A Spartan's Kiss (16 page)

Survive?
“What do you mean? Survive what?”

Tsking, the eldest, goddess of wisdom, swung her arm to indicate the forests. “This is your field of battle, aye, we accept your strength, how you have honed all your skills, both your magic and your prowess with your blades, but this, these lands, this is your power. Ravensong. Nature.”

Bridget nodded in agreement. “Use it and your will shall never be broken again.” Eyeing Tabithia up and down, she said, “Freedom is yours if you wish it.”

Tabithia blinked but stammered out a question. “And this man, Aeros, he will…”

“Be your salvation.” The eldest nodded. “If you can trust him.”

Okay, this was not fun. “Okay, and how’s that? Is he the one? The one destined to rule me?”

Laughing, Bridget shook her head in dismay. “Rule you? Who’s been dishing out the orders? Do you think we’d set you up for that? Look at us. Do we look like we let men rule us?”

Watching the three women, or goddesses, she had to wonder. She hadn’t always been the best at her worship.

“Please, we don’t need your worship. We need your strength, your belief. You are ours. We gain our strength through yours.” Bridget fingered her spear, adding, “Some of it.”

“Does that mean you let Dare be taken by the Greeks on purpose?”

“Time will show she has the strength to fight for what she believes in.” The eldest sniffed at Bridget’s sceptical look. “Bridget. Be kind. Her family has always given. This should be a time of celebration.”

“When the Three are on their paths, then we will celebrate.” The child of the Three spoke for the first time. Tears shone in her brilliant eyes as she approached. Flowers bloomed under her feet as she walked, leaving behind a trail of soft periwinkle blue and lavender. The closer she came, the more power washed over her. “We have sorrowed for you. You must not let the evil win this battle. You are needed. All of you are needed. A battle approaches. One that will threaten the very fibre of our worlds. Yours as well as ours.”

“Ah, such drama. And they said we were bad.” Whirling around, Tabithia froze in place. A beautiful woman dressed in an ancient Greek costume, complete with golden girdle and bright golden bow, stood not far from them, her arms crossed and two fawns at her sandalled feet.

The woman certainly liked her gold. Even her dark auburn hair was threaded with golden leaves and veins.

“Who invited you? This child is ours, not the business of your kind.”

“When you discuss one of my own, why wouldn’t I be here?”

When Tabithia would have said something, the smallest goddess took her hand. The contact filled her with such comfort that tears threatened. Her throat tightened painfully, making her feel like shards of glass lodged in her throat when she swallowed.

“Enough. We cannot heal her, only the chosen one can,” the eldest admonished the youngest. The child released her hand and smiled up at her.

The eldest turned to the intruder and gathered her arms across her chest. She looked like Sorcha confronting a witchling who’d broken into her gardens and eaten all her strawberries.

“Explain your presence, Artemis.”

Artemis?
“Oh, shit,” Tabithia muttered. Wait, Ares was Aeros’ god, wasn’t he? Why had she called Aeros her own? Or did she mean Ares?

“I am not Aeros’ god, true, witch, but he means a great deal to me.” Almost pouting, the Greek goddess murmured, “A great deal.”

All three of the Celts looked disapproving.

“I, too, am the goddess of nature, ladies, let’s not forget it.”

Bridget strode forward until the two goddesses were mere feet apart. Tabithia so didn’t want to see the fireworks when those two tussled.

“Like we ever could. But this is our forest, full of our magic. We allow you here, Greek, do not forget it. Yours is soon to be ours.”

Lightning flashed, hitting the ground inches from where Tabithia and the child stood. The force of it tingled up the soles of her feet and her hair tingled on top of her head.

Artemis narrowed her eyes and hissed. “Never!”

Wind blew then, hard and swift. The very air shivered. The trees creaked and cracked so loudly the sound was deafening. Animals called, birds screamed, and the fawns took off, leaving the Greek in the midst of the sudden storm and three angry goddesses.

Behind her and next to her, her goddesses grew until their brilliance outshone the memory of the sun. Clouds darkened and swept down, creating a ceiling of dark menace at their backs. Eyes brilliant, the Three stood with a flock of crows swooping down amongst them.

