The Dark Queen (The Dark Queens Book 5) (18 page)

“But why?”

Calypso frowned, having a difficult time piecing together why Aphrodite had done that. Fable and Owiot were a true love match, and would have gotten there far sooner than later—as seemed to be the case with a few others in the games, i.e., the Pied Piper and Baba, both stubborn mule-headed women if you asked her.

Themis plopped down beside Calypso and crossed her legs. “No doubt because she knows the prophecy, same as I.”

“Prophecy?” For an ancient, Calypso was feeling wholly stupid at the moment. “What prophecy? Why do I not know of this prophecy?”

Aphrodite cringed and hunched her shoulders, and then speaking rapidly said, “Thems and I didn’t want to bother you with trivialities, we knew how stressful these games would be on you and didn’t wish to worry you.”

Calypso glowered. “The Fates spoke with you two?” she snapped, growing increasingly vexed by her besties. The waters around them began to churn.

Blindy gave a snuffling sort of laugh, “Oh, tone it down, crazy. More like I consulted them, you know it is sort of part of my gig. Justice and all.” She popped her t-shirt and gave Calypso a soft eye roll, as if to say—you annoy me, but I love you dearly.

One of these days, Calypso was sure she was definitely going to drown their asses. She thinned her lips. “And, what did they say?” she finally snapped after they both sat staring at her like dumb baboons.

“Two will die.”

Caly’s jaw dropped. “What? Two? But, but...not by our hands. You, yourself told us we couldn’t kill any of them, Thems.”

Themis shook her head. “You’re right. It won’t be by any of our hands. But there will be two deaths in these games.”

“Can’t we fix this?” Caly asked she’d never wanted any of the contestants to perish. Not even the damnable Blue, who she hated with the fires of ten thousand suns.

She’d merely wanted the Blue to taste the pain of regret and sorrow, but not the permanent stroke of death.

Both women shook their heads, but Dite was the one to answer.

“We asked, we even considered stopping the games, but the deaths have been prophesied now, there can be no going back.”

Themis sighed. “Our only hope of saving whoever they are is to actually let the games run its course, with us here and monitoring closely; there is the possibility that perhaps, and just maybe, we could somehow work a miracle.”

Finally, Calypso understood why Aphrodite had interceded. Looking to her friend, she said softly, “You’re trying to make sure it won’t be them, aren’t you?”

Dites shrugged, looking adorably embarrassed. “For your sakes and hers, I may have cheated just a little. I want them out as quickly as possible, Caly. Surely, you can understand why now?”

While it didn’t exactly break the rules of the game, it was definitely a gray and questionable area. But this was her granddaughter, and Calypso would break any rules in heaven or in Tartarus to ensure Fable’s safety.

Sighing deeply she nodded. “How much longer until they leave then, Dite?”

Spreading her arms wide, she shrugged. “At a guess, I’d say a few hours to a day or two tops.”

If Calypso could stop these games, she would. But there were limits to even what a god could do. They’d enacted the games, and now for better or worse, they had to let the blasted thing run its course.

Crossing her fingers, she looked back at the sea orb and whispered with all her heart, “Fall in love, little darkness, and do it quickly. Grandmother’s heart can’t take this...”

~*~

Owiot

T
he Great Spirit had revealed the truth to him.

Just as he’d asked.

Owiot had known that the immediate pull and draw to Fable couldn’t simply be chance. Nothing happened in life without a cause behind it. It wasn’t just a quirk of fate that had brought them together.

Fable was his in truth.

The female crafted just for him.

The female he’d waited his whole life for.

In this strange land full of strange peoples he’d finally found her. But now she had to learn the whole truth of him, a truth she would probably not like.

The thought of losing her now was crippling, but he knew he had to be honest with her above all else.

“You look beautiful today, darkness.”

Long lashes brushed the tops of her cheeks as she smiled shyly. “Thank you.”

When she’d raced down the stairs earlier in the morning, she’d worn nothing but a translucent robe of sheer white dappled with exotic, colorful flowers on the fabric.

