Earth Borne (9 page)

His grin turned mischievous. “You were right, my Lady. I should tour the village for myself. Who better to guide me than its Mistress?” He rose so his face was level with hers. “Will you do me the honor,
Melita
?”

Once again he’d stolen her voice, so she simply nodded.

“Good.” Masculine triumph flashed in his grin. “I’ll meet you at the Portal in half an hour.”

***

Thereus rubbed his hands together in eager anticipation. Today he would prove to his wife he was a gentleman. That he was civilized. She wouldn’t gawk at him again like he was a monster, this he vowed. Though it’d required a little coaxing, she agreed to offer him another chance. He hadn’t ruined everything and he must ensure he didn’t foul this up again.

She glided through the Portal with Lucian, and he didn’t utter a word about her walking, despite the beast in him resenting it greatly. His mate should ride him.

He’d hoped to spend the day alone with her, but it was better with Lucian. There’d be no opportunity to fight, or to kiss. A good thing today. He’d already observed how Kalliste’s body responded to his touch. What he must convince was her mind.

They approached the village and once again he was in shock. His feet trudged forward, while his mind twisted about, dreamlike. Westgard’s village resembled nothing like his memories.

Townspeople rushed to and fro, conducting business. On the outskirts of the village, nestled throughout the valley, lay dozens of farms. The town appeared as modern as any human village he’d seen on his travels. The shoppes were new, built of sturdy stone, with clay-colored roofs. Even the main street was made of cobblestone, not packed dirt as he’d expected.

He followed Kalliste, her small footsteps easy to keep pace with even though every few seconds he’d whip around his head, staring at whatever caught his attention.

A group of townspeople paused to mirror Kalliste’s waves, but stopped short as they spotted him. He tilted his head, and their stunned gapes morphed into palpable beams of joy.

Pain sparked in his shin. He swallowed his curse as he stumbled into the ledge of a fountain.

Mother?

Gazing upward, he bit back a flood of emotions. A life-size statue of his mother graced the middle of an elegant fountain in the center of the town. Her face, her eyes. Exactly as he remembered them. The color, a white stone so pure she almost appeared real. His mother, Queen Atalante, was one of the rare Kentaurides—female centaurs. Few of them existed, and none as beautiful as his mother had been. The alabaster stone shone brilliantly in the sun, just as she had.

He swallowed against the dryness of his throat. How he missed her.

A soft weight fell upon his arm. Kalliste.

“Your father helped me with the likeness,” she murmured. “Everyone spoke so highly of her. I know how much she meant to you. I wish I’d met her.”

He cocked his head at her.
She
did this for him? She’d erected a monument to his beloved mother? Why did she constantly challenge his beliefs about her? He’d deemed Kalliste so cold for never caring a damn about his family.

He wasn’t wrong in his assumptions. Hell, she’d refused to meet any of his siblings.

Where had this newfound appreciation for his kin come from? Was it because of Lucian? Too much contradiction beclouded her. He was losing the ability to tell up from down. There was something to be said for people changing, but it was as though she was an entirely different lass.

Well, he almost chuckled, except when she’d called him a brute. That was spot-on.

Chapter 9

Melita studied Thereus while he stared at the statue. Why did she show it to him? More importantly, why had she told him she’d commissioned the fountain? She should’ve shrugged it off as an impulse of devotion by the villagers.

Often she found herself sitting on the edge of the fountain. The Queen’s kind smile soothed her. She pretended Atalante was her mother.

Thereus had no idea how fortunate he was. How his family cherished him. She’d erected the statue as much for herself as for him, hoping to borrow some affection.

Lucian ran up and grabbed her skirts, laughing as he spun her around. With a cry, he scurried off once more, splashing into the fountain.

Beside her, Thereus chuckled heartily. “He certainly has spirit, doesn’t he?”

“You have no idea.” As his features darkened, she bit her tongue. She shouldn’t have spoken those words, shouldn’t have reminded him of his absence in Lucian’s life.

“Come, Kalliste, what would you like to show me first?” To his credit, he changed the subject to smooth the awkwardness, offering his arm. Tentatively, she placed her hand on his forearm.

“Lucian!” she called over her shoulder as she led Thereus into one of the town’s shoppes.

“Lady Kalliste!” The shopkeeper whirled around from his display.

“Good morning, Dupon.” She flashed him a warm smile. The corners of his mouth lifted, but froze as he caught sight of Thereus. “May I present my husband, Lord—”

“I know who he is,” Dupon whispered shakily. “My Lord.” He dipped into an overly eager bow.

“Aye, and I remember you too.” Thereus inclined his head. “I’m not surprised your shoppe is flourishing. It must be the most popular store in the village.” He strode to the trembling shopkeeper and offered his hand.

Dupon’s shoulders relaxed immediately. He returned the smile as he grasped Thereus’s hand. “Milord, if I do recall…” He stepped to a glass jar on the shelf to their right. Removing a sweet, he presented it to Thereus. “This is your favorite.” Dupon beamed as his Lord accepted the offering.

“Candied honeysuckle.” Thereus laughed and shook his head. “I’ve not tasted this in years.” He placed the delicate morsel on his tongue and Melita did not miss the flash of hunger in his eyes as his admiration swept over her.

Instead of indulging, she diverted her energy to Lucian while Thereus talked with Dupon. His subject prattled about his merchandise. She swung her son, in human form, onto her hip, readying to depart.

Before joining her, Thereus withdrew a bulging satchel of coins from his vest and placed the entirety on the shopkeeper’s counter. With a wave, he was out the door.

Melita scowled. She was torn between being as in awe of his generosity as Dupon was, and hating him for deeming to purchase loyalty. A deeper, more reasonable part of her poked at her, whispering she was simply jealous.