A blast of light had Tabithia squeezing her eyes shut. The sound faded to a whisper, then disappeared. She opened her eyes. Darkness surrounded her. The stench of underground filled her nose. Her legs gave out, and she hit the ground. Somehow, she still sensed someone else, even when blackness swooped down on her. She thought she heard cursing in a familiar deep voice an instant before warmth surrounded her.

This time, the sensation of glass slicing her throat hurt too much to hold back the heat of tears.

On his knees in the dirt of the cave, Aeros held Tabithia close to his chest. He wasn’t certain what had just happened, but after holding her in his arms, he had a feeling he was never going to be the same again.

She was so small. Her delicate frame curled up to his and he swore she murmured his name into his chest where she nuzzled her face against his heart. A shiver raced down his spine. She felt right in his arms. He felt right with her there—whole.

When he looked down, he spotted moisture on her pale cheek. Tears?

Couldn’t be. It must be sweat because if ever a woman was tougher than nails, it was this one. If he ever saw her cry tears of sorrow, he’d not be able to live with it, he was certain. Gently, he brushed the wetness aside with a thumb and marvelled at how smooth and silky her skin felt against his battle-hardened fingers. Careful of her, he lifted her closer, and stood with her cradled in his arms. A puff of her warm breath hit his skin and inside his chest he felt something ease. He didn’t know what the hell it was, but one thing became crystal clear.
She fit him.

He knew practically nothing about her.
But she fit him
. Satisfaction flooded his system from simply holding her. What the hell would happen if he ever kissed her again? She murmured and sighed against his neck and he knew right then and there, he’d carry her every time he got the chance.

Before he could stop himself he bent his head and pressed a kiss to the warm spot on her neck behind her ear. Her hair smelt sweet and felt like silk against his face. She breathed out against his neck again, and his body fired up in ways he knew she wasn’t ready for, especially since she was unconscious.

Unconscious.
Why was she unconscious
? He pulled her closer and set off, the rightness of her in his arms dwindling. He’d not heard an attack. Would he, though? A spell could harm her silently and he’d never have heard a thing. What if some spell had done this to her? Even now, in his arms she could be battling something he couldn’t sense or see.

Tension racked his muscles and his stomach tightened to steel. A threat to her had him ready for battle, but against what enemy?

For the first time in his existence, he felt helpless. He needed to protect her. Every muscle in his body grew tense until he felt like she’d strung him up on a rack. Never before had the need to protect another been so great. Never. Not for Ares. Not for his beloved Spartans. Not even for the young boy he’d once been, alone and starving in the practice arena. The adrenaline raced through his veins at a rate he knew would keep him ready for battle for days. But what battle?

Slowly, he breathed in and out, breaking the tension and concentrated on the feel of her soft, steady heartbeat. She would be fine. She had to be fine. For the first time in his immortal life he felt. From her, he knew. Now, panic flooded him. The last time that sensation rushed his body like this he’d been a young boy, without more to worry over than surviving the next task his masters gave him. Now, he held Tabithia closer and refused to give into the fear of losing her.

She simply needed rest. She needed rest. He repeated it like a mantra the entire way back to where he’d left the men setting up tents.

Camp was almost complete. The tents were set up with hers central, exactly where he wanted her.

He feared her leaving. Now he feared her being under some spell, hurting, and him with no way to aid her. Protect her. How could he do nothing except hope she’d simply exhausted herself with too many spells?

Panic tightened his chest. What if it wasn’t that, but a spell harming her even now? She was a witch, a spell-caster. The covens were known for being devious.

As soon as he thought it, he denied the accusation. Witches were no more devious than others of the non-human breeds. The covens were independent, each as individual as the members that made up their ranks. Her coven had a long history of integrity and honour. She might work with this partner of hers for her own gains, but she’d been fair and clear even in her outrageous demands. Already she’d saved him and his crew. He had no doubt he and his men would have suffered without her.

Now? Now she’d either fought something else and been harmed, or had exhausted herself using too much of her magic.

She looked so innocent and almost childlike in his arms. So light he could have carried her hundreds of miles, if not indefinitely, and never tired.

