) (33 page)

The memory of her riding him on the altar in that temple filled his mind, and his cock thickened with the need to have her do it again.

She leaned back into the room and kissed his cheek. “I’ll find you tomorrow when you least expect it. Forbidden secret rendezvous might be fun.”

He chuckled as she climbed out the window and disappeared into the dark, imagining just what she could be planning for him tomorrow.

“Cerek?” Ari called from the other room again.

“Yeah,” he managed over the sound of the running water behind him. “I’m okay. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

His smile faded as he closed the pane. The energy was already growing stronger now that he was alone. The one urging him to do something or go somewhere he didn’t understand. As much as he wanted to believe it was a pull toward Elysia, something in the back of his head warned whatever this was, it had absolutely nothing to do with her.

And he had no idea if that was good or bad.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

K
neeling in front of the ottoman near the crackling fire, Zagreus cringed as Atropos lifted her gnarled, wrinkled feet onto the silver satin pillow he’d just plumped.

“What are you waiting for, Ziggy?” The Fate wiggled her twisted toes as she reclined in her overstuffed chair. “These nails aren’t gonna trim themselves.”

Bile rose in Zagreus’s throat as he reached for the clippers and went to work cutting Atropos’s thick yellow nails. For an immortal deity, one would think she’d take better care of herself. Then again, why would she bother? She had “Ziggy” around to do everything for her.

Fucking Hades…

“I think now is definitely the best time,” Clotho said, reaching for her goblet of wine from the coffee table. “If you wait much longer, you’re going to miss your window of opportunity.”

Beside Clotho on the couch, Lachesis sighed. “Perhaps. The queen is planning a welcome-home festivity for Cerek and Elysia tonight. I’ll need to intercede before that. Aristokles can’t accept the healer’s assessment of Cerek. He’s taking Cerek to see his home in the mountains today, hoping the familiarity will trigger his memories. I could wait for a moment to catch him alone there, when his father is preoccupied.”

“That’s the dumbest idea you’ve had yet,” Zagreus muttered as he snipped a nail.

“What’s that, Ziggy?” Atropos lifted her white brows. “You say something’?”

Zagreus knew he should bite his tongue, but he just couldn’t anymore. These old hags took meddling to the nth degree, and more often than not, their efforts produced zero results.

“You’re damn right I said something.” He lowered his hands to the ottoman. “The dude clearly doesn’t understand what it means to be an Argonaut. He’s already wigged out enough. You show up in your diaphanous robes, floating off the ground, pulling that glowing-eye thing, and rambling incoherently, and you’re gonna push him right over the edge into looney-land.”

Lachesis and Clotho exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“Gryphon was more unstable than Cerek,” Clotho said, “and he turned out fine.”

Zagreus snorted. “That’s still up for debate. That dude will forever be fucked in the head from Atalanta’s shit. But regardless, you all didn’t let Lachesis mess with Gryphon until he’d already figured things out for himself. Not to mention,” Zagreus went on even though he knew he shouldn’t, “if your goal is to make sure Zeus doesn’t win now, interceding with Cerek here is only going to guarantee the sonofabitch god
does
win.”

“How do you figure?” Atropos asked with narrowed eyes.

Gods, he was surrounded by morons. And
these
were the wisest and most powerful beings in the cosmos? “Because Cerek’s already over the moon for that princess. He’s not going to leave Argolea no matter what you say.”

He went back to trimming Atropos’s nails with a scowl.

“What would you have us do in this situation?” Lachesis asked.

“I’d stay the fuck out of it. Let things play out. Maybe he’ll wise up on his own.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

Zagreus shrugged and moved to Atropos’s other foot. “Then I’d just deal with it. Your meddling hasn’t changed anything in, like, thirty years, has it? Yeah, that bitch Atalanta might be dead, but not because of your influence. The gods are all still scrambling for power. The threat of war is still imminent. And have you influenced one soul to shift from the side of darkness to light?” Glowering, he shook his head. “Not a single one. All you’ve done is stick your noses where they don’t belong.”

The room grew quiet but for the crackle of the fire at Zagreus’s back and the snip of the clippers in his hand.

His fingers paused their work, and he looked up. All three Fates were staring at him with perplexed expressions. “What?”

Lachesis looked toward Atropos, and then Clotho, and some kind of secret communication passed between the three Fates. One that sent a warning trickle straight down Zagreus’s spine.

Fuck.
Fuuuuuck.
They were planning something. Something that had to do with him. He should have kept his big mouth shut. If there was one thing he’d learned over the past twenty-five years serving the Fates, it was that anything the old crones could come up with had nightmare written all over it for him.

Which meant he was about to get royally fucked. And not in any of the depraved ways his wicked mind could imagine.

S
oft music from the three-piece orchestra on the far side of the ballroom floated around Elysia as she smiled and shook hands. Outwardly, she was the image of the perfect princess returned home after a terrifying abduction—pale pink ball gown, slippers on her feet, a golden crown of grape leaves in her hair…smaller, of course, than her mother’s. But inside, she wanted to scream. If she had to fake one more smile or pretend she was having a good time, she was seriously going to lose it.

