Entwined (39 page)

“Don’t you worry your little head about Casey. I promise you won’t have to think of her much longer.” Saphira rose as if it was all decided. She pulled Isadora to her feet, caught her when she swayed. And vaguely the princess realized her handmaiden was stronger than she’d ever seemed before. Which was just…strange.

“I’ll get you out of here, Princess. And in a matter of hours, this will all be just a memory. You trust me don’t you?”

As if on cue, Isadora nodded, though she felt as if she saw herself doing it from a great distance and had no control over the action.

Saphira smiled again. “Good. And I’ve never let you down, have I?”

No. But that little voice in the back of Isadora’s head that was quickly being smothered screamed that it only took once…

Callia looked up from the book in her lap and stared out the window at the rain drizzling Tiyrns. It was useless to try to read today. First her father’s funeral rite at the Stone Circle, then the rain and soon…Zander’s binding.

She closed the book, leaned her head against the cool glass and drew deep breaths. Even her favorite window seat and a copy of
Gone with the Wind
, which Orpheus had given to her after they returned home, didn’t ease the ache in her soul.

This was all for the best. For her, for Zander, for everyone. If she repeated it enough times, maybe she’d believe it.

A sound at her back brought her head around. Max stood in the doorway to the kitchen with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans and a look of worry across his handsome face. She swiped at her cheeks, pushed away from the window. “I didn’t hear you.”

After the funeral rite, he’d come home and lain down for a nap, just like he had yesterday. She knew he was fine, but she still worried. And every time she thought about the way he’d extracted Atalanta’s energy on that hill and turned it back on her…

Even Max didn’t realize how truly special he was. Now she understood how he’d stayed alive in the Underworld all that time and how he’d held his own against Atalanta’s daemons, even if he didn’t. Whatever powers they’d used on him he’d been able to twist around and utilize to his benefit. The gift of transference was an incredible power. One many—not just Atalanta—would love to get their hands on. And for that and other reasons, he wasn’t getting out of her
sight. But, Callia knew from her own limited experience transferring illnesses, it was also draining. No wonder he looked like he could sleep for a week and never catch up.

She forced a smile she didn’t feel and moved toward him. “Would you like something to eat?”

He shook his blond head. “I…I heard the bells.”

“What bells?”

“The castle bells. Today at the Stone Circle, Casey told me what they mean.”

Meddling Misos.
Callia closed her eyes. Shook her head. Felt that ache all over again. “Your newfound aunt needs to learn to keep her mouth shut.”

He moved down the two steps into the sunken living room, with its dark woods and formal furnishings, his little, perfect, bare feet making not a single sound on the hardwood floors her father had loved so much. “You’re doing this because of me, aren’t you?”

The anger she heard in his voice and the way his eyes flashed that swirling smoky gray before resettling to their normal silver color reminded her of Zander. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m stronger than you think.”

That ache intensified. “I don’t want you to have to be strong, Max,” she whispered as he stopped in front of her. “You’ve been strong long enough. It’s time for us to do that for you.”

He reached out and took her hand, and as she looked down she saw the markings on his forearms that ran down his fingers and now spread out to entwine hers. And she had a memory flash. Of that suite in the half-breed colony. Of her and Zander in that big bed. Of his fingers intertwined with hers. Of those markings over and around her as if she were a part of them herself.

“I didn’t think you wanted me,” he said in a soft voice, looking down at their hands. “I dreamed about it at night. But during the day, I convinced myself you didn’t. That you couldn’t…That someone like me was…unlovable.”

His silver eyes lifted to hers, and she knew he saw the tears in hers but she didn’t look away. Or answer. Because she owed him this much.

“The little old lady with the glass told me to remember my humanity. I didn’t think it would matter, but…I was wrong. Humanity can’t save a person, but it can give you hope. And without that…well, you might as well just become one of Atalanta’s daemons.”

That ache in her chest engulfed her entire being until she thought it might just consume her.

“It seems like a silly little thing,” he said softer, “but sometimes hope can be enough to make all the difference.”

