Unchained: An Eternal Guardians Novella (3 page)

“Find me. I’m waiting. I’m waiting only for you
...”

The throaty feminine voice caused Prometheus to turn his head. All other sound drifted to the background as he focused on one thought:

She was back. The mystery apparition from his dreams. The one he’d desperately wanted to touch and taste and devour yesterday in his castle.

“Find me...”

He pulled the stalk of wheat from his mouth, dropped it on the ground, and pushed to his feet. A flitter of white disappeared in the trees.

His heart rate shot up. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he followed, his blood warming with every step. He’d lain awake long into the night rationalizing she was a hallucination. At best, he figured she was a ghost. Either way, he wanted to know why she was haunting him, and there was no better time to find out than right now.

The light faded as he entered the copse of trees. Leaves rustled in the warm breeze. Grass and rocks gave way to a carpet of moss. The rippling edge of white chiffon disappeared behind a tree, the fabric’s movement like a lighthouse beacon drawing him home in the dark of night.

He stepped around the trunk of the tree and drew to a stop when he spotted her, standing barefoot in the distance, the straps of the white gown hanging from her delicate shoulders, following the curves at her waist and hips. Ribbons of sunlight filtering through the canopy caught in the fire-red hair spilling down her spine in gentle curls, the color of heat, of flames, of desire and passion.

Slowly, she turned and smiled at him with candy-red lips and eyes that gleamed like emeralds. Her nose was straight with a tiny flare at the tip, her cheekbones high, her skin so pale it looked like newly fallen snow. And even before she spoke he felt himself falling under her wicked spell all over again. The same way he had in his dreams. The same way he did every time he closed his eyes. The exact same way he had yesterday when she’d begged for his help then poofed out of his library with no explanation.

“Who are you?” he whispered, stepping forward.

Her smile faded. “Yours. I’m yours. Find me...”

Her words lingered in the air as she turned and ran.

His adrenaline shot into the stratosphere. “Wait!”

She didn’t stop, didn’t slow, and without even thinking he pushed his legs forward to follow.

She was fast for a hallucination. His muscles burned as he hustled to keep sight of her through the forest. She weaved her way around brush and trees. A small river rippled somewhere to the right. She darted in that direction, following the meandering water along its bank. He rounded a corner and slowed when he spotted the end of the path. A waterfall loomed ahead, the ground rising on both sides. Past the waterfall, a stone bridge spanned the river, and in the distance, a stately gazebo with marble columns and a domed ceiling overlooked the pristine sight.

Prometheus’s breathing slowed as he searched for the female, but he couldn’t see her. Long seconds passed with the only sound the water tumbling over rocks. Panic pushed in; panic that he’d lost her, that he’d never see her again, that—

A blur of white rushed across the bridge, moved into the trees, and zigzagged up the hillside toward the gazebo.

His heart kick-started all over again, and he looked toward the cliff ahead. The forest was dark here, but the rocks seemed to form...

Yes, they formed steps leading up the cliff face.

He moved toward the steps, climbing steadily until he reached the top. His legs moved as if they had a will of their own, driving him over the bridge and up the hill until he stood at the base of the gazebo.

It towered above, all ancient stone and marble, with ornate carvings and scrollwork, more temple than garden structure. Energy vibrated from inside, an energy he didn’t recognize. Pausing to catch his breath, he stilled and listened to the forest around him, tuning in to his god-sense for any indication of a threat.

“Find me, Titos...”

Her voice slithered over his skin like a sensual caress. Common sense told him to be careful, that he didn’t know who or what she really was, but desire pushed his feet up the steps and brought him to a stop at the doorway.

His fantasy stood in the middle of the octagonal room, flame-red hair curling down around her shoulders, gemlike eyes pinned on him, candy apple red lips curved in a wicked, for-his-eyes-only smile.

Forbidden images swept through his mind—the flimsy white gown slipping free of her delectable body, her hands coming up to caress her plump, perfect breasts, a catch of her breath as she slid one hand down her toned belly and into the thatch of red curls at the apex of her thighs.

Blood rushed into his groin, making him instantly hard. A moan echoed in his head...hers, his, he couldn’t tell which.