Her gaze drifted toward the stately columns on the edge of the ballroom and locked on Cerek, standing in the shadows next to Phineus. She’d never seen him dressed up, and every time she caught sight of him, her heart did a little flip. He wore the traditional Argonaut dress attire—dark trousers, white tunic cinched at the waist, leather breastplate decorated with the seal of his forefather, and a cloak made of differing colors based on a guardian’s lineage, which fell over his left arm and was anchored at his shoulder with a bronze leaf. Phineus’s was a bright orange. Cerek’s was a pale yellow that only made his hair and eyes look even darker.

Phineus was clearly talking, but Cerek barely seemed to be listening. His gaze was locked on Elysia, and as her eyes met his, heat pulsed through her veins. She hadn’t been able to meet up with him since last night, since he’d frantically taken her to the brink of passion with his mouth and hands and body. Her parents had kept her busy all day, first making her meet with Callia to ensure she hadn’t actually been harmed on Olympus—or by Cerek—then fitting her for this stuffy gown and insisting she help with the pre-festivity preparations. She was desperate for a few stolen moments alone with him. Desperate to feel his touch and sink into his kiss. And she was starting to think if she didn’t find a way to escape this claustrophobic party and do just that, she wasn’t going to be able to keep their relationship secret much longer.

“Elysia?”

She blinked at the sound of her mother’s voice and looked to her left. “Yes?”

The queen’s gaze skipped past Elysia, and a frown pulled at her lips. Elysia’s stomach tightened as she turned to see what her mother was looking at, and when she realized it was Cerek, her pulse jerked.

“Yes.” The queen’s voice drifted back to Elysia, and without even looking, Elysia knew her mother was smiling that fake smile she used when dealing with Council members. “We’re all very relieved to have Elysia back, Lord Eugenios.”

“As am I,” the lord answered in a deep voice. “And before any permanent damage was done.”

Elysia’s brow lowered as she turned to face the portly politician with receding gray hair. “Before what damage was done?”

Her mother sent her a scolding look.

Lord Eugenios didn’t seem to notice Elysia had even spoken. He looked past her as he lifted his arm and waved. “Ah, there’s my son now. Nereus, we’re over here.”

Great. Nereus. Elysia had almost forgotten he existed.

She steeled her nerves as the future Council member joined them. He was thinner and taller than his father, but his hair was already beginning to thin at the temples. And though Elysia guessed he was handsome enough for most—green eyes, brown hair, and a good complexion—when he reached for her hand and brought it to his lips, his palms were too soft from hours behind a desk. He wore the traditional
chison
, a crisp white shirt buttoned up to his throat with a long collar that looped from one side around his neck to drape over the opposite shoulder, and crisp black slacks, but he didn’t fill the clothes out the way Cerek would. He wasn’t muscular or commanding or heart-stopping in any way, and not for the first time, Elysia wondered what the hell her parents had been thinking when they’d considered a match for her with him.

“I’m so happy you are home,” Nereus said, lowering Elysia’s hand but refusing to let it go. “I’m sure your days on Olympus must have been absolutely frightful.”

Frightful? Was this guy for real? He was looking at her as if she were a piece of meat rather than a living person. Elysia’s fingers grew damp as an unseen pressure condensed in her chest. She had to get out of here before she screamed.

“They weren’t all that bad,” she managed. Tugging her hand from Nereus’s, she turned toward her mother. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Elysia.” Her mother reached for the sleeve of her dress, but Elysia sidestepped her hand.

“I’ll be right back.”

She made it three steps before her father moved in her way and narrowed hard, black eyes down at her. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Skata. Think fast
. “The restroom. That’s still allowed, isn’t it?”

Demetrius’s jaw clenched, and she knew she should have bitten her tongue, but she couldn’t anymore. They were treating her as if she was five instead of twenty-five. As if she knew nothing about taking care of herself when she’d kicked ass on Pandora.

“Don’t be long,” her father said after several seconds. “Everyone in this room is here for you.”

She wanted to tell him she’d take as long as she liked, but bit back the words and nodded. Her temper skyrocketed as she stepped around him, though. Everyone
should
be here for Cerek, not her. He’d been missing for twenty-five years, not two simple months. But the only people who even seemed to care were the Argonauts…and her.

Weaving through the crowd, she glanced toward the column where she’d last seen Cerek. He was still watching her, his chocolate eyes as focused and intense as ever. Her heart picked up speed as she glanced toward the doors, hoping he could read her silent plea.

“Hold on, Princess.”

Elysia startled just as she reached the open door and drew up short. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh, Titus. You scared me.”

The Argonaut was dressed in the same formal outfit Cerek wore, though his cape was blue. A few wisps of wavy dark hair framed his face, but the rest was tied with a leather strap at his nape, and he stared down at her with knowing hazel eyes. Eyes that put her on immediate alert. “What’s going on between you and Cerek?”

Elysia’s heart stuttered. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”