Bound

Chapter Twenty-Three

Titus stood on one of the many roofs of the castle in Argolea and leaned against the railing, looking down at the courtyard below.

June had skipped across the land, the heat of summer bursting flowers on trees and vines, replacing the spring buds and occasional rain. But the warm summer wind blowing across his cheeks and under the collar of his shirt didn’t ease the chill inside. It only reminded him he was as cold and alone as he’d ever been.

“She looks like she’s adjusting fairly well.”

Theron.

Titus didn’t turn. Just continued to watch Natasa and Prometheus in the courtyard below. Midday sun glinted off her flame-red hair. She was wearing tight jeans that molded to her curvy hips and a fitted green T-shirt that matched her eyes. Holding her hand out, she summoned a giant fireball. He watched in awe as she manipulated the flames into a stalk, a fountain, then finally a tight ball again, which she blew away from her hand. The rolling knot of fire floated up in the air, growing smaller the higher it rose, until it finally burned out and disappeared in the sky.

Theron was right. Over the last two weeks, she had adjusted to life in Argolea. Very well. Though the Council was still griping about all the Misos who’d been evacuated to their land, they hadn’t even protested the fact Natasa and her father were here. Of course, the fact Prometheus was a Titan and could smite them in one breath probably didn’t hurt matters.

Prometheus, for his part, was helping the Argonauts look for the last remaining element—water—but so far they’d had no luck. Even he didn’t know exactly where it had landed after he’d scattered the elements in the human world. After thousands of years, the shape of the planet had changed, and water was the most variable of all.

In his spare time, Prometheus was educating the queen about the gods and Krónos and teaching Natasa to use her new gifts. Titus still sometimes had trouble realizing she was the real deal—unquenchable fire. But unlike the Armageddon the ancient texts all made her out to be, she was more. She had the strength to release or control it all within herself. And though eventually she’d be able to manipulate fire into the other elements, she couldn’t yet. Titus still harbored a shitload of anger toward the god who’d passed the fire element to his daughter, knowing it would cause her intense suffering until it consumed and resurrected her, but even he could see Prometheus cared for her.

An eagle soared through the sky, swept over the castle wall, and screeched as it flew above Natasa and her father. It landed a few feet from Natasa on the green grass, spread its wings, and screeched again as if to say, Come over here and pay attention to me. Natasa smiled and held out her hand, then took a step toward the bird. Just before she reached it, the bird fluttered its wings and took off for the sky again. She shielded her eyes against the sun and watched it fly away. But there was a look in her eyes…a sadness…a longing…

Pain.

His heart twisted into a hard knot beneath his ribs. It killed him to see her so unhappy. They’d spent the last two weeks tip-toeing around each other. He was still spending nights with her in her room, but they were both growing increasingly frustrated with the situation. And lying next to her at night when she was asleep was pure agony. To be near her like that and not be able to touch her…

Gods, he hated this. Hated, even more, that Theron was standing behind him now, watching him suffer. He’d decided to stay with the Argonauts—mostly at Natasa’s insistence—but he was only half-committed at best. And Theron knew it.

“How did you find me?” Titus finally asked, unable to stand the silence—and prying eyes.

“I followed the sound of ultimate misery.”

Fucker. Titus huffed. “You’re a comedian now. Great.”

Theron grinned. Then his features sobered, and he stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “I’ve been where you are, T. More times than I want to count. And each time I thought I’d lost Acacia…” Theron’s voice grew thick. “I know it’s torture

It wasn’t just torture. It was a living hell, watching your soul mate suffer and nearly die. Except in Theron’s case, he could wrap his arms around Casey and hold her close. Reassure himself. And her. Convince them both that life went on. That everything would be fine. Titus couldn’t do that.

Theron pulled his hands from his pockets and leaned his forearms against the railing next to Titus. “It probably won’t make you feel any better to know it never gets easier, but I can tell you nothing is better, either. Finding your soul mate… I’d rather cherish one day with Acacia than live a lifetime alone. Not knowing her…that would be the true definition of torture.”

Below, Natasa turned to look up his way, and he tried to smile, to reassure her that everything was good, but from the worry he saw in her eyes, he knew he failed.

That knot twisted tighter.

“Anyway,” Theron went on, “I want you to know she’s one of us now. Not because of what’s inside her or what she can do, or even because Prometheus is her father, but because she’s your soul mate. We take care of our own.”

Brotherhood reverberated through Titus’s chest—a feeling he hadn’t felt with his kin in…he didn’t know how long.

“She always has a place with us,” Theron said. “No matter what happens with the Orb. No matter what happens between the two of you.”

A lump formed in Titus’s throat. He tried to swallow it back. Couldn’t. No one knew what was happening with the Orb just yet. Whether or not Natasa would be able to conjure tangible fire in the form of an element to place inside the Orb. Whether or not they’d eventually locate the water element. Whether or not the Orb could even really be destroyed once they did. But most importantly, none of them knew what was happening with Nick. And yet…one thing became crystal clear to Titus in that moment.

He would never be free of his duty. And…deep down, he didn’t want to be free. He was an Argonaut, not because of any vow he’d taken or any gift he’d been given, but because doing the right thing and protecting those around him were as much a part of him as was his heart. To shun that side of himself would be shunning what had drawn him to Natasa in the first place.

“Thanks,” he managed, not knowing what else to say.

Theron stepped away from the railing. He stared at Titus. But whatever else he was thinking, he blocked from Titus’s ability to read. Which was good. Because Titus wasn’t sure he could handle any more just now.

