Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) (15 page)

Could this be love, she wondered? As an Amazon, the only form of love she’d known was a sisterhood between the other warriors. But even that was more duty than desire. She was loyal to her tribe because she’d been trained to do so. No one had trained her to feel this way about Zarek. These feelings came from a place deep inside that she never knew was there. It was the same empty void that had been filled the day she gave birth to Sander. There was something missing in her life. There was a sad emptiness that only Zarek could fill. How she wished she had someone to confide in. If only someone could give her the answers she needed to hear.

She felt so alone and longed for the comfort of her baby cuddled to her chest. She had nowhere to go now where anyone understood her. She hadn’t gone to the Amazons today, knowing her mother would reprimand her severely for letting Zarek steal the thunderbolt from her. She could have caught him on her horse and wrestled it from him had she wanted to, taking back what she had really collected.

But she hadn’t.

She had sat on her horse and watched him race away, not even trying to stop him. Disgust ate away at her conscience, knowing no Amazon warrior would have accepted defeat so easily. She was a failure as an Amazon warrior and would never live up to the expectations of someday being their queen. Who was she trying to fool? She didn’t have the qualifications.

King Zarek of Thrace had taken control of her mind as well as her senses. She could never rule an entire Amazon nation if she could not even control her emotions around a mere man.

She didn’t feel she could go back to Amazon lands, and neither did she feel she had the right to stay within the walls of Thrace. She sobbed bitterly into the pillow, and when her tears were spent she knew there was only one thing to do. She had to leave Thrace tonight. Before Zarek came to the room and offered his kisses and caresses for no other reason than to try to gain her secrets. She was so vulnerable right now, she would probably fall into his arms like the weak ladies he so admired. No, she decided. She needed to remain strong. For Sander. She needed to see this challenge through and bring back her son where he truly belonged. With her. With his mother.

She pulled back the covers and got out of bed. Knowing what she needed, she flipped open the lid of a foot trunk. She would not wear wet clothes into the dark night. She wanted a fresh, clean tunic wrap and a cloak to keep her from the night chill. Inside she found exactly that.

They were a man’s clothes - Zarek’s to be exact, but she no longer cared. She donned his tunic wrap and pulled it tightly around her waist. Then she covered herself in the long, lush amethyst robe meant for a king. Her thumb went to her finger to twirl her ring, but alas, ’twas still missing. She doubted she would ever regain the icon denoting her status as princess of the Amazons. Then, she wondered if she really cared.

She slammed down the lid of the trunk and made her way to the door. Her hand was upon the latch when she heard Daedalus’s voice from the corridor.

“Are you certain there is naught I can do to prepare you for tomorrow’s challenge, my king?”

“Nay, Daedalus. I will not be needing your help this time.”

How confident he was that he could bring back the chalice of the god Dionysus without help. And how certain she was that she had no chance whatsoever to win the challenge, now that Zarek had thought to knock her trustworthy sword into the moat.

The latch moved as Zarek tried to enter.

“Open up, Lysandra. Open the door and let me in.”

She had no doubt he would break the door down if she didn’t heed his command. She had to stall for time until she thought of how to escape.

“Wait, my good king,” she said, pushing a chair in front of the door and then heading for the trunk. “I am indecent and would not have you looking upon my nakedness.”

“Zeus’s eyes, Lysandra. I am the father of your child. ’Tis naught I have yet to see. Now open the door.”

She pushed the trunk over the rushes, clearing the path down to the bare wood as she blocked his means of entry.

“I choose to sleep alone tonight. I am tired, so please leave me be.”

She ran to the bed and tugged the bed covers back, pulling the thin linens underneath to her, exposing the hay-stuffed mattress. Then she started ripping the linens in strips and knotting the ends together.

“What is that noise?” His muffled voice sounded from behind the heavy wooden door, tired and impatient.

“I…I… It is the crackling of the fire. Now please leave, as I am retiring for the night.”

“Not without first opening this door, you’re not. I am king of Thrace and no one, not even a stubborn Amazon princess will keep me from my bed this night.”

Lysandra wrapped one end of the crafted rope for her escape around herself and tied the other end to the leg of the bed. She then ran to the window and pulled open the shutters, looking out with trepidation to see the ground so far below. She had one foot on the sill of the window when he growled out his warning.

“You had best not fake your sleep this night or ’twill not be a pretty sight. I will come to my bed, and if you happen to be in it, then I will do what I please with you. Whether it be to turn you over my knee and spank you or take you in coupling all night long until you cry out again and again in exuberant elation, you will have no say if you so boldly choose to keep this door locked.”

Just the thought had Lysandra considering changing her plans. Memories of her coming-of-age flitted through her brain. She longed to be in his arms. Longed for his kisses. But he had proved to her he only did it for personal gain. Simple, unadulterated lust, she could have accepted, but not trickery. Nay, she would not stay. He would not have her this night.

She hurried back to the bed, lining up the pillows as if to look like she were within, then pulled the coverlet up over them. The door shook under Zarek’s pounding fist and she looked back to it quickly, and then with one last thought, extinguished the bedside candle.

Back to the window she went, testing her weight on the line against the heavy bed. Then, satisfied it would hold her, she lowered herself out the window.

*  *  *

Zarek banged on the door, furious at the way Lysandra was acting. Once again she’d defied him, making him look like a fool in front of Daedalus. Her Amazon brashness was going too far, as to keep him from his own bedchamber.

“Perhaps you should just let her be,” suggested Daedalus, leaning against the wall. “After all, it might be to your advantage to have a good night’s rest. Something I’m sure will not happen with her in the room.”