She leaned over so they were face-to-face. “You’re not supposed to be smarter than me at ten years of age.”

One corner of his mouth curled up. “Good genes?”

“Good something.”

“I practiced flashing earlier today.” The grin on Max’s face lightened the ache in her chest. And gods, his smile at full force was dazzling. “Casey told me how it works. Want to see? We could go outside right now and I could show you. I bet I could flash all the way to the castle if I tried.”

Wonderful. A manipulator. Just like his father. Between the two of them, she didn’t stand a chance.

“There are guards all over the castle,” she said. “After everything that happened, they’re being extra cautious with security for the…event.”

The binding ceremony. Zander’s binding. Her stomach pitched hard. She couldn’t possibly be contemplating going to the castle. Not now. What good would it do? Nothing had changed. They still couldn’t leave with him and he’d never go without her. Butterflies took flight in her stomach.

“I’m pretty sure I can get us in.” The look of utter confidence on his face struck her, and in that moment he was the picture-perfect image of Zander.

She would never be free of the guardian. No matter where she went or what she did, Zander was always going to be a part of her. And though she’d tried to convince herself what
she felt for him was trivial, in the end it was everything.
He
was everything. Max was right. She couldn’t kill his hope because she thought it would make things easier. She’d spent her whole life resenting those who laid claim to her, and yet the one person she now knew she truly belonged to was the only one who thought she didn’t care.

Her heart pounded hard in her chest. Images, memories, pictures of Zander were all she could see.

Max lifted his brows. “Ready?”

“No,” she whispered as her pulse beat like wildfire. When it came to Zander she was never ready. But this time, at least, she knew she was doing the right thing.

“Yo, Z. It’s time.”

Zander turned from the window he’d been staring out the last twenty minutes and looked across the gigantic bedroom suite on the third floor of the castle—correction,
his
bedroom suite—toward Titus, decked out in his Argonaut dress uniform, dwarfing the doorframe and anteroom beyond.

The guardian wore the same ensemble Zander did—tight-fitting dark trousers, a white tunic cinched at the waist, the traditional leather breastplate decorated with the seal of his forefather and a cloak made of differing colors based on a guardian’s lineage, which fell over his left arm and was anchored at his shoulder with a bronze leaf. Titus, being from Odysseus’s line, wore a blue cloak. Zander’s was amber.

Titus let out a low whistle as he looked around the room. “Sweet digs. You could hold a party in here and still have room to house the Misos while they look for a new base camp.”

Zander glanced around the massive and stifling room with its soaring ceilings and gold
everything
as his stomach rolled all over again. Man, he hated this. Hated every part of it. He was so fucked it wasn’t even funny. And there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do about it.

He drew in a steadying breath and wished for his old friend, rage, to push its way forward so he had an excuse to escape. But it didn’t. It was nowhere to be found.

“You okay, old man?” Titus asked quietly from the door.

Realizing he was staring off into space and that this was a conversation he didn’t want to have with anyone—especially someone who could read his pathetic mind—Zander gave his head a shake and forced his feet forward. “I’m fine. Let’s just go do this and get it the hell over with.”

“Spoken like another happy groom,” Titus muttered, stepping out of the doorway to let Zander pass.

They made it to the top of the grand stairs before his skin started to itch under the greaves—the ancient shin guards that ran from his boots to his knees over his pants. To keep the panic at bay, Zander focused on the sensation of the leather rubbing the cloth into his skin as he moved, and counted the minutes until he could be back in his room—alone—staring out at nothing.

The royal temple was located in the courtyard of the castle. By now the Council would be seated, including the other Argonauts and Orpheus who—motherfucker—he still couldn’t believe was being fast-tracked to replace Lucian when he retired. Sure, he owed Orpheus for saving Callia and Max on that hillside, and as Gryphon was a guardian himself, that left Orpheus as Lucian’s only blood relative who was eligible for the seat. But Orpheus on the Council of Elders had
bad news
written all over it. Even Zander could see that much.

