Bound

Chapter Fourteen

Silence echoed through the room. Titus’s pulse pounded hard. He stared Theron down. “There is no choice.”

Theron’s jaw clenched. He looked toward the queen. Unspoken words passed between them. To Zander, he said, “Go get her.”

Zander pushed away from the wall. Titus scrambled to block his path. “Don’t, Z.”

Zander’s expression softened. “Come on, T. You know I won’t hurt her.”

Titus believed that, but it was Theron he didn’t trust. The leader of the Argonauts was all business unless it came to his soul mate. If the roles were reversed, if it were Casey they were talking about, this wouldn’t even be a question. “You’re not touching her.”

Isadora turned to her sister. “Give me the Orb.”

Callia pulled the Orb of Krónos from a bag slung over her shoulder and resting against her hip. The circular-shaped disk caught the light shining down from the ornate chandelier. It was divided into four chambers, two of which were filled with the elements they’d already found: air and earth. The other two—directly opposite each other—were empty. The stamp of Krónos, the king of the elder gods and the bitch of a god the Argonauts were trying to keep locked in the Underworld, shone brightly in the very center.

They’d risked bringing the Orb to the human realm? Something else was going on here. Titus’s gaze flicked past Zander toward the queen, then to Theron. “What the hell is this about?”

Isadora held the Orb out to him. “Just hold it. See if anything comes to you.”

Comes to him? What the hell were they smoking?

“Take it, Titus,” Theron said. “We know about the witch’s curse. You can either cooperate or we can knock you on your ass and make you hold it.”

Sweat spread down Titus’s spine, and his pulse roared. They knew about the curse. He looked warily at the Orb. They were playing some kind of game. Trying to distract him so they could go after Natasa. So they could—

“Stupid son of a bitch.” Zander grasped Titus’s wrist in one hand, grabbed the Orb from the queen with the other, and slapped it into Titus’s palm.

Emotions flowed from Zander into Titus—anticipation, fear, anxiety—followed by a shot of gut-wrenching pain that stole Titus’s breath and sent him doubling over. But there was something else. A low buzz echoed in his ears—the same one he always heard when he was near the Orb—and it was growing stronger. Muffled words, ancient voices, sounds he couldn’t place bombarded him.

One voice cut through all the rest.

“Titus. Oh gods…what did you do to him?”

Natasa’s voice.

Heat spread through Titus’s body. He needed to see her face and tried to turn and look, but the pain intensified, followed by a tingling in his fingers that grew stronger, then rocketed into his arm and shoulder and finally shot straight to his brain.

He gasped. Synapses fired. Images flashed behind his eyes. An electrical current arced through every cell and exploded in a burst of white-hot fire.

“He’s seizing!”

“Titus!”

Sound dissipated. His brain felt like it was on overload, like it might explode. The flood of information didn’t stop.

Then everything came to a screeching halt. Sound slowly returned. The draw and push of air in his lungs. His rapid-fire pulse. He blinked several times. And stared up into Natasa’s worried face. Her lips were moving, but he couldn’t hear her voice. Heat seeped into his skin—her heat—warming him from the outside in. And those where her fingers against his arms, his face, turning him to look at her.

He was lying on the hardwood floor. Behind her head, the fuzzy outline of a chandelier hanging high above came into view. When had he lain down? He didn’t remember hitting the ground. Didn’t remember anything but holding the Orb and—

Holy skata.

His eyes grew wide. Muffled words echoed to his ears, grew clearer. Familiar voices, not of ancient heroes but of his kin.

“Titus?” Natasa cradled his face in her hands. “Talk to me.”

“No, don’t touch him,” Callia said somewhere close. “Just let her.”

“Fuck the gods.” Demetrius. That was Demetrius’s voice, but Titus couldn’t see the guardian. All he could see was Natasa. Her emerald-green eyes, her red hair like a halo of fire around her face, her sweet, tempting lips he knew were so wickedly soft.