She looked like the rare jewel that she truly was and he’d lost his breath for a moment, overwhelmed and dazzled by her beauty.

Now she was dressed in white slip dress that fell to just past her knees and had a peekaboo opening at her shoulders, showing off the gleaming ebony flesh that beckoned him to touch. His fingers twitched helplessly at his sides. The collar of the dress was modest, but also very appealing. It was ruffled and showed just a hint of the tops of her luscious breasts. He wet his lips. Her hair had been twisted up, which should have made her look severe, but she’d placed a wreath of sheer white flowers upon her crown, which had softened her features tremendously. On her feet, she wore dainty slippers that showed off her colored toenails prettily.

Fable was like a breath of fresh air and so different from the woman he’d first met, she looked young and oddly vulnerable, and he found he liked this side of her tremendously.

Last night when he’d opened his
sight
to her, she’d not been the only one to see a vision. He’d seen one too.

Of her.

Of the life she’d led. The trauma she’d faced. How she’d clawed her way out of it, turning herself from the trusting and caring person she intrinsically was, into a woman chiseled by iron and forged in steel.

It had made Owiot sick to know the pain she’d felt, the violence that had been done to her. To see her at the end of her rope and so desperate to never be hurt again that she’d turned toward black magick to make her feel safe and strong again.

He now understood why Hades had talked to him as he had.

Taking her swinging hands in his, he squeezed them gently, and then in a moment of need brought them to his lips and tenderly planted a kiss on the palm of each lovely hand.

Her mouth slightly parted and her eyes rounded into tiny saucers of surprise. But his heart was too full and too happy to continue to pretend with her. Hanging tight to her one hand, he crooked his arm for her and slipped her hand through it. His smile grew wider as he felt the tremors course through her.

It was satisfying to know she was as affected by him as he was by her.

He’d not slept much, if anything, last night. His thoughts had been solely consumed by this gorgeous, broken woman.

When he’d returned to his mortal form, he’d asked Sister Mountain Lion and Sister Crow for advice.

As females themselves, they’d given him unique insights into the mind of his paired female. He’d spent the better part of the morning crafting his gift for her.

So far as Owiot understood it, within this sheltered realm built just for him and Fable he retained all of his power. Only once they were in the games would he be crippled and deprived of it.

Taking advantage of that fact, it had been simple enough to reshape and reform this oasis into the one Fable had always imagined she would one day be in.

He’d plucked the images straight from her memories last night and while he’d been excited building it for her, now that he led her toward his surprise he had to admit to a fissure of doubt eating away at his insides.

What if she didn’t understand his gesture, or worse, did and simply hated it? He chewed on the inside of his cheek as his stomach twisted with nerves and feelings of idiocy.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked, and his flesh shivered at the husky, morning quality of her already dulcet voice.

Glancing at her, he noted the confused twist of her lips and brows. Such full, kissable lips. Lips he’d just barely touched the day before, but that he now wished he had the right to lean down and claim with authority.

But he couldn’t. Not until he told her everything.

Giving her a secretive smile, he led her toward the front of the castle. “It’s a surprise.”

“Surprise?” She thinned her feline eyes at him. “What kind of surprise? You know not all surprises are the good kinds.”

He chuckled. “My jaded, little darkness. What you must think of me. I am not a wolf.”

She chuckled. The sound was deep and throaty, and again only reinforcing her feline nature to him. “Are you sure about that? Because I’m fairly certain that you a—”

That
are
quickly switched to an
ahh
when they stepped through the archway and out into the open. Because no longer were they simply a castle in an abandoned forest. The forest had been temporarily transformed into a bustling, fairy tale cosmopolitan of sorts.

There were stores and stalls everywhere. People dressed in exotic garb, some of them pale skinned, but others as dark skinned as his own female meandering about as they smiled, chatted, and shopped.

The buildings themselves were an architectural wonder of stone and wood masonry. Polished facades that climbed into the heavens seven, eight, and sometimes even twenty stories high. But all of it built in a haphazard manner that made it reasonable to believe one strong gust would knock them over.