A bakery, a sweet shoppe, a tailor and a seamstress, a blacksmith, a taverna. The list went on and on. They visited every one. As her husband inspected each, the shopkeepers expressed their enthusiasm with beaming smiles. Wherever he went, the men and women gaped at him in admiration.

Observing him amongst so many other centaurs, the power of Thereus struck Melita anew. His strength was in more than his enormous form. It was in how he carried himself, the set of his shoulders, the gleam in his eye. One did not doubt for an instant that he owned everything around him.

Yet his manner did not intimidate. He didn’t thrust his power in front of everyone, gloating as they cowered at his feet.
Not like my father and Philaeus.
She grimaced. Her family absorbed the fears of everyone in their presence, consuming them like nourishment.

Thereus was magnetic. Whenever he flashed a grin at one of his subjects, they became his. If his charm alone wasn’t enough, he spent several minutes with each of them, perusing their shoppes, scanning their accounts. He praised them heartily, offered his advice, and seemingly made them feel as though he watched over them. That he was indeed their Lord and Master and would care for them.

Their adoration wrenched at her heart. She ought to be glad, but the claws of jealousy scraped at her skin.
She
brought them back from ruin. The villagers loved
her
.

Who was Thereus, to gallop in and steal their hearts? Including hers?

She’d been hoping to prove he didn’t belong. Instead, he’d fit in perfectly. How was she to make him retreat when everyone stumbled over themselves to welcome him?

***

This day was
perfect
. Thereus’s stomach had been in knots at the idea of meeting his subjects, but they
fawned
over him. He’d never been more at peace anywhere. They were like children, desperate for the attention, the love of their father.

He’d been sure to offer it, generously. Winning their hearts was effortless. Why in the hell couldn’t he capture Kalliste’s with such ease? He’d expected her to be pleased with how well his subjects received him. Instead, she grew more reserved each time he met a new shopkeeper.

“Did I do something wrong, my Lady?” They wound toward the edge of the town.

“No, of course not. I’m sure you’re pleased—”

“Bloody hell, what have I done wrong?” He halted and spun to face her. “You asked me to see them, and I
do
.” He growled. What was the cause of her foul mood?

She shrugged.

His shoulders dropped in defeat. “Why does this displease you so much?”
Why do I displease you so much?

She shook her head and scoffed, not at him but at herself. “I didn’t think they’d react like
this
.”

Finally, a true response. He whistled low. “Like what?”

“They want
you
. Every-everyone does.”

He wasn’t competing with her, though was that what she believed?

She averted her face, refusing to meet his eyes.
Everyone.
Including her? A steady grin spread across his lips. She
was
jealous. “Kalliste, they respect me. They’re loyal. But bloody hell, they
adore
you.”

Two could play at this. Leaning in, he purred, “
Everyone
does.”

***

Thereus chuckled as he scooped Lucian and tossed him over his back. With the child squealing, he sprinted to the top of a grass-covered hill.

Melita followed, hoping the cool breeze would calm the heat in her cheeks. She plucked the basket from where Thereus had dropped it, and after spreading out a blanket, she laid out the lunch they’d bought in town. Cheese, freshly baked bread, a few apples and some sweets from Dupon’s. With a conspiratorial glance at Thereus, she hid those under the basket. Their son would devour them in an instant should he stumble upon them.

Thereus winked back, then tossed Lucian in the air, caught him, and wrestled him to the ground. Each of Lucian’s peals of laughter released the tension in her body and replaced it with warm gratitude. The two of them romping about was almost too perfect. She loved how Thereus played with Lucian. Joy warmed her heart. It was a dangerous emotion, yet she couldn’t prevent it.

She smiled as Thereus gathered his son in his arms and set him on the blanket, between them. Closing her eyes, she absorbed the sun’s warmth. Her whole body relaxed and she sighed. Just once, only for this one afternoon, she would pretend they were a family.

Tomorrow would be another day. Tomorrow she would tear out his heart.

“Kalliste.”

She jolted at her sister’s name, spearing into this heavenly moment, and lifted her lashes. Thereus studied her. The pure, raw hunger in those viridian pools sent a shiver through her body. One glimpse of his full, firm lips, and she forced herself to shift away.

Battling her cravings was impossible. Surrendering to his, hopeless.

Her nymph half asserted itself. For her, a male’s lust was tangible. A flame she could ignite, but not extinguish. If such attention was directed at her, she was unable to control her response.

Nymphs
always
submitted, even to rape.

They also possessed the ability to invoke a sensual rush which put all others to shame. Even Zeus, the supreme ruler of the gods, was not immune. He often sought out nymphs for this very reason. Those who thwarted his attempts at seduction found their sole escape in transformation. Many a nymph had become a flower or tree rather than lie with Zeus.

Melita forced herself to breathe. Steadily in and out. Thereus’s passion overwhelmed her, coating her senses with the intoxicating heat of desire. Beyond her control, her body warmed. Her breasts grew heavy with the need to be fondled. The slickness between her thighs increased—wet, hot, achy.

This was not part of her plan. Succumbing to his compulsions was what caused this nightmare in the first place. She must control her response, beat down the urge to submit.

She gritted her teeth and counted in her head. Five, six,
seven
—

Lucian wailed, off in the distance. She murmured a prayer to Demeter while rushing to him.

From across the field, Rhoda sprinted as well. “Oh, milady, forgive me for intruding. I heard the wee Master crying.”

The warmth of Thereus enclosed her, signaling his presence. His hand on her shoulder seared her skin. She shifted out of his grasp and bent to Lucian’s side.

Melita bit her lip as Lucian sobbed into her arm. She examined him and detected a couple of small bruises and a scrape on his knee, which she kissed with exaggeration. “Better, my love?”

Rhoda crouched beside them and whispered covertly, “Why don’t I bring him home?”