Wicked Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 3) (6 page)

“Forgive me,” the male mumbled into her ear as the blade sliced across her throat and he shoved her to the ground.

She struck the earth and blinked at the ground, wheezing. Agrius’s roar rumbled in her ears while scuffling echoed around her.

Eione rolled over, prodding her throat. No warm, crimson liquid streamed between her fingers.
Am I dead?
She scrambled to her feet.

The centaur had launched himself atop the other male, pounding his fist into his opponent.

“Agrius, stop!”

At her voice, he froze, gaping at her.

“I’m fine.” She uttered the words, hoping they were true, and rubbed her throat. Her necklace was missing. The one from her mother. She never removed it. After scanning the camp, her focus landed on their attacker’s hand.

Eione squinted at his familiar face—dusky features and a slight crook in his nose. “Abiron?” The middle-aged male led her brothers’ hunts. He’d taught her a few skills also. She’d considered him a friend, so why had he attacked her?

“Please accept my apologies, milady,” he repeated, wheezing and holding up the necklace. “I wasn’t certain you’d part with it.”

“Part with it?”

“You know him?” Agrius released Abiron, stepping off the male’s body and aiding him to stand. “I feared you’d killed her.”

Abiron shook his head. “Your family is searching for you in the south, but I followed your trail. I found your den and read the clues. Centaur blood. The barren shelves. The hasty trail.” He pegged her with his dark stare. “If I could follow you, so could they. So I did. I had to be sure you’d gone off with this male of your own accord.” He rubbed his jaw and glared at Agrius.

“I did.” Eione set her shoulders. “But why attack me, Abiron?”

“Pray pardon the offense, milady. It wasn’t my best plan.” He chuckled and twisted the necklace in his hands. “I didn’t think you’d part with this and you startled me.”

“I startled you?” She laughed. “Why do you need it?”

“I erased your trail, but I must make certain they conclude you are somewhere else. I intended to pawn this off in Sepias.” A southern village.

Tears stung her eyes at Abiron’s loyalty. She stepped forward and closed her hands around his. “Then it is yours. Thank you, my friend. I will repay you, someday.”

He bowed his head.

Eione withdrew the chest of silver from her saddlebag and added several coins to his palms. “Take care of everyone for me and know that, somehow, I will make things right.”

Agrius sprinted through the forest toward Mount Pelion, his hooves pounding the earth. After having been so easily caught by Abiron, he’d convinced Eione of their need for faster travel. This deep in the woods, his centaur form would be a lesser risk than their slow pace. She rode astride his back, her fingers linked around his waist. Her cheek pressed against his spine and her steady heartbeat rang in his ears.

Under different circumstances, he would savor this moment. As it was, he rushed to their destination. Had he made the right decision? Should he have brought her safely home first, then sought the waters for his brother?

The questions unsettled him, yet Eione insisted this might be their only chance to retrieve the cure for his brother.

With her family scouring the borders, it would prove impossible to trespass again.

Her caring nature warmed his heart. Lingering in Lapith country meant hazarding her future, yet Eione didn’t hesitate to take the risk to aid a male she’d never even met.

She was an exceptional female, and he would do everything to prove himself worthy of her.

Agrius skidded to a halt in front of a narrow waterfall. This was the location the nymph had described. He sniffed the air, tensing for any threats.

Eione slid from his back and he performed the
morphos
into a man. He grabbed her hand and guided them toward the cavern behind the waterfall.

“Are you certain this is the place?” she whispered.

“Aye, but whether this well truly exists, I have my doubts.” Reservations which grew greater with each passing second. Had he been a damned fool by listening to a nymph’s tales? Had his decision to help his brother grieve the loss of his mate put Agrius’s own mate at risk?

He shook off his concerns and trudged forward into the cavern. The rush of the waterfall drowned out any other sounds, so he treaded cautiously forward. In the dim light, he discerned the wet stone walls, the rock floor. Ahead, a light beamed at the end of the corridor.

Gripping Eione’s hand, he led her behind him, stepping into the opening. Blinking, he shielded his eyes with his forearm. In the middle of the expanse stretched a small meadow and in the center stood a stone well. At least the nymph hadn’t lied.

Eione squeezed his hand and passed him a flask. He released her hand and strode to the well. The gleaming waters seemed like any other well’s. Yet, if legend bore truth, these waters could heal Oreius’s devastating grief.

Agrius pulled the rope, hand over hand, raising the full bucket. Pausing, he frowned at the enchanted liquid. “Mayhap you should fill the flask, sweetling.” Who knew what would happen if he touched those waters.

“Allow me.” After accepting the flask from him, she filled it and tucked the vessel inside her saddlebag. “Well, I suggest we head home.” She bit the corner of her mouth, tugging that plump flesh inside.

He tore his gaze off her, suppressing a groan. Hearing her speak of his home as hers flooded his horse with pride. “Aye, come, Eione, and let’s begin our future. Together.” Hands clasped, they trekked through the tunnel once more, out from behind the waterfall.

Retrieving the waters was the easy part. Now, they must continue their journey through Lapith lands and cross the borders into his home in Thessaly.

Without being detected.

Once outside the waterfall, he switched into centaur form and Eione hopped onto his back.

A few more days and he’d have her safe. Home. And in his bed.

***

Four days later, Eione peeked past the branches and held her breath. Two sentinels paced their horses on this side of the Lapith border. The forest hid them, but a mile of barren meadow stretched before them. No trees to conceal their presence.

She huffed in frustration. With luck, they’d manage to sneak past these guards. It made little sense for her family to hunt for her this extensively, yet they’d positioned sentinels along the entire stretch of borders. She shuddered to think what they would do to her, or Agrius, if they were captured.

