Entwined (27 page)

“I promise,” he said again.

She took a deep breath. Then turned and walked out of the circle toward the door.

Pain lanced through Zander’s chest as he watched. Pain and a renewed sense of fury that even now the truth had to be hidden. But it wouldn’t be for long.

When he heard the outer door click closed, he turned and glared at Callia’s father. Even though he didn’t want to, he capped his rage. Knew losing it now would do no good. At his back he heard Theron and the other Argonauts step in behind him. “No more lies,” he told Simon. “This time you tell the truth. What did you do with my son?”

Simon glanced once guiltily at Lucian, and then he started talking. But what came out of his mouth wasn’t anything Zander had ever expected to hear. And the cap on his rage blew free to boil up and over before Simon paused to take his first breath.

What was taking so long?

With one arm wrapped around her waist, Callia chewed on her thumbnail and paced the corridor outside the Council chambers. Her nerves were in high gear. Sickness welled in her stomach. There’d been some kind of commotion in the chamber just after she’d left the room, but Casey hadn’t let her go in and now she was going out of her mind wondering what the hell was happening.

Just when she was ready to plow through the wall to see what was going on, the chamber door pulled open and Titus stepped through the small opening.

He closed the door quickly at his back. Didn’t look happy. If anything, he looked pissed and…seriously disturbed. He moved to stand in front of her, but he didn’t speak.

“Where is Zander?” Callia asked.

“Inside. He can’t…” Titus paused. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to talk to him just yet.”

What the hell did that mean? Callia’s nerves jumped. “Titus, what did my father say in there?”

He looked down at her hands, now hanging by her sides, hesitated, then reached for them. He winced when he touched her, and she remembered the way he’d gone down to his knees in the cave when he’d touched her then. He never touched anyone—not on purpose—so the fact he was initiating contact now sent her anxiety into the out-of-this-world category. “Titus?”

He drew in a deep breath and focused on her hands. “Callia, he made a deal to save your life. You…There were
complications during the delivery. He says if he hadn’t done it, you would have died.”

“What kind of deal?”

His eyes came up level with hers. Hazel eyes that saw so much and yet not enough. “Your life for your son’s.”

Her life. One for another. The truth she’d dreaded was real. “So he really is dead.”

“I…”

The unease across his face drew her eyebrows together. “Titus, what?”

“Simon doesn’t know. The child was…alive…when the god left with him. He hasn’t seen either since.”

Her chest squeezed so tight she gasped. Her baby had been alive. He hadn’t died on that Greek mountain, in the middle of an earthquake, as she’d been led to believe. How could she not have known? Why hadn’t she felt it? And what would any god want with her child?

“Who?” she asked. “Who was it?”

“Callia—”

“Don’t placate me, Titus.” She wrenched her hands from his grip. “Tell me who it was.”

His jaw twitched, and she saw in his eyes that he didn’t want to tell her, but finally he said, “Atalanta.”

Her vision turned red and her pulse pounded in her veins. Before he could stop her, she flung the double doors open and spotted her father, still standing in the center of the circle, eyes wide and afraid as she advanced on him.

“Callia,” Titus called at her back. “Wait—”

“Callia,” Simon said, holding his hands up. “Just listen to what I have to say.”

“You son of a bitch. How could you?”

Voices echoed around her. She was aware there were other people in the room and that they were shouting, but she couldn’t make out their words. All she felt was pain. All she saw was betrayal. All she knew was the one person she’d trusted had done the unspeakable.

Arms locked tight around her waist and pulled her back.
She struggled, but they were made of steel and unrelenting. The buzz in her head made it hard to hear, but the haze over her vision was dimming, and slowly she realized her father was on his knees, his face red and scratched.

“Calm down, Callia,” Titus hissed in her ear. She zeroed in on her father’s face. She’d hit him. Hard, from the looks of it.

Her father lifted his head. Guilt and remorse reflected deeply in his eyes. “You have to understand, it was the only thing I could do.”

She braced her hands against the arm wrapped around her waist and tried to push free. “You gave my son to a monster!”

Her father shook his head. Dropped it. “I know. I know. But you would have died otherwise. And the child. I thought he was dead.”