“Come, Titos.”

The words were a command he couldn’t ignore. He stepped one foot into the gazebo, and another. Her smile grew wider. Heat and the sweet scent of heliotrope surrounded him as he drew close.

“Touch me and make me real.”

Yesterday she’d wanted him to find her. Now she was telling him to touch her and make her real. Confusion pulled at his brows. “I don’t know how.”

She moved closer, until she was mere inches away, and lifted her chest so his attention dropped to her breasts heaving with her breath in the low-cut white dress. “Just touch me. Your Titan powers in this place will do the rest.”

His hand lifted as if guided by some unseen force, and as his fingers drew close, he thought he heard her whisper. His gaze darted toward her face, and he watched in a trance as her ruby-red lips moved quickly, the words barely audible.

Ancient Greek. He recognized the tongue, not what she was saying. His hand stilled. Her chanting grew louder. Just as he was about to pull back, she stepped into him, and his fingers passed through what should be her shoulder.

A flash of light illuminated the inside of the gazebo and quickly faded. Prometheus blinked several times and looked down only to realize the warm flesh and solid bones beneath his hand were real.

His gaze darted right back to her face. “Who are you?”

“I told you yesterday. My name is Keia.”

She stepped back, away from him, and in a daze he realized the gazebo was no longer dark and empty but illuminated by dozens of candles around the periphery that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere when he touched her. A thick rug made of red and gold swirls lay beneath his feet, a gold chaise with plump red pillows sat ahead. He turned to find two more plush chairs and dozens of soft, luxurious pillows scattered across the floor.

“What just happened?” he asked. “What is this place?”

“You’re a Titan.” She moved to a small table, uncapped a decanter and poured red liquid into two goblets. Handing him one, she stepped close once more and said, “Don’t tell me magic is new to you.”

He looked into his goblet as she sipped from her own. Wine, he guessed from the fruity scent, but it might just as well be poison. His gaze narrowed on her flawless features once more. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

“Neither am I. You’ve made me real. In this place, at least. For that I’m thankful.” She moved to the chaise and gestured to one of the chairs. “Sit and talk with me for a bit before it’s time for me to go. It’s been ages since I’ve had the chance to converse with anyone.”

He was having trouble keeping up. And that sweet scent of heliotrope combined with the rich scent of the wine was making him lightheaded. Or maybe
she
was making him lightheaded. He wasn’t sure which. “What do you mean before it’s time to go? And how are you real here when you weren’t at my castle?”

She sighed and lifted her wine to her lips once more. “I suppose an explanation is in order, but there are rules I must abide by. Not all things are allowed to be revealed.” She sipped her wine and lowered the goblet to her lap. “I have certain powers.”

His eyes narrowed with understanding. “You’re a witch.”

“Some may call me that. Others call me an enchantress. Regardless of the label, I created this gazebo with my magic. When you touched me within these walls, your Titan powers altered my apparition into flesh. Here I am real.”

He wasn’t exactly fond of witches. They’d never done anything for him. But magic was a very real thing in their world, and he was in no position to judge. “And when you leave this place?”

“I exist only in this realm in solid form within this gazebo.”

He stepped toward her. “I don’t understand. You said you were trapped. Who’s trapped you? And why—”

“That I cannot tell you, per the rules. What I can tell you is that I’ve long been fascinated by you, Prometheus. You were watching the Argoleans in the field earlier. Do you have the same affection for them as you do humans?”

She was switching topics way too fast. “Watching me, how?”

“With my magic, of course. It gives me the ability to look through windows. I do a lot of looking because of my confinement. What do they call it in the human realm? Oh yes. People watching.” A faraway, almost sad look filled her eyes. She shook her head and blinked several times, a weak smile curling the edges of her plump lips. “I much prefer being real with you here than watching you through that window.”

He sat beside her on the chaise, close enough to feel her heat surround him, but not quite close enough to touch. Though he wanted to touch her. He was itching to run his hand over her bare shoulder again. To slide his fingers through her luxurious hair. To pull her in and find out for himself if her lips were as soft and tempting as they looked. “Why me?”