“I think you should take some time off from the Argonauts,” Theron said. “As much as you need. Things are quiet right now, and with O and Skyla here, we can cover for you for a while. When you’re ready to come back, we’ll be here.”

That lump grew bigger. Just great. All the Argonauts knew he was fucked-up right now. This was why he’d never wanted to find his soul mate. Because he knew once he did, he’d never be the same. But even realizing that, he knew he wouldn’t go back to the way he’d had been before, even if he could.

He forced himself to nod and looked back down at Natasa. She was manipulating fire again with Prometheus, but this time she was smiling and laughing. A glowing, twisting, swirling light in the middle of a world Titus had only known as dark and dreary.

“Okay,” Theron said in quiet voice. He moved for the door that led back inside.

“Theron?”

The leader of the Argonauts stopped with one hand on the door handle. “Yeah?”

“You might want to prepare yourself for a little more of that torture.”

“Why?”

Titus glanced over his shoulder. “Casey’s pregnant. Her thoughts have been banging off the castle walls. I tried to ignore them, but skata, the female projects…loudly.”

Theron’s face paled. “Oh my gods.”

Titus smiled. The first real smile he’d felt in weeks. “I’m sure she’ll tell you soon. She’s been trying to figure out a way. Try to act surprised when she does.”

Excitement brightened Theron’s features, then lurched to ice-cold fear. “Holy shit.”

Titus chuckled. “Torture. Yep.” He turned back to the courtyard. “Payback’s a bitch, ain’t it?”

The door slammed. Theron’s footsteps faded into the warm midmorning air.

Alone, Titus crossed his arms on the railing and leaned his chin against his arms. The humor he’d felt before leaked out as he watched Natasa and was replaced with the most intense yearning he’d ever felt.

Theron was right. Spending just one day with her was better than a lifetime of being alone, even if he couldn’t touch her. But gods, he missed her. Missed feeling her skin against his, missed holding her, missed falling asleep with her in his arms and waking with her draped over his body, warming him, making him feel something other than empty.

“She’s in front of you. Stop moping and go get her.”

Startled by the voice, Titus jerked up and turned. The petite, frail creature dressed in diaphanous white sat on the far railing, studying him with a What the hell are you waiting for? expression.

Lachesis. The Fate. The one who spun the thread of life. His pulse picked up speed. But instead of awe and surprise, anger and frustration condensed inside him. “What do you want?”

Her wrinkled cheeks creased with a smile. Her hair was long and white, her feet so small he wondered how she stood on them. “I’ve had unwelcoming greetings, but yours, descendent of Odysseus, probably tops them all.”

Titus clenched his jaw. She wanted him to be thankful she was here? Where had she been when he’d been alone all these years? Where had she been when his life had been in the shitter? When Natasa had been suffering because of that damn element?

“I’ve always been here, Guardian. You just weren’t paying attention.”

In that moment, he knew instinctively that she wasn’t here to change their situation. If she could—if she wanted to—she’d have done it already.

He moved for the door.

“I watch you always. Some guardians need me to steer them in the right direction when they blow off course. But not you. You’re one who hasn’t needed my advice. Until now.”

He turned and glared at her, then opened his mouth to tell her just what she could do with her advice.

“The knowledge you hold doesn’t just come from the Orb,” she said. “Or Odysseus. It comes from inside you. You were given a gift no other guardian could handle. The ability to read minds. That is an incredible power, Titus.”

Incredible power. Yeah right. “And I was punished for it.”

“You were cursed with feeling others’ emotions because you lacked self-control. The Fates never expected you to be perfect. But we’re very impressed with the way you’ve mastered that control over these long years.”

“So take the curse away.”

“I can’t. The curse did not come from the Fates. It came from witchcraft. And that is something neither I, nor my sisters, can change.”

Then why the fuck were they having this conversation? Titus took another step for the door.

“Think, Guardian. How does Natasa regulate the fire inside her?”

Titus’s feet stilled, and a tingling started in his chest then drifted through every limb. Slowly, he looked over the railing down toward Natasa.

“She made a great sacrifice for you,” Lachesis said softly. “Sometimes sacrifice can only be met with sacrifice.”

He glanced back at the Fate. But instead of the elderly female he’d been talking with, an eagle sat perched on the far railing.

He stared at the bird, then remembered the eagle that had swooped over him when he’d climbed the castle wall after Natasa. The one who’d led him to Natasa in that field. Who’d taken him to Calypso’s cottage. And the one that had sailed over this courtyard only moments before, taunting and screaming, as if…encouraging him.

The eagle spread its wings, screamed an ear-piercing squawk that vibrated through every cell in his body, then lurched from the railing. It flew over his head and dive-bombed the courtyard.

He rushed to the railing, gripped it in both hands and looked down. The eagle pulled up just before it reached Natasa. Her father yelled. She shielded her head. Gently, the eagle tapped the crown of her head with its claws, then screeched again and sailed high.

Surprised, Natasa looked up. The eagle circled the courtyard once, then soared through the sky, heading for the sun.

Natasa twisted, glancing up at the roofline to where Titus stood. Confusion and disbelief swirled in her gemlike eyes.

And in that moment, everything finally made sense. Every touch, every breath, every hour had come to this. She’d sacrificed all that she was for him. He had to be willing to sacrifice the same for her. Even if he failed, she had to know what he was willing to do for her.

For the first time in weeks, something other than misery bloomed inside Titus.