Balance Of The Worlds (8 page)

Would the older woman be capable of assuming rule?

Would there be anything left of Evalanedea
to
rule? For her children to inherit?

“Perhaps. But the children are as much Levian and Gaian as they are Evalanedean. Do not forget that.”

“I have forgotten nothing.” But he had. The last of his nasty little spell dissipated. Her hands were free.

She couldn’t help herself, she rammed both hands into the hard abdomen, putting a bit of her own magic behind the blow. He doubled over.

She took her mother’s sword from him and thought about clubbing him over the head with it.

Seriously.

He was still green, but he stood up. “You should not have done that.”

“Why?”

“Because then I am forced to do this. This house has wards around it, to protect me—and all of my bloodline—from attack. And you attacked. I have yet to put the wards up to prevent harm from coming to you.”

The bushes around them were rustling, growing. Thorned vines were extending. Gathering closer to her. She stepped nearer to him.

He laughed. The sound went right through her; her anger continued to grow. Her own power burned beneath her skin.

Lothonos smirked again. He waved a hand at them. “You even try to strike out at me, and you will not enjoy the results.”

“And what will you do, spank me for my impertinence? I think not.”

“If a spanking is what you wish, I will give you one. I have never spanked a female before. But you have a rather luscious ass. I will make a point of starting with you.”

She looked at him. He meant it, didn’t he? “You’ll never touch me again, Lotho.”

“And yet you have practically crawled up my chest—to escape a
plant.
You, goddess of the plants, are afraid of a bush.” His hands wrapped around her back again, and he lifted her. “They will not hurt you—as long as you are in my arms. I shall carry you inside, where you will be safe and protected.”

“Tucked away with the children, while the big strong male goes to war? I did not think you a chauvinist; chauvinism defies logic, after all.” She did not want to cling to him, but every time she moved, the damned branches around them rustled.

If she held still, so did they.

He carried her into the back hall of his home. It was beautiful inside; she’d never been there before. Lothonos kept the other gods and goddesses out of his personal space. Whenever they’d met for matters of the worlds—he moved freely through far more of the different worlds than she did—he would insist it be at the palace where Eiophon was imprisoned.

Lothonos’ place was a mix of blues and purples and greens, colors that were echoes of Levia’s atmosphere. It was beautiful, and not nearly as cold and emotionless as she would have expected. The light blue stone walls were offset by dark purple woods that were native to the forests surrounding his home. It was warm; almost inviting.

Servants, Lothon Druids all, were quietly attending their tasks. How many did he have? She’d always thought he hid himself away when he wasn’t with Eiophon. Perhaps she had misjudged him in that way?

“Put me down.”

He complied, but he wrapped his fingers around both her wrists again. They were as good as bound with rope. He was a powerful Druid, and she would never forget that.

She wasn’t entirely certain she matched him in supernatural strengths at all.

“Stay close to me.”

She wasn’t delusional. It was an order, no doubt. She wanted to chastise him for thinking he had the right, but he had the one incentive she would always wish for. “Where are they?”

“In the nursery, of course. Your women are with them. This way. But first, we must inform my people of your status.”

“And just what is that?”

“Consider yourself a political prisoner. There will be no ransom negotiation, though.” He wrapped visible ropes around her wrists and slung her over his shoulder again. He marched through his hall, her bound and helpless, for all to see. She could feel the pride in himself thrumming through his body. Damn him.

“You think keeping me prisoner will serve you well?” she asked after he’d put her back on her feet and removed the ropes. “I have those who will come after me.”

“And I have those who will fight them. You are
mine.
And it is here that you will stay.”

At the expression on his face, she shivered.

For the first time, Nelciana wondered if the Druid god was far more dangerous than she’d ever thought.

You cannot keep me in here forever, Lotho. I am a goddess, as well, and I have a Kind dependent upon me in the uncertainties that are to come.”

“Then you should not have traveled through the barriers to another world when your people need you so greatly.”

His cool tone was so infuriating Nelciana wanted to scream, to yell at him to just show
some
emotion for once.

But that would be a useless waste of her breath—he was the god of
logic
for a reason. And that reason didn’t include emotions.

She’d known that long before they’d lay down together—why did it anger her so now? She knew that he would not change, so why did she care?

“You cannot keep me here. There will be a fallout, if not from Erasomophus and the rest of the Gaian House, then from the others. The Laquazzeana will intervene—”

“Have someone else fighting your battles, already? More proof that you should not have left.”

“How is that proof? You want to protect the worlds for our babes, why shouldn’t I do my part?”

He stared at her, and for a moment she reveled in the fact that she’d stumped him. “Your part is keeping
them
safe from the worlds. My part is keeping the worlds safe for them.”

“Lotho, it doesn’t always work that way.”

“Maybe not, but I will make my best attempt. There is nothing else I can do. This suite was designed for you. The nursery is close, and my suite is directly across the hall. If you need me for anything.”

“I won’t.”

“As you wish, then.” He started for the door then stopped, turned back to look at her. “Nelciana, I know you are angry with me, but in time you’ll realize this was the best decision. The babes need their mother, far more than the world needs another witch.”

“Lotho, I am
both.
And I can be no other way.”