He was so caught up in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the commotion one floor down near the main doors until he and Titus rounded the newel post at the top of the first floor.

“Looks like the Executive Guard’s finally good for something,” Titus mumbled at his side. “At least they’re keeping the rubberneckers back from your nuptials.”

Zander peered down to where someone was arguing with the two guards at the door. When the guard on the left tried to muscle the person back, a small voice said, “Get
your hands off her.” The guard went sailing backward to land on his ass on the shiny marble floor.

Zander froze. He knew that voice. He moved down three steps, his eyes searching for his son.

“Zander! Wait!” Callia broke free of the second guard and sprinted across the lobby toward him. Zander’s eyes grew wide. Shouts rang out behind Callia. In his peripheral vision, Zander saw Titus speed past him toward the door, but he barely cared. All he saw was her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked when she reached him. “Max. I thought I heard—”

“Max is fine.” Callia’s chest rose and fell with her labored breathing, and her cheeks were rosy and wet, as if she’d just run a mile in the rain. “He can’t flash to save his life, though.” A hysterical laugh slipped from her perfect mouth. “He can take down a demigod, but he can’t flash. He gets that from my side of the family, you know. Overachievers have trouble with the simplest tasks.”

His brow lowered as his eyes searched her face. He was having trouble following her, had no idea why she was here, but couldn’t look away if his life depended on it. “Callia, if nothing’s wrong with Max, then what are you doing here?”

“I…” Her eyes shifted to the side, and his followed. He caught sight of his son, just as wet and out of sorts as she was, near the main doors, helping Titus set the guard on his feet.

Callia stepped in front of him, blocking his view, until all he saw was her face. “See? He’s fine. I…I needed to see you. To talk to you before…” She swallowed hard, pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks. “Oh, gods. This sounded so much saner in my head on the way over here.”

“What are you—?”

“Oh, Zander. I lied.” Her hands moved to his chest, and even beneath the layer of leather and cloth, his skin warmed from the contact. “When you came to see me yesterday I thought I was making things easier, but I see now I wasn’t. All I was doing was taking away your hope, and no one
should have to live without that. I mean, you might as well be a daemon without it. And you’re not a daemon, are you?” She looked up at him with the softest eyes he’d ever seen. Like amethysts mined from the purest ores, polished to a gleaming shine.

Of course, she made no sense whatsoever, but when she looked at him like that, as if some part of her still cared, he could almost believe the things that had happened between them—all the really awful stuff—were nothing more than memories.

“Did you hear what I said, Zander?” Her hands landed gently on his face, and that warmth spread hot over his skin, drawing him back to her words. “I was wrong to take that from you. Just as I was wrong to keep my love for you to myself. It doesn’t change anything, I know that, but it wasn’t right and I—”

He gripped her arms. “What did you just say?”

“I said I was wrong.”

“No. The other part.”

Her face went all dreamy, just as it had in every fantasy he’d had of her over the years. “I said I love you. I’ve always loved you. Even when I thought I had a reason to hate you, I loved you. I should have told you before—so many times—but I was scared. I’m not scared anymore.”

His brain and heart clicked into gear at the exact same time. And even before the first bell tolled outside in the courtyard, he was pulling her toward the main doors.

“Zander. Wait. What are you doing?”

“We’ll go right now. We’ll get Max and go. The portal won’t be heavily guarded, not with everyone here. We—”

“No.”

The finality to her voice and the way she stopped short brought him around to look at her.

“No,” she said softer. “We’re not going anywhere. Nothing’s changed, Zander.”

“But you said—”

She moved in close, and the heat from her body drifted
up and around him, warming that place he thought had gone cold. “I said I love you, and I do. But that doesn’t change our reality.” Her hands rested gently on his breastplate again, right over the symbol of Achilles branded into the leather. “I’m your vulnerability, aren’t I?” At his silence she lifted her eyes, eyes so clear he was sure he could see himself in them. “Your weakness, your Achilles’ heel. Zander, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.”