Eione held a finger to her lips as she guided Agrius several feet into the safety of the forest. “There are guards everywhere, searching for me.”

“Nay.” His brows knitted together. “I fear they are not entirely a result of your escape. Something more sinister brews.”

A shiver slithered down her spine. He was right. The guards may be looking for her, but one betrothal wasn’t worth this effort. Her hand was insignificant compared to her sister’s.

“Come.” He led her deeper into the forest. “We’ll wait until cover of dark and make our attempt then. In my centaur form, they’ll stand little chance of catching us.”

She swallowed her concerns. Fire was too much of a risk, so they huddled together on the forest floor. Agrius’s immense warmth soothed the chill from her bones and she entwined her fingers with his as they awaited the setting of the sun.

Finally, the last rays vanished, darkness settling over them. No moon this night, only clouds, which would aid their cause.

“It’s time.” He helped her to her feet and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. “Once we cross the border, you’ll be safe forever.” His thumb brushed across her cheek. “Then, I’ll make you mine.”

His wickedly low chuckle sent quivers through her body. She rose on her toes and murmured against his lips, “Perhaps, once we cross the border, centaur, I’ll make you mine.”

She squirmed from him before he snared her in his arms, and they spent the night pursuing ambitions other than freedom.

Together, they crept to the tree line. The two guards continued to pace to either end of their perimeters, switching and meeting in the middle to carry on in opposite directions.

Before them, centaur lands stretched. Wild, free, and so close she could almost grasp them.

Her blood pulsed in a thudding rhythm, the anticipation burning through her. Yet she steadied her breaths as she did before loosing an arrow.

The guards met in the middle, each pacing atop their steeds to the opposite boundary.

As they neared their bounds, Eione and Agrius stole forward, creeping down the grass embankment into the meadow.

He seized her hand and tossed her atop his back, bolting forth from the cover of the bushes. Silently, he galloped across the boundary, his hooves barely crushing the tall grass.

Eione held her breath.
So close.

“Halt!” one of the guards barked.

She tensed, clutching Agrius’s waist and praying they’d gained enough distance.

“Almost there.” He patted her hand, hooves tearing up the ground. The edge of the meadow rose before them and hope sprang into her chest.

Just make it to the tree line. Great Artemis, please aid us—

Agrius howled, collapsing to his knees and sending her tumbling over his side.

Oomph!
She crashed into the ground ahead of him, a few feet from the trees. The air knocked from her lungs, she wheezed. “Agrius!” She scrambled around, scanning behind her.

His hand shot out toward her, not reaching, but urging her away from him. “Go, Eione. To the trees. Run!” He staggered to his feet as dozens of soldiers charged them.

She wavered, glancing between the trees offering freedom and the men closing in on her mate.

“Run, Eione,” he barked at her, one last time before facing his opponents, gripping a blade in his hands.

Oh gods.
She couldn’t make this choice. He was too far away to make it to the trees with her, yet if she joined him, they would kill him.

“Drop your weapon,” she shouted. “Don’t fight them.”

He gaped over his shoulder at her, eyes wide, but lowered his blade to the ground and raised both hands above his head in surrender.

“Go, lass,” he growled as the first soldier approached him and delivered a savage blow to his side, knocking him to the ground.

She bit her tongue to keep from crying out and bolted for the forest.

He was safe, for the moment, and so was she. Now, she had to find a way to rescue her centaur.

Or die trying.

***

Agrius grimaced as one guard yanked his head by the hair, wrenching his gaze to the lead soldier.

“Where is the Lady Eione headed, centaur scum?” the leader growled, crossing his arms.

Damn, they had identified her. Glaring at them, Agrius held his tongue. Eione would be safe so long as he disclosed nothing. That was all that mattered.
She
was all that mattered.

Let these Lapith bastards do to him what they would.

“Don’t feel like talking, centaur?” the leader jeered. “We’ll loosen your tongue.” He waved toward one guard. “Bring him to the command post.”

Agrius grunted and stumbled forward while they lugged him toward a cabin about a mile away. They tossed him into a corner room, hands and legs bound. The arrow they loosed had pierced him and remained pinned inside his right hind leg, crippling him.

He hung his head. They’d been so close.
Bloody hell.
They should have scouted better, then they would’ve detected the long-range archers. Not that anything short of armor would have aided them.

Eione is safe
, he chanted in his mind, the words lending him comfort. His brothers would care for her. They’d scent him on her and know she was his.

He’d counted at least a dozen guards surrounding the cabin. Mayhap once they pulled this arrow from his leg, he’d no longer be lame and he could fight them.

The door cracked open and a Lapith male sauntered inside, cracking his knuckles. “Now, centaur, you’re going to talk.” He removed a cloth bundle from his side and set it upon the table, metal instruments glinting in the dim light.

Agrius squinted. Tools, for making horseshoes.

Torture.
He winced.

The man spun, wielding a hammer and a nail puller.

Ignoring the instruments of torture, Agrius lifted his chin. These men seemed not to have realized one very important fact.

No one broke a centaur.

***

Eione paced the forest toward the outpost, murmuring prayers to Artemis. She had to rescue Agrius, but how? Ought she to race to his brothers and recruit them?

She still carried the chest of coins. Could she hire mercenaries?

No,
no
. Each option wasted precious time.

Her father’s men would undoubtedly torture Agrius. Likely were at this very moment.

Dropping her head into her hands, she fought back tears. They’d dragged him to an outpost. Perhaps she could create a diversion and draw the soldiers out. She carried a full quiver of arrows and, thanks to her gift from Artemis, possessed seamless aim. There couldn’t be more than two dozen men. It might work.

She might fail, too. They’d both die.