Earth Borne (24 page)

Staring at the ground beside him, he steadied his trembling fists. He was Lucian’s sire; therefore, he possessed the rights to his son. No matter what, that was truth. The Prince would not seize his son, regardless of any agreement his wife had made. His heart pounded, as though screaming to be heard.
She would do no such thing.

Fire burned in his vision as he lowered his glare once again to rest on the scoundrel.

“You will not touch my son.” Authority echoed in his voice, surprising even himself with how like his father he sounded. This time the bastard had the decency to cower a little.

The Portal behind him shimmered, revealing Kalliste’s form. Thereus caught the glint of his dangerous grin reflecting back at him. “Ah, there is my dear wife, come to set you straight.” He shifted his attention off Philaeus to rest on Kalliste. Her face grew as pale as ice. Instantly, he regretted this meeting, the pain it must be causing her.

Her brother, however, peered past her, at the Portal.

Thereus opened his arms and waited for his mate to claim shelter within his embrace.

Very slightly, Kalliste shook her head. He puffed at the odd behavior both siblings exhibited.

Philaeus spun on his heel. “Well, where is she?”

“As you see her,” he grumbled, sweeping his hand toward Kalliste.

A sharp and evil menace flashed in his eyes. “Oh no, don’t tell me…” He snickered. “You mean to tell me this whore is your wife?” He pointed in disgust at Kalliste.

“Of course she’s my wife.” She grew paler by the second. Damn. Why wouldn’t she come to him? He cursed and stormed past the Prince. She must be in too much shock. Her gentle nature possessed no defense against such cruelty.

Philaeus’s words in his ears stilled his steps. “Pray tell, where is my sister, Kalliste?”

The pieces snapped together. The inkling he’d once had, though subdued, rose again. Could it be? Had she deceived him? Was this creature before him not his wife?

“I-I don’t know.” He stumbled out the words, his pride deflated. Those tender moments, the secret thoughts he hadn’t shared with anyone else, were they lies? He blinked at his wife. “Kalliste?” he pleaded.
Gods, don’t let it be true.

She shook her head ever so slightly. “No.”

“Do not concern yourself, Thereus.” Philaeus closed the distance between him and the false Kalliste. “She’s an expert seductress.” His smirk of even, white teeth gleamed with menace. “After all, I trained her myself. Didn’t I, my lovely Melita?”

“Did you miss me, wench?” He swaggered to her, cupped her chin, and wrenched her toward him, planting a vile kiss upon her lips. Instead of fighting his kiss, the woman stood still until he pulled away, scoffing. “See? Nothing but a harlot who would mate with any man,” he eyed Thereus, “Or beast.”

Thereus’s horse reared, but his human half absorbed the betrayal, the deception. His legs froze.
She’s not Kalliste.
She’d deceived him of her true identity, and who knew what else? Did she even care for him?

“Well,
hmm
? Where is my sister, whore?” Still gripping her chin. Philaeus thumbed the lips he’d assaulted. She didn’t answer him, so he raised his other hand to strike her.

A growl arose from Thereus’s throat, his horse rising to her defense despite the broken faith of the man deceived.

Philaeus glowered at Thereus and dropped his hand. “Never mind, I shall uncover the truth.”

Before Thereus blinked twice, the Prince’s men seized the woman, who didn’t struggle as they hauled her through the Portal, Philaeus retreating with them.

His head reeling from these revelations, Thereus sank to the ground. The Portal shimmered and they were gone, bringing him for the first time in his life to his knees, gasping for air.

Chapter 22

What the hell was going on? Thereus shoved his hands through his hair, staring at the Portal. The woman hadn’t even struggled.

She’s a nymph…
Could she have even defended herself?
She did with the wolves.
Aye, because his love had given her the strength. In this moment, he’d not been strong for her. His horse screamed at him to rescue his mate.
Melita.
He let out a hysterical laugh as he grasped the absurdity of her true name.