“Do you think it worked?” someone said.

“We’ll see,” someone else answered.

“He can’t read her, right?” Theron. That was Theron talking about him like he wasn’t in the damn room. Talking about Titus’s soul mate like she was a thing, not a living, breathing person.

Anger raged through his blood. He struggled to sit up. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not to the gods and not to the Argonauts. He knew now how to find her father. Clarity and knowledge had spread from the Orb into him like they’d hoped, but he wasn’t sharing an ounce of it with them.

“Gently,” Natasa said, grasping his shoulders and easing him upright. “Take deep breaths.”

Gods, he loved that she cared. Loved that she was here. Her fingers were warm, her scent swirling in the air to make him light-headed. Loved…her.

He gripped her hand for stability and to keep her close. Lena had left her fresh clothes, which she’d changed into before coming out to find him. Instead of the nightgown she’d been wearing when they’d moved her from the infirmary, she was now dressed in slim jeans and a fitted white T-shirt. And he was thankful. Thankful the Argonauts couldn’t see all of her because that was only for him.

He leaned back against a couch and kicked his legs out in front of him. Then turned his glare toward the others in the room. “What the hell was that?”

“You tell us,” Theron answered expectantly.

Titus glanced from Theron to the queen and back again. He was going to have to play this good if he had any hope of getting them to back down. “I don’t know. But it wasn’t all that different from what I get when someone touches me. Thanks, Z, by the way.”

Zander shoved his hands in his pocket. Shifted his feet.

Silence settled over the room.

“Epimetheus might have been wrong,” Demetrius said quietly from the far side of the room.

Natasa shot a worried look down at Titus.

He squeezed her hand to try to reassure her. And to warn her not to say a word. He glared toward Theron. “You’re basing your info on the father of afterthought? Since when is the fool of the gods considered reliable?”

Theron’s jaw clenched. He stared hard at Natasa. Beneath Titus’s hand, her temperature jumped. “I think it’s time the redhead and I had a nice long chat about Prometheus. Alone.”

“No fucking way.” Panic resurged. Titus found his feet and used the wall to push himself up.

Natasa moved quickly in front of him and pressed a warm hand against his chest. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

His gaze raked hers. She didn’t know what she was doing. “No, ligos Vesuvius.”

She let go, stepping away before he could stop her. He reached for her but his limbs were still too weak to follow, and he slumped against the wall.

Squaring her strong shoulders, she turned and faced the leader of the Argonauts. “You want to talk. Fine. We’ll talk. Prometheus is my father. And at the moment, I’m all that’s standing between your life and death.”

Hades sat in the leather chair and tapped his long fingers against the stone slab that made up his desk. Wide windows looked out at the swirling red sky and black, jagged mountains far off in the distance. Cries of agony and despair floated on the hot wind, their owners paying for whatever misdeeds they’d done in life.

There’d been a time when he’d enjoyed the suffering. When he’d drawn strength from the misery. But now only disdain rippled through him as every sound met his ears. He was sick of the dead. Sick of being the one responsible for judgment, sentencing, and punishment. He was ready for a major life change, and he was counting on his son to make that happen.

The door to his personal study pushed open, and fury raged through him at the lack of a knock. But when his wife, Persephone, swept into the room in her deep purple gown with her black-as-sin hair falling like a waterfall down her back, that fury twisted to uncontrolled lust.

“Kore…” He pushed from his chair, lurched down the three steps and caught her in a fierce embrace. She’d been with her mother on Olympus, and he was starving for her.

“My king.”

He yanked her close and took her mouth in hard, vicious kiss. One that was both punishing and erotic at the same time. Lust swirled in the air, overpowering every sense. She answered by scoring her nails across his back and biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste slid over his tongue, mixed with her essence and the wine she must have drunk earlier in the day. He growled low in his throat, kissed her harder and had her pinned against the wall before he realized it wasn’t time for her to return to the Underworld. Not yet, at least.