“He was alive!”

“I…” He cringed. “I didn’t know that until they left. You have to believe me.”

Disgust roiled through her. Contempt for his words. But as she stared at her father, kneeling on the Alpha seal in the center of the circle with Lucian behind him and all of the Argonauts watching, the red haze dissipated. And her image of him as the honorable and unbreakable lord dissolved too.

Her body still vibrated, but she stopped fighting Titus. He whispered something in her ear, something she didn’t hear, then slowly eased her to the floor. But he didn’t completely let go of her, and from the corner of her eye she saw Theron was holding Zander back in the same way. And she realized that was why he hadn’t come out to talk to her as he’d promised.

“Why?” she asked, focusing on her father once more. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Simon shook his head. “I couldn’t. It was part of the agreement. She put a curse on you that limited your lifespan if I ever uttered a word to you about it.”

She glanced at Zander, who still looked ready to commit murder. Zander was the only other one who’d known she was pregnant, and her father had effectively separated them so no one would know what had happened.

The rage washed out of her, leaving behind pity and disdain.

“Let go of me, Titus,” she mumbled. “I’m not going to attack him again.”

Titus let go and stepped back, but he didn’t go far.

“Why me?” Callia asked her father. “Why my child? The Argonauts have been reproducing for thousands of years. What was so special about my baby?”

Her father sat back on his heels, reached up and rubbed two shaky hands over his face. If it was possible to look more guilty, he did then. But he didn’t answer. And in the silence dread pooled in Callia’s stomach.

“What else aren’t you telling me?” she asked hesitantly.

“I loved your mother,” Simon muttered. “When she died…”

Callia had been only seven when Anna had died. The Royal Healer had succumbed to something as ordinary as pneumonia. And her with a stronger immune system than most. It had never made sense. But looking back, a lot then hadn’t made sense. Something had happened between her parents. Something that had broken Anna’s will to live and tainted their marriage.

She stared into her father’s sad eyes as her mind spun. Why would Atalanta want her son over the hundreds of other Argonaut offspring over the years? Only one answer made sense.

“You’re not my real father, are you?”

Simon’s eyes fell closed. She ignored the pain in his features because right now she didn’t care. Right now there were more important things to discuss.

“Who?” she asked. “Who did she have an affair with?” She glanced around the room. “One of the Argonauts? You’ve hated them for so long. Was that why you didn’t want me to be with Zander?”

Unease churned in her stomach as her gaze settled on Zander, still being restrained by Theron. He was the oldest of the Argonauts, and he had probably known her mother, but her instinct said it hadn’t been him. She glanced at the others. They were all at least two hundred years old. She was only forty. It could be any one of them. It made sense. Argonaut lineage from both sides. Would that give a child enhanced powers?

“I…” Her father’s broken voice pulled her attention his way again. He sniffled. Swiped his forearm over his face. “If Anna hadn’t been a healer, none of this would have happened.”

Callia froze. And links, connections, threads she’d had no idea were entwined became crystal clear. The skin on the back of her neck, right at the base of her hairline, tingled.

She ran her fingers up under her hair, over the marking Lena had pointed out when she’d been at the colony. The one that was oddly…like the one on Isadora’s thigh.

“She had an affair with the king,” she whispered. Her gaze shot to Casey, standing at her right. Then to Isadora, across the room.

“Callia.” Her father pushed up to his feet. Held his hands out toward her. “I’m still your father. What she did…that doesn’t change anything.”

Didn’t change anything? Um, yeah. It changed everything. Panic pushed its way up Callia’s chest. Panic and a sense that everything was about to crash down around her.

She turned for the door before anyone could stop her. She needed air. She needed a second to herself. She needed…shit…she didn’t know what she needed.

“Callia!”

She wasn’t sure how she made it out of the chamber, but she was sprinting when she hit the corridor. She paused to get her bearings, spotted a sign halfway down the hall and was inside the plush female sitting room before she even realized her feet had moved.

One whole wall was filled with floor-to-ceiling mirrors. She stared at her reflection, then whipped around and lifted her hair, tried to peer over her shoulder at the marking on her neck. The small but unmistakable winged omega.

