Daughter of Asteria (The Daughter Trilogy) (45 page)

“And you?” Devin asks with a hint of worry lacing his tone.

“I know who I’m meant to be with, and it’s not him.”

Devin smiles gorgeously, and he slowly saunters over to me with mischievously swirling eyes.

“How do you know you’re meant to be with me?” he fishes.

“Well, there’s the obvious stuff. The fact you’re my strongest trigger is one of the reasons. The

fact fate pushed me into your arms twice is another. Most importantly, I’ve been thoroughly in love

and obsessed with you since I met you,” I seduce.

His grin grows, and then he pulls me to his body as his lips find mine. I feel the heat blazing

through us, and I open my eyes to make sure it isn’t blazing out of me as well. I see smoke seeping

from my pores, and I instantly withdraw to throw myself outside on the balcony.

Devin walks up behind me with a touch of laughter.

“If I said you’re smoking hot, would it be too easy?” he teases.

I roll my eyes as I pat my arm fervently with my hand to extinguish the lingering smolders.

“This is aggravating. Now these clothes are ruined,” I grunt.

“I’ll buy you some more,” he teases.

“I’m still waiting on some other things you promised to replace. We’ve had this conversation

before,” I joke with mock frustration.

“Have we?” he seduces with coy indifference before closing his lips over mine.

I hear the fabric tearing as he jolts me forward, and suddenly my legs are wrapped around his

waist. I don’t waste time ripping his shirt off, and I feel it pulling through my legs as I toss it to the

ground.

His lips move down to devour my neck, and I moan as I tilt my head back to give him full access.

He carries me over the threshold and back into the room I nearly set ablaze. The soft bed folds

around me and the walls shiver in fear when my skin begins to sizzle.

“Careful not to set the room on fire,” Devin provocatively dares.

“I have no control,” I groan as his lips slowly embroider a seductive pattern against my bare

chest.

“Yes you do,” he murmurs against my skin. “Just breathe, relax, and pull it in,” he coaches.

“I don’t want to,” I tremble out, and the bed beneath me begins to blister.

“You have to, baby. Try… for me,” he instructs, and his lips slide down my stomach as I struggle

against the brewing inferno.

“Why?” I moan, and the throbbing is suddenly verging on being unbearable as his lips stroll even

lower.

“Because it’ll make it that much better if you hold it back and just let me have you without

alternative release. Try it,” he seduces.

His words are almost enough to break the dam, but I continue to fight the pleading flames. I

breathe in slowly as his lips slide down my inner thigh, and I feel the heat threatening to emerge.

“Fight it,” he cautions. “I want you to feel everything fully.”

How can I fight it when he’s talking like this?

His lips begin trekking back up the trail they’ve forged, and I feel my body begging to convulse

from the build. His lips consume mine, and I forget everything else in the world. He’s all there is.

“Well?” he asks with anticipation
.

“Definitely amazing,” I pant.

He laughs a little as he gently places a kiss on my still quivering lips.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he randomly insists.

“Where did that come from?” I chuckle out.

He sits up to prop against the massive and padded headboard, and I scoot over to rest my head in

his lap.

“I want to know everything, and if you’re willing to give up your chance to explore the immortal

world with a binding marriage, then I want to start planning the things you would enjoy doing with

me.”

My eyes dance up and down with provocative insinuation, and he laughs while shaking his head.

“I realize that was too easy,” he jokes. “But seriously, tell me something I don’t know. I don’t

want you feeling like you lost your opportunity to just enjoy the world we live in. I want it to be

special,” he says with all sincere sweetness.

I sigh as I sit up, and my eyes lock with his.

“You make it sound as if I’m giving up a million dollars to simply live on the street. I’m not

giving up anything to be with you. I want to be with you, and I’m excited to do so.”

“You say that now, but I’m worried you’ll regret it in a century or two when you see how very

little you’ve lived,” he pouts.

“You want to know something you don’t know?”

“Yes. Please.”

“I could see your swirling eyes while I was still mortal. I never saw anyone else’s eyes swirl

while I was mortal,” I confess.

He smirks a little and shakes his head. “That’s because you’re not supposed to be able to, but you

never cease to amaze me. I do like knowing it was only mine you saw,” he smolders before pulling

me closer to him. “But, that’s not going to help me find amazing ways to show you a good time for

eternity. Tell me something else. Where have you always wanted to go? What’s the one thing you’ve

always wanted to do, but you were too scared to try it? What’s something you’ve never had the

money to do? What’s-”

“Whoa. Easy boy,” I giggle out. “I think I get the point.”

He grins a little at my joking interruption, and I shrug.

“I’ve always wanted to ride a horse, but not on the beach - too cliché. I’ve always wanted to go to

Greece, and that was before I knew about my heritage,” I chuckle. “I never had the money to go to

Greece, so the two overlap. I’m completely unremarkable in the ambition department, so you

shouldn’t be stressing about scheduling my immortal calendar with everything fantastic thing you can

fit in.”

“I want to. I’ve been waiting on a reason to plan ahead, and there’s never been one more perfect

than you,” he murmurs as he pulls the back of my hand to his lips.

His words resonate, and then intrigue strikes me. “You can see the future of the mortals anytime,

right?”

“Yeah, why?” he muses.

“Does the future extend past two days?”

He sighs and his eyes show understanding for my line of questioning.

“It does, but that doesn’t mean anything. I can only see their lives and how they would be if

unobstructed by immortals. If I can’t see the immortal, then I can’t see the impact they could have.

It’s definitely misleading.”

“Oh,” I grumble.

“We’re going to get through this though. I don’t need a vision to know that. I’m not going

anywhere until I’m your husband,” he genuinely declares.