His bruised ego was equally stubborn. He remained where he was and tried, unsuccessfully, not to consider what happened. His horse stomped its hooves across his pride, rearing and demanding him to storm through the Portal after her.

Hooves clanked to his right. He glimpsed Alkippe’s strained face. She snarled at him and slapped him hard across his right cheek. Then his left. She raised her hand to strike him again.

This time he’d recovered enough to grab her arm. “What in Hades are you doing, Alkippe?”

“Well, someone had to knock sense into you, Thereus.” Not since he’d been a lad had she spoken to him thus.

“Mind your place, housekeeper.”

“I am,” she snarled back. “I’m trying to
keep
this
house
together. This family together. Why aren’t you?” The accusation in her tone cut through him.

“She betrayed me. Lied to me.” He scowled at the marble tiles on the floor. “I don’t even know who she is.”

She softened. “Aye, you do, milord. She’s your mate. That’s all you need to know. That evil man could be doing anything to her.”

“Mayhap she deserves it.” He snorted, instantly regretting the words. Her brother wasn’t hurting her, was he? Melita, if such was her true name, had probably been scheming with her brother this entire time.

Argh!
He was so bloody confused, he simply shook his head at her. The centauress would confess everything. “Would you care to explain to me what the bloody hell happened?” Either she’d talk, or he’d toss her in the dungeon.

“Thereus,” she employed her tone for admonishing children, “Melita is Kalliste’s half-sister. After you left, Kalliste died in childbirth to Lucian. The child needed a mother, so I, yes,
I
convinced Melita to take her place.”

Kalliste was dead? He scrubbed his hands across his face.

Alkippe patted his arm. “Someone had to rule this castle, or goodness knows what would have happened to us. Melita didn’t seek to deceive anyone. She’s always loved you. Her affection was not false. If you allow your ego to rule your heart in this, there is the true betrayal.”

“Why did I never meet her? Where did she come from?” This was all so bloody confusing.

“She arrived with Kalliste and employed a cloaking enchantment to conceal herself, until… Well, until by accident, you caught the scent of her one eve. Recall that, milord?” She raised her brows. “The maiden you claimed in the stairwell? The one you discarded right before you abandoned us?
That
was Melita.”

He cringed beneath Alkippe’s harsh words. Although he’d had an inkling of the same conclusion, to hear it aloud struck him with the truth. He rubbed at his bonding mark, cinching around his bicep, its grip tightening with each agonizing breath his lungs drew in. “Melita.” Her name burned in his throat, a liquid fire forged from his sins.

“She was your mate. You must have sensed it. Yet you abandoned her and her unborn child.”

His head whipped up at her words. “What child?”

“Her babe died at childbirth. Lucian was without a mother. How could I not put them together?” She tsked. “Such a clear message from the Fates.”

He sank with a groan of lamentation. His crimes were even more unforgivable than he’d imagined. One night and he’d ruined so many lives. He’d had another child. One he’d never meet. He blinked away his pain. In this moment, he had no right to claim it.

As Thereus played out what happened, his mate’s actions made sense. Though what she’d done had been unlawful, her reasons were true. It was, in fact, he who was responsible for this. Had he controlled his urges better, had he been a man of honor and not run away, their lives would be different.

He sighed deeply, wishing she’d trusted him enough to tell him the truth. That she’d so long kept this from him hurt more than the secret itself. Though he fathomed why. By centaur law, she should be executed. Hadn’t he told her as much? He grimaced, recalling his “no quarter given” speech.

“Well?” His housekeeper’s sharp tone broke through his musings.

Right.
He leapt to his feet. “Indeed, Alkippe. Time to sort this out later. I have a mate to rescue.”

“Finally.” She beamed at him before he sprinted for the Portal.

***

Her brother showed no gentle hand as he dragged Melita to where his men were waiting with horses. She wasn’t surprised Thereus didn’t follow them.

A voice deep inside her whispered, stirring treacherous thoughts. She was his bonded mate, it mattered not what else she was. He should have defended her against everything. He should not have let her be taken. No bonded male, or decent husband, would have done so.