The door to the bathroom pushed open. In the reflection Callia caught Casey’s gaze fixed on her neck. She dropped her hair and turned.

“Are you okay?”

Was she okay? Yeah. Not likely. “You tell me. I just found out a demigod with a bad case of revenge kidnapped my son because he’s the heir to the throne of Argolea. Would you be okay?”

Casey’s expression softened. Dark hair fell over her shoulders, but her violet eyes were very clear and very familiar. “I know what you’re going through.”

Callia huffed. “Yeah, you know? I don’t think so.” It wasn’t that she didn’t like the half-breed, it was that right now she had a thousand other things to deal with besides getting chummy with her long-lost half-sister.

The bathroom door pushed open again and this time Isadora came inside. Only she didn’t look half as concerned as Casey.

“Lovely,” Callia said as she took in Isadora’s tense face. “We might as well just have a party.” Her headache kicked up and she rubbed at the spot between her eyes.

Casey looked toward the princess. “She’s got the mark. On her neck.”

“Let me see.” Isadora stepped closer.

“Sure, why not?” Callia mumbled as Casey lifted her hair like she was nothing more than a lab rat. “This day can’t get any weirder.”

The two inspected her neck; then Isadora eased back and Casey let Callia’s hair down again. A deep furrow marred the princess’s pale face, and oh, yeah, it was obvious Isadora was not happy about this little bit of news. But what daughter would be? She’d just found out her father
had yet another illegitimate child. Gods, the king had taken Zeus’s “go forth and multiply” decree to the extreme.

Isadora finally sighed. Glanced between the two. “The least one of you could have done was be male. Then I wouldn’t still be forced to marry Zander.”

Zander.
Skata.
Callia clenched her jaw. How had she forgotten all about the fact Zander was set to bind himself to someone else? At what point had
that
turned into the least of her worries?

“What does the marking mean?” Casey asked Isadora. “I thought you and I were the chosen pieces of the prophecy. But Callia has the mark too.”

Isadora pursed her lips, and from the tense expression on her face, it was clear she knew something and didn’t want to elaborate.

“Isa?” Casey asked.

“I’m not sure,” Isadora finally said. “I’ve been doing some…research, but I haven’t come up with anything concrete yet.” She focused on Callia. “Have you always had it?”

Callia really didn’t have time for this—or care much at this point—but she sensed these two weren’t going to let her leave until they got some answers, so she cooperated because truthfully, she wasn’t quite calm enough to face her father—Simon…
Holy shit
—again.

“I didn’t even know it was there until today.”

Casey’s gaze jumped to Isadora.

They both stared at Callia, and Callia’s stomach did a slow roll. “So that means…?”

“I don’t think any of us know,” Casey said. “But it means something.”

Callia’s gaze strayed to Isadora, whose jaw was clenched so tight the sharp slash of bone beneath the princess’s pale skin was visible. Isadora knew something. Something she wasn’t telling her or Casey.

Yeah, well, screw that. Callia didn’t really give a flying rip right now.

“Have you…?” Casey asked, not seeing the look on Isadora’s face. “Has your head been bugging you lately? Like when we’re all in the same room. Earlier, when you stepped into the chamber, I felt—”

“A buzzing,” Callia finished. “Yeah, I felt it.”

“Me too,” Isadora said. “I felt it that day in my father’s room as well. When the Argonauts were there and…”
Zander volunteered to marry me.

Isadora’s unspoken words hung like a weight between them, reminding Callia once more what else was wrong with this whole fucked-up situation.

Okay, screw this chitchat. Callia moved toward the door. “I need to talk to Zander.”

“He left,” Isadora said.

Callia turned slowly, one hand on the bathroom door. “What do you mean, he left?”

“Left, as in walked out the door. Right after you did.” Isadora studied her nails. “I heard Theron mention something about the colony. Nick has information about recent daemon activity in the area. My guess is they’re going to try to locate Atalanta’s base.”

No way.

A renewed sense of brutal betrayal welled in Callia’s chest. He’d left. Hadn’t said a word to her. Hadn’t kept another of his promises.
I won’t cut you out…