She was plotting something against him; Lothonos did not doubt it. She was biding her time until she could escape him.
He did not doubt that there would be those who came for her. But he would stop them.

Did she think him so foolish to not have considered attacks upon his home? He had spent the past century working on safeguards for the children, in addition to those that had long been in place.

He was the god of predictions, strategy, logic, possibilities. Odds were high that his home would eventually be targeted.

Lothonos was confident that his home was as close to impenetrable as it was possible.

Only the fires of the Three Hells would be strong enough to make even a dent in his safeguards. “Do you wish to see our babes, or not?”

“Of course I do.”

He smiled. She would tolerate any treatment, wouldn’t she, if it meant being with their children? Was it wrong of him to use that against her, if it was for her own well-being? “Then follow me. Our children await.”

She walked beside him. He actually felt a bit bereft that he was no longer carrying her.

Nelciana had smelled like sun, and earth, and wildflowers and her body had curved against his so perfectly. Hard had met soft, the way it was supposed to.

Now she walked beside him, impatience in her steps. Her hands were free of his ropes, but the magical bindings remained. He carried the sword himself.

“Second floor.” Lothonos led the way to the stairs and then waited for her to climb them in front of him.

The trousers, Dardaptoan
pardus
instead of her customary long robes, were better suited for travel in Relaklonos, and the pair she wore were a bit too tight on her curved hips.

From the angle he was at it became very clear that she was not wearing any undergarments.

Only a thin piece of cloth separated him from the soft skin of her ass.

Had he touched her there when they had made the babes? Lothonos did not remember.

They had kept the lighting low, and he had ensured everything was soft, and gentle, and smooth. He’d forced himself to be mindful of both their purposes in the act—and the fact that she had been virgin.

Perhaps his lack of passion that day had been a mistake? Perhaps he should have let his desires free so that she could have learned of what his true nature was long ago?

Why had he not felt this burning for her then? What had changed between them?

Something most definitely had.

The nursery took up the entire east wing of the second floor. Her breath came faster as they got closer to the babes. Like all deities, they could sense the children whenever they were near. They entered the nursery.

Nella was cooing, from the arms of the woman that held her. Jordan looked up, relief visible on her face the moment she recognized Nelciana. “My lady! You are safe.”

“Yes, I am.”

“We were worried,” Brynnja said from where she sat, holding Dres as he fussed. “And the cub—babies missed you.”

“I have missed them. Oh, how I have missed them.”

It had been just a little under twenty-four hours, hadn’t it? Why were they acting as it had been so long?

He freed her hands from the enchantment that had her bound and she took their daughter into her arms.

Her body softened, her face started to glow.
This
was the goddess of family, the patron mother of all Druids, all Levians, and many Gaians.

And perhaps Evelanedeans?

He crossed the room and took his son. Holding the children was not natural for him; they were too small and fragile, though the beginnings of their powers were noticeable. But natural or not, this was his son.

And there wasn’t anything Lothonos wouldn’t do for Dres or his sister.

The girl babe was a carbon copy of her mother, beautiful in every way. Dres…the boy looked exactly like Lothonos. That gave him pause whenever he looked at his son.

Pride in the children was inevitable, of course, but he hadn’t expected to love them so much.

Nelciana was rocking and cooing, the soft sounds touching something in Lothonos.

Had he ever been treated like that? He did not remember.

Families in the Gaian House of Deities were not like those of humans. Connections existed, but that did not mean that relationships or emotions developed.

He was close to his cousin Eiophon, and Eiophon’s brother Acylias, but the rest of their family was spread throughout the worlds.

His own father had disappeared more than ten thousand years ago, stating that the population growth of humans and other Kinds were too much for him. Druids were notorious for their desire to avoid others.

His mother had retreated somewhere as well, taking Eiophon’s mother with her. No one knew where any of them were.

Lothonos hadn’t really cared to find them again.

She contented herself with her babes; they were her greatest gift and her greatest joy. If the specter of the approaching war slipped into her mind, Nelciana ruthlessly pushed it away.

Her time with her children was so infinitely precious, she wouldn’t trade a moment of it for anything.

“My lady, will we remain here? It does not seem as secure as Av.” Brynnja asked from where she sat lazily staring out the window over the Levian countryside. Nelciana had wasted no time after Lothonos left the nursery. She had her babes and held them close. “Even with the forests near and the mountains surrounding this place.”

“He is the god of logic and strategy, Brynnja. Lothonos will be able to keep us safe here. Of
that
I have no doubt.” She would give him that much; he was perfectly capable of keeping them safe for the time-being.

“Do you think the Dark Sorcerer will come here?” Jordan asked. She cuddled Dres on the nursery rug.

Nelciana had told both women that they did not have to stay with her and the babes if they did not choose to. Lothonos had had them two rooms assigned on either side of the beautiful suite he’d designed for the babes.

But they were faithful to her and had insisted on staying with her until Whin was able to return to her.

Nelciana was appreciative of the company.

She hadn’t seen Lothonos in more than twenty-four hours. And she’d tried several times to find him. He had somehow managed to avoid her each time.

He was the god of strategy, after all.

She had yet to figure out how to find him in this convoluted maze of a house, nor had she figured out what she would say—or do—to him when she did.