“Nay, old man. I will not let her take control while in my castle! I am the king of Thrace, and she will learn to respect me.”

“Aye,” he said with a sigh. “Shall I call the sentries with a battering ram to break down the door, my king?”

“I do not need sentries to gain entry into my own chamber. And I will not wait for her to open it any longer.”

With one powerful thrust of his leg, he managed to loosen the bar hold on the opposite side of the door. One more hit with his shoulder, and he’d managed to open the entry. But when he took a step inside in the dark, he stumbled upon something blocking his way, and fell.

“Damnation, what is this?” he asked, reaching down to find his chair, broken, and the trunk right behind it.

“’Tis dark,” replied Daedalus, “but I’d say it looks as if the Amazon truly meant to keep you out.”

Zarek threw the chair to the side, and with one shove, sent the trunk sliding across the floor, rushes scattering everywhere in the process.

“Lysandra, you try my patience.”

He could see her wet clothes on a heap by the fire, and the form of her body beneath the covers. She did not answer him, but lay still, waiting.

“Shall I light a candle?” asked Daedalus, taking a step into the room.

“Nay.” He held out his hand to stop him. “I will not need you any more this night.”

He saw Daedalus look to the clothes at the fire, then to the bed and then back to Zarek. A smile crossed his face in understanding.

“As you wish,” he replied with a slight bow, and left the room.

Zarek closed the door, standing inside the darkened room, alone with Lysandra.

“Lysandra,” he said softly, “I know you are not sleeping, so answer me.”

To his dismay, she did not answer. She didn’t even move. He walked over to the table and removing his sword, laid it atop. Then he removed his wet clothing and spread it before the fire. He picked up Lysandra’s clothes lying in a heap, and spread them out on the hearth to dry as well.

Her essence clung to his hands now, and thoughts of her lying naked in wait in his bed had him ready to take her. He hadn’t meant to do this, but now he could see naught else would work. He could not lay next to her, naked, and not want to feel her warm body pressed up against his. His loins had ached for her for over nine months now. She had once taken him without asking, and now it was time for him to repay the favor.

“I cannot wait any longer, Lysandra. I would like you to agree to our coupling, but if you will not speak, than I shall be forced to take you without your agreement.”

He stood and made his way to the bed. Her still form did not move beneath the covers.

“I want you Lysandra, and I know you want me too. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. I feel it in your kiss. Though you are too stubborn to admit it, you have feelings for me just as I do for you. You cannot hide the truth from me, nor yourself. If only you would tell me, things could be so much better between us. We need to be together this night. Do not try to fight me, Lysandra.”

Being able to wait no longer, he reached out his arm to pull back the covers then stopped. Just what in Tartarus he was doing? His own lust had caused him to want her so badly, he would have taken her without her permission. But in his heart, he knew he could not do so. She was the mother of his child. She had carried Sander and birthed him, and suckled him to her breast. He’d seen the tenderness in her eyes and felt the love for their child in her voice as she had sung and rocked him to sleep.

He wanted to tell her he thought she would make a good mother. He wanted to tell her while he lusted for her, there was a space in his heart that was vacant when she wasn’t with him. He tugged at the ring on his finger, meaning to give it to her, but it would not budge. She was right. He had taken every last thing from her, leaving her with naught else but a splinter of a hope of winning the challenge tomorrow, and having Sander returned to her.

“I’m sorry, Lysandra. I did not mean to be so forceful. I will let you sleep tonight, and will not come to the bedside again.”

She still didn’t answer, and Zarek knew she was severely hurt by what he’d done. He didn’t deserve the pleasures of coupling with her after the way he’d acted. She was right. He hadn’t changed. Not really. He expected her to give up her ways, her life, and he was willing to compromise nothing in return. Sander was her child as well as his. He didn’t know what she planned on doing when she regained the baby, but he would just have to trust her. And there was only one way for him to show her this trust. One way for him to show her his feelings for her were true and strong. He would leave her now, and in the morning tell her he would not continue with the challenge. Sander would be hers, and he would prepare his defense to go up against the wrath of Artemis.

He turned to leave, and in the darkness, his eye caught sight of something white tied to the leg of the bed. He made his way across the room and bent to feel the bed linens.

“What in the name of Zeus is this?” His fingers ran along the length, and it led him directly to the window. He leaned out and could see the rope of bed linens dangling in the breeze.

“Lysandra?” he said, the void of her voice only confirming his suspicions. He lit the bedside candle, and the room lit up in an orange glow. Her form under the coverlet was still visible, but now he realized it was large and lumpy and held not the shape of a woman’s contours.

He ran to the bed and tore back the bed covers, his eyes settling upon the pillows underneath.

“Nay. I do not believe it.”

Lysandra was gone. Once again she had made him feel foolish. While he was ready to give up everything to prove he trusted her, she was not willing to change at all for him. Why had he expected anything different? After all, she was a man-hating Amazon and would probably never change. Why had he thought she would?

“Damn, you, Lysandra. You have deceived me for the last time.”

He banged open the lid of the trunk, seeing his best tunic wrap and robe were gone. He had no doubt in his mind she had already started the challenge. He could not let her get away with this. She would not get Sander by ways of trickery. This had to stop. He quickly dressed and headed out the door, only to be met by Daedalus coming up the steps with a platter of food and mug of ale.

“I thought you two might like a bit to eat,” he said, confusion on his face at seeing Zarek leaving the room.

“One of us would,” he said, grabbing the mug of ale and quaffing it on his way down the stairs.

Daedalus followed quickly at his heels. “Have you had another quarrel with the Amazon princess?” he asked.