He would give her a few hours. If she didn’t wake he would have to get her out of here.

The implications of that didn’t bode well. They had a two-day hike back up and out to the aircraft without her aid in clearing the trail. He had little hope that the path she’d cleared with her magic would still remain. If she didn’t wake, he’d have to chance it, though.

“What happened?” Ajax jumped up from sharpening his blade.

Aaron demanded information. “Damn, man, was she attacked? Is she harmed? Did the witch attack her?”

Aeros stalled the rest of the questions simply because he refused to slow down to hear them. “I don’t know. I found her like this.” She’d been wavering on her feet then collapsed, but they didn’t need to know that or that she’d said his name. Had she been calling for his aid?

“Settle down, Aeros. She’s simply sleeping.” Ajax brushed a hand over her brow, frowning down at her.

“How do you know that?”

Shrugging, he adjusted his machete before he said, “If she were harmed, don’t you think we’d be suffering some major spells?”

The other men crowded around, each showing concern. Had she already made such an impression on his men that they accepted her so completely? Yes. She had from the first moment she’d walked into their home. The Spartans, each so private and guarded with strangers, had opened up to her like no other. He frowned, but filed the idea away for later inspection. Now he needed her awake and well. They needed to discuss his kiss and her response. She had responded. As soon as she awoke, they’d discuss…what? The way he’d not wanted to stop? How he’d wanted to strip her bare and claim her until they’d both fallen, exhausted, asleep in each other’s arms?

“Aye, Ajax is right. Besides, we will have to wait and see. She’s out, Aeros.” Aaron turned and went back to completing the last tent.

Wait and see? He glared at them, but none of his men would meet his eyes.

Wait and see? That meant nothing more than helplessly sitting here. Unprepared. Unable to do anything.

Damn near impossible and worse, they were right. He knew that. He couldn’t chance panicking. He’d never panicked a day in his life.

He could not start now. She needed him. Whether or not she knew it. The thought brought a smile to his lips. She’d not like knowing she needed him. Sighing, he ducked his head under the low entrance to her tent and stood nearly upright. The collapsible pole in the centre made the tent tall, nearly large enough for him and certainly big enough for them both. Gently, so as not to wake her, he settled her on the blanket-covered travel pad he’d set up for her. He knew she liked her privacy. He’d hoped she’d like the tent enough to ease her anger. Possibly talk to him. Let him hold her again. Finish their kiss, perhaps.

Settling in next to her on the ground, he’d give her five hours. Something close to panic brushed down his spine. Five hours might be too long. A few hours. Just a few, then he’d wake her. Surely, she was fine. Exhausted. She was merely exhausted.

Her small face softened in slumber, making her appear too young, too small for the needs raging through him. He reached out and brushed a lock of bright hair from her cheek, letting the silken strands spill through his fingers. Had he ever felt anything so sinfully soft?

He forced himself to rest against the tent pole and away from her seductive scent. Outside, he heard his men talking in low murmurs. Smells of food—warm stew, he thought—filtered in. He’d have to eat soon. And sleep.

But not until Tabithia awoke.

Until then, he’d wait.

For the first time since meeting her he realised he could watch her uninterrupted by anyone or anything.

He’d wait.

Tabithia shot up, a scream caught in her throat. She wasn’t alone. Years of trying to hold those terrified sounds in had her jaw clenched tight.

In the dim light, she barely made out the shadowy form of someone with her.

“Light!” she cried, calling the spell to illuminate.

Aeros came into view, squinting against the light. He held a forearm up to shield his eyes. He appeared larger than ever sitting not more than two inches from her.

A tent. She was in a tent. She’d passed out?

“You are well?”

Heat flamed her cheeks. Had he been here watching her? “How long was I out?”

“What caused you to lose consciousness? Were you attacked? Fighting something?”

At his question, she met his concerned hazel eyes. He needed to shave. The idea popped into her head before she could stop it from forming into an image of him doing just that, a towel wrapped around his powerful hips, back bare as he faced a mirror, carefully using a straight edge to clean the dark bristle from his square jaw.