Women looking like exotic flowers in spools of wildly colored fabric dotted the landscape, while men in slightly tamer versions of the clothing accompanied them.

Chimney stacks set atop each building belched out differing colors of smoke. Some red as molten lava, others blue as the cool waters of Seren itself. In short, this place was a fairy tale wonderland of magic and wonder.

“How did...you?” She turned to him. Unable to even finish the final words, because her eyes gleamed and her jaw trembled.

He cleared his throat, hoping that was an excited reaction and that she wasn’t upset.

“These are all my memories?” Unspoken was the word
how
.

Her long fingernails dug in tight to his chest, but he didn’t flinch at the feel of them carving crescent moon shapes into his flesh. Instead, he lifted his hand and lightly brushed a loose curl back behind her ear.

She shuddered, and her eyes were like twin magnets holding his own gaze fast. Gods, she was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen in his life.

None of the parading females around them could hold a candle to his female.

“Last night,” he said deeply, “I saw your memories.”

Her breathing hitched, but he didn’t want her to be nervous or scared of him. So he shook his head and rushed on.

“I just wanted to give you a day, Fable, a day where you could live in truth the reality of your dreams. A day where—”

An inarticulate little cry was the only warning he got before she tossed her arms around his neck and tugged him down with a powerful little yank. His brows lifted high on his forehead in shock, but then he surrendered to her unpracticed charms when her gorgeous, full red lips stole a kiss from him.

And this one was far from chaste. Nothing at all like what he’d given her last night.

Her hot, little tongue traced the seam of his lips, demanding he part to her, which he did. Gladly. And a powerful grunt spilled from his throat when he finally tasted of her.

She was sweet.

Like raspberries dipped in sugar—tart and addictive all at the same time. Her kiss didn’t last long, but when she finally pulled back, he was shocked to note that he couldn’t seem to take a steady breath.

She bit her bottom lip, and he moaned, wanting badly to return the favor.

Thankfully, she was distracted already. Like an excited, young girl she slipped her fingers through his and tugged him forward.

“Oh my goddess, this is amazing,” she squealed.

Seriously squealed. Her features were giddy and youthful. Not at all like the woman he’d left back in her room the day before who’d looked weighted down by the cares of the world.

Fable had been choking on the darkness. And though he’d not taken nearly half of it from her, she seemed like a different woman already.

“Look at this place!” She picked up the pace. Looking in awe through one window storefront after another.

There was a hat maker’s shop. The glass in front was stenciled with thick white letters boldly declaring “Clara’s Milliner, the best hatmaker in all of Kingdom!” And the samples on display seemed to agree.

They were a delight to the eyes—hats in every shape and size and fashion was inside, some were in the shape of fantastical creatures or inventions. Like dragons, ships, and even a typewriter. But there were other more feminine ones, pretty delicate things covered in flowers and spools of gossamer fabric.

It was those—but especially one in particular—that had Fable pressing her nose up to the window with a delighted, feminine gasp. It was a deep purple satin color, with a pearl white netting that covered the face up to the nose. Glued onto the hat itself were crystal clear flowers that almost looked carved of gems the way the twinkled in the light. Her tawny eyes were rounded and entranced, and Owiot grinned. Wanting to give her anything and everything her heart desired right now, even if it was the moon.

“You should take it,” he said softly.

She shook her head, and he could practically read the denial sitting heavy on her tongue.

Standing to the side, so that she could look at him, he nodded. “Fable, this day won’t last. It’s not built to last. This is mostly illusion. Very good illusion. But illusion nonetheless. I created this day for one purpose. So that you might enjoy it. So that you can build a new memory of what your first day should have been like.”

Her nostrils flared, and a lone tear slipped from the corner of her eye. But she made no move to brush it away. Instead, she shook her head. “Oh, Owiot. No one has ever done anything like this for me. You have no idea how much this means—”

Twisting his lips, he nodded. “I think I do, beautiful one. Do not thank me. All I ask is that you and I enjoy this day. Tomorrow we fight, today we—”