He pulled back from her mouth, looked down into her dark and sinful eyes, and tamped down the lust, for a moment. “Your father let you go?”

A wicked smile curled one side of her lips. “I convinced him I was too miserable to stay on Olympus without seeing you for at least a fortnight.”

He knew that mischievous look. And he knew his brother. “You mean you whined so much he was more than happy to get rid of you for a few days.”

“Something like that.” Her eyes darkened. “Your females can’t satisfy you the way I can. Tell me, husband. Did you miss me?”

“More than life itself.” He dipped back down to kiss her again. Stroked his tongue against hers until she moaned. He had his pick of females when she was gone, but he preferred her to anyone else. And it wasn’t all that fun toying with his slaves when she wasn’t around to watch…or interact.

She tightened her fingers against his shoulder and lifted one leg, wrapping around his hip, kissing him back with every ounce of passion he was showering on her. The heat of her mound pressed against his swollen cock, and she pushed her hips forward and back, rubbing herself against him. Her dress fell down her leg. He ran his hand up the sweet, sensitive flesh until he found her ass, then squeezed.

“Little minx. You’re going to make me spend in my pants.”

“Not yet, husband.” She tipped her head so he could bite her neck, then sighed even though he knew it had to hurt. “I’ve something to tell you. I didn’t come back just for this, though this is more than enough to draw me home time and again.”

“No?” He closed his lips over her earlobe and tugged.

“No. I came to tell you our son works against us. He moves to take Prometheus’s daughter and the fire element for himself. They are one in the same.”

Hades’s lips stilled against her throat. He pulled back to look into her dark eyes. “How do you know this?”

“I overheard Zeus and Athena discussing strategy. Zagreus recently visited Epimetheus. Suspicions rise that the elder god told our son where the fire-girl is hiding.”

Hades slowly lowered his wife’s leg to the floor. “How would the ass-hat know that?”

“Because she travels with an Argonaut. And Argonauts also recently visited Epimetheus as well.”

The Argonauts. Fury flared in Hades’s veins. He let go of Persephone and stepped back. The meddling heroes were always fucking with his plans. And because they were now hiding Maelea—the Stain—from him, he had no more use for them. He should have ground them all to dust when he had the chance.

“Where?” he said between clenched teeth. “Where is she hiding?”

“I don’t know exactly. But Zeus’s Sirens tracked Zagreus and his satyrs moving north. We know the Argonauts have joined forces with the half-breeds. Athena suspects they move toward the half-breed colony.”

Of course that was where the Argonauts would be hiding the girl. He wasn’t sure why they weren’t protecting her in Argolea where the Olympian gods couldn’t cross, but he was thankful for the fact she was still in the human realm. It was easier to take her there than to have to slink around Argolea. Even though he and Persephone—not technically Olympians—could cross into the blessed realm of the heroes, there were places there inaccessible to them. Like the queen’s bloody castle.

No one knew where the half-breed colony was located, but if Athena was tracking Zagreus north…

Another shot of boiling fury whipped through Hades’s veins when he realized who else had betrayed him. His brothers—Poseidon and Zeus—were moving on their own, without contacting him. Against the pact they’d agreed to.

Fucking shagging pile of shit. Not that it surprised him, but it did royally piss him off.

He turned his rage toward his queen. “Our son will be punished for this.”

“Of course. And the element? What will you do with her when you have her?”

She was Prometheus’s daughter. As far as Hades was concerned, the elder god had gotten off easy being punished by Zeus in the human realm rather than locked in Tartarus with Krónos and the other Titans like he deserved. His daughter wouldn’t be so lucky.

“She’s mine.”

Persephone’s eyes flashed. “Only if I get to watch.”

Lust reignited in his groin—a lust he’d have to delay, at least for now. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. Come, Kore. We have a battle to begin.”