She stifled a cry of frustration. Of humiliation. Of loss. None of this would have happened if bonded males did exist. This was her proof they were a myth.

They traveled away from Westgard, until the sun set, and they made camp for the night.

Alone inside Philaeus’s tent, she beat her desperation down deeper, far inside her where it wouldn’t haunt her. In truth, she’d betrayed Thereus in the most horrendous of ways. She deserved to be punished for her crimes.

As if fulfilling her prediction, Philaeus slithered into his tent.

“Well, sister, I must say…” He sneered at her as he peeled off his gloves. “Well-played. Kalliste was a fool for bringing you with her. Truly, neither of us accounted for your crafty nature. To think, you’ve even deceived Lord Thereus!” He clapped his hands in mock applause.

Her stomach roiled and she covered her mouth with her hand to suppress her despair. Would Alkippe convince her mate of the truth? She prayed yes.

Melita glared at her brother, trying to retain her anger, lest the fear underneath it rise. He was a cruel, bitter man. Capable of horrors which would make even the gods cringe. He oversaw the tortures in the castle dungeon. What he did to her years ago, with his rowdy soldiers, was mere child’s play compared with what she was certain he planned for her.

Philaeus strode to one corner and plucked a silver instrument hanging from a belt. She averted her face, not caring what he would use to torture her with.

“Melita, you will tell me everything, one way or another. Starting with, where is my sister?” His voice was cold. No mercy for her tonight.

Even worse, Kalliste was dead. Her body had been placed on a funeral pyre, lit and set out on the Peneios River, as was the royal custom of their people. Nothing remained of her body. No proof of how she’d died. Even so, Melita would tell him the truth. “Kalliste died in childbirth to Lucian.”

His eyes smoldered with Tartarus’s fires. “You lying whore. I shall tear out your tongue first.” He toyed with the instrument in his hand. “She was a Princess.” He spat out the words. “If what you claim is true, she deserved so much more than what you gave her.”

“She had a proper burial.”

He snarled. “Proper? Without her father, her brother to mourn her passing?”

Despite herself, she let out a sob. It was so true. Her sister might’ve been spoiled and selfish, but no one deserved what Melita had done.

“Forgive me.” She hung her head, defeat weighting her body. Time for her to face her crimes. Embrace her punishment. At least she might be free of this stone of guilt inside her.

“No.” He struck the side of her head. Melita staggered on all fours, her head spinning from the blow. As a child, she’d grown accustomed to beatings at her brother’s hands. He’d blamed her for ruining his father’s marriage, for driving the Queen into madness and the King to neglect. And then, to her murder.

“Don’t you dare shed tears, or pretend she meant anything to you. Your heart is cold, nymph. You’ll not convince anyone otherwise. No plea can save you. I
will
avenge my sister. What I have planned for you will be far worse than death.”

With fingers as unforgiving as daggers, he forced her gaze to meet his. In those hollow depths, no atonement existed for the sins Philaeus perceived she’d committed against him. Only her shed blood would satisfy him.

She allowed him to kick her side, and grew limp in his hands as he picked her up and threw her across the tent. As she refused to cry out while he struck her repeatedly, bruising and battering her body, the will to live seeped from her. She’d never done anything right. Except… Lucian. She wheezed, tasting the copper of her blood on her lips. Lucian. What would become of him?

“I would love to end your miserable existence and let Hades determine your eternal punishment, but I’ve higher orders. When I hand you over to
him
, you’ll wish I had killed you instead.”

“You’re not going to kill me?” Who could be worse than Philaeus? One of his soldiers? Her heart pulsed with sluggish beats through her veins and the tips of her fingers became ice cold.

He ignored her question, letting out a sinister laugh. “I’ll claim Lucian as my heir and remove him from these beasts. I’d rather not have a centaur for an heir, yet I’ve no choice. I’ll beat the barbarian out of him,” he snickered.