“I can’t believe our wedding was interrupted,” I huff. “Where’s my dress?”

He flinches slightly and walks over to his bag. He pulls out a smaller bag and tosses it to me very

reluctantly.

“I really didn’t know what I should do with it, so I kept it.”

“Kept what?” I ask while staring at the very small bag.

“Your dress,” he murmurs softly with a secretive face.

“My dress wouldn’t fit in here. The train alone was too big to fit in here,” I chuckle out.

He grimaces slightly, and it takes him a minute to sigh out, “It didn’t fit in there before the fight,

but… it did after.”

I warily unzip the bag that can’t possibly be holding my dress, and I gasp when I’m proven

wrong. Small, tattered bits are all that remain of the dress I had planned to start my life in, and a

single fake rose lies intact.

I pull it out, and look at the ravaged shards of fabric crumbled in the bag.

“Holy ripped up wedding dress. Please tell me I wasn’t wearing this in front of everyone,” I

worry.

“Only for a few seconds. I quickly covered you up, and I’m sure you can believe that,” he

murmurs very dryly.

I smile a little at his agitation for the others having seen so much, and then a blushing hue stings

my cheeks. He pulls me into his arms, and I feel his exhaustion when he neglects to capitalize on our

extreme closeness.

“Go to sleep,” I murmur gently into his ear.

He smirks a little, and his lips graze mine. His soft breaths are rattling against my hair, and I feel

his strong grip pulling me as close as he can get me.

“Are you going to sleep with me?” he asks hopefully.

“I think I’ve slept for long enough, but I’ll stay here until you fall asleep. I love you.”

“I love you,” he mutters in an even more exhausted tone, and almost instantly he’s sleeping

peacefully.

My finger gingerly brushes the line of his strong cheek, and it strolls down his defined jaw until it

reaches his neck.

I kiss his chest as I crawl out of his arms, and I contemplate just sitting here and watching him. I

sigh when I realize there’s only one day after tonight. One day to find all the answers.

I gingerly creep down the stairs, and whispers ring to my ears the farther down I get.

“I still don’t know what we’re going to do,” Persia sighs. “The daughters of Athena are our most

deadly counterpart. You know as well as I do they’ll have Medusa spawn there as well now that they

know Kahl is really alive.”

I don’t allow anyone to answer. I don’t want to stumble into another full blown argument about

me and their doubts.

“Why does the
Medusa
spawn
want Kahl dead so badly?” I interject.

Their eyes widen when they see me, and it’s fairly obvious I’m walking in on a discussion that

has recently changed. It feels as if they’re worried I overheard something I wasn’t supposed to again.

Kahl sighs as he breaks the awkward silence to answer my question.

“Medusa once turned full armies to stone. Unlike the fable of Medusa, she could choose whom

she turned to stone, and when she did so. She threatened Kaos, and she told him if he didn’t bring

forth the army of dead to strike down her most hated adversary, she would turn him to stone. Kaos

hated threats, and to say he responded viciously would be an understatement.

“My father spent the bulk of his life as a monster among the immortal world, but he never sought

to inflict harm among his own unless provoked. His worst crimes were against the unsuspecting

mortals. I’ve lived with those demons for centuries, and you’ll face your own struggles with such.”

Note to self, stop learning about your heritage.

“Okay. So, Kaos stomped Medusa, and now all of her descendents wish to do the same to his

bloodline,” I sum up.

“There’s a lot of descendents too. Fire Nuris are never too far behind. They love and cherish the

Medusa spawn.”

“Explain a Nuri, please. I’m still playing catch up,” I grumble.

“Nuri entities are the third wave of our kind. The embodiments of earth’s excess energy, but

they’re not weaker in anything other than title. They gather little respect, and they certainly have a

chip on their shoulder about it. They fight just to be fighting most times, and those who are our allies

are still not deemed trustworthy.”

“How can you tell the difference?” I ask curiously.

“Their eyes. The stronger the lineage, the stronger the power in the eyes. Swirls and flares such

as ours are the strongest. Theirs will glaze dimly and offer only a subtle change,” he clarifies.

“So there’s just a whole lot of everyone trying to kill us… Not just Safina and Athena’s spawn,” I

huff. Then my eyes turn to Theia. “How did you stop the army of dead when they came after you?” I

ask, foaming at the mouth for insight.

“I didn’t,” she murmurs with a shiver. “The first time they came, Phillip threw my blood to the

ground when I couldn’t move. The second time they came, Eycleus stood at my side, and he forced

them back into the ground,” she mutters.

“Eycle… who?” I stutter.

“Eycleus. He was the keeper of the dead, and he was the first to control the army of dead. He

pulled forth a group of mortals to allow them the opportunity to exact revenge on the immortals who

had wrongfully ended their life too soon. The unfinished souls poured back into their flesh, and they

stalked the immortals.

“Many died, and Eycleus decided the power was too great to use. Unfortunately, others found

they had the same ability, and the consequences for his unexpected discovery were grave, destructive,

and it would forever change the weight of power. Eycleus spent the remainder of his time putting the

armies back to sleep.”

“So he’s dead now. Great. Anyone else who can do that?” I gripe.

“No. That’s why we’re still sifting through every scheme we can. Something has to fall into

place at some point,” Theia exasperates while rubbing her aching head.

“Has anyone slept since we left the beach house?” I ask while staring around at all the weary

faces.

“No,” Jace grouches. “We’ve been trying to come up with something… anything at all.”

Camara is propped up on Deacon, and I can see her eyes begging to close. Jace walks over to join

me on the couch, and his arm rests around my shoulders a little too effortlessly.

He leans back to nestle into an oversized pillow, and I lean against him as Theia pulls out a book.