Her smile widened as she turned to face him, and this close...gods, she was more beautiful than he’d expected. Her flawless features took his breath away.

“My, but you are full of questions,” she said.

Realizing he probably sounded like a ten-year old, he frowned. “I guess you could say it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone to talk to as well.”

“That’s why I’ve been watching you. Because we are so similar.” She sipped her wine again. “You didn’t answer my question about the Argoleans. In the field.”

All he wanted to do was go on peppering her with questions about why she was here, why she’d come to him, and how he could make her stay. But there was something about her... Something that made his pulse tick up and his body feel alive in a way it hadn’t in thousands of years. And if she had to leave soon—for whatever reason, he didn’t want to waste what little time they had left frustrating her, or him.

“The male in the field was an Argonaut. The female with him was my daughter.”

Keia’s eyes narrowed in question, then slowly relaxed as if she’d suddenly made connections in her mind. “Ah yes, your daughter. I almost forgot you had a daughter. And her mother? Are you—”

He shook his head. “A one time thing. She died thousands of years ago. She was a nymph who came across me during my imprisonment and eventually went on to marry an Egyptian prince.”

“Io?” A knowing light filled Keia’s eyes. “Your daughter’s mother was Io? I didn’t realize that.”

He nodded. This witch knew more about him than he’d thought. A voice in the back of his head warned him to be wary but he ignored it. “I didn’t even know Natasa existed until several years ago. Because of me, she suffered greatly. I’m in this realm because she’s here. Watching out for her is my way of...I don’t know, making up for a little of the pain I caused her.”

“That’s a very fatherly thing to do.”

He frowned. “Don’t get any ideas. I’m not a good father. Not even close.”

“I’m sure you’re a better father than you think.”

He huffed, lifted his wine. Paused when it was an inch from his lips and stared down into the goblet.

The sweet sound of feminine laughter floated around him. “Worried that cup is poisoned?”

His gaze slid her direction, and he caught the playful gleam in her eyes and the soft spray of freckles across the bridge of her nose he hadn’t noticed earlier. “I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t cross my mind.”

Smiling, she leaned forward and took the goblet from his hand, her slim fingers grazing his in the process to send sparks of electricity all through his arm. “Watch, Titos.”

She brought his cup to her mouth and sipped, her eyes locked on his the entire time. Lowering the goblet, she licked the droplet of wine from her bottom lip, then bit down gently with her top teeth until the succulent flesh darkened.

Heat spread through his whole body and shot into his groin, bringing his cock to life in a way it hadn’t been alive in thousands of years.

“See?” She handed the wine back to him. “No poison. Just decadent pleasure.”

He grew hard at the sexual innuendo, but there was still just enough common sense left in his head to make his eyes narrow. “Maybe it doesn’t affect you. You did say you were created from magic.”

“No, I said magic made me flesh and blood in this place so we could be together.” She leaned forward again, drawing his attention right to her delectable cleavage. “I assure you I am a living, breathing female in another realm, not just a figment of your imagination.”

Her eyes were hypnotic, her voice sultry and so damn erotic he could go on listening to her talk about anything. Somehow he pulled his attention away from her perfect breasts and looked deep into her emerald eyes. “What realm? Tell me where you are flesh and blood at all times so I can find you.”

“That would break the rules. And if we are to see each other again, I can’t break them. As for what I want, though...” Her breaths grew shallow as she drew even closer and her gaze dropped to his lips. “I think this want burning inside me is the same one that brought you to this place.”

Her hand landed against the back of the chaise, and she angled her face up toward his. The heat of her body surrounded him, consumed him, infused him with need. He lifted his hand to her neck, felt the soft, silken flesh beneath his fingers, and was powerless to hold back.

His mouth lowered to hers as if they were magnets, drawn together by a force neither could resist. Her supple lips brushed his...warm, sweet, tender yet intoxicating at the same time. He had an overwhelming urge to take her, to claim her, to make her his own, but he didn’t want to do anything to spook her, and he was still so confused about what and who she was. So he kissed her slowly. Slid his fingers into her sleek hair. Held back from the passion he wanted to release.