Wicked Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 3) (8 page)

“Shot you?” Hector frowned at him, stamping one hoof. “Father, we cannot allow their actions to—”

“Enough, Hector.” Cheiron held up a hand against his brother’s concerns and studied Agrius. “Why did you cross the border without my permission?”

“I, ah…” He scratched his jaw and cleared his throat. “I retrieved sacred waters for Oreius.”

“What waters?” Oreius marched into the chamber, scowling in his usual brooding manner. The silver dapple had rarely cracked a smile since the death of his mate, Sarra.

Agrius withdrew the vessel from his vest pocket. “A nymph told me these waters will cure your grief.” He bowed his head, extending his arms and offering the flask balanced upon both palms.

“I have no need for a cure,” Oreius sneered. “My mate is
dead
. How dare you to even—” He whipped his head, cutting off his objections.

“Oreius, my son, your brother is concerned for you,” Cheiron murmured gently. “As are we all. Accept the gift he risked so much to retrieve and consider the offer.”

Muttering under his breath, he plucked the flask from Agrius’s grasp. “Very well, but I shan’t have use for it.”

As much thanks as he’d anticipated. Agrius nodded at his brother, then faced his father. “I did not cross the border alone. Along my journey, I encountered a maiden. A Lapith noblewoman, the daughter of Lord Macareus. She mistook me for a stag and shot me, but then healed me. Her family arranged a betrothal she did not wish for, so I…” He rubbed the back of his neck, wincing. His father might very well command him to restore Eione to her family. “I aided her escape.”

“Agrius.” Cheiron tsked. “Where is the lass?”

“At my castle.” He expelled a deep exhalation. “Father, she refuses to return to her lands, and I would…”

“Yes?” Hector stomped a hoof impatiently.

Agrius dropped his hand. “I would wed her. She’s my mate.”

“Mate?” Oreius scoffed.

“Yes.” He cast his brother an apologetic glance. “We have not bonded yet, for I wish to have your blessing first, Father.”

“These are dangerous actions, indeed, Agrius.” Cheiron scratched his jaw. “There is no denying the sacred bonding. We must honor your horse’s choice of mate; therefore, I extend to you my blessing.”

“You do?” That had been far easier than he’d expected.

Cheiron released a long sigh. “I would have demanded you seek her family’s acquiescence first, but your reports have confirmed my own. The Lapiths guard their borders in opposition to our treaties. I fear, while your stealing a bride might once have been viewed as an act of war, that time may have already passed. Rumors spread of King Pirithous’s illness, and his son, Philaeus, does not follow in his stead. Your actions are but one more stone atop the grave of our peace.”

Cheiron placed a hand on Agrius’s shoulder. “Go, my son, and claim your bride. Pray this ominous storm of war may pass over us.”

Eione spent the entire day exploring South Glen. From the castle windows, lush forests and rolling hillsides stretched to the horizon. The castle itself had been fashioned of sturdy grey stones, the corridors draped in rich tapestries similar to those in her family’s home. Yet these cloths illustrated centaur legends, depicting great heroes and tales of enlightenment. None resembled the barbaric scenes displayed in her family’s manor.

Agrius’s library contained hundreds of manuscripts and scrolls, each exhibited with pride as though treasured. His staff was courteous and polite, and seemed content, especially to have their master returned. Quite the opposite of her household’s servants, who scurried through the halls, fearfully avoiding their masters.

This is how home should be.
She smiled to herself as she strolled through the maze in the gardens. Earlier, she’d penned a lengthy letter to her father, only to have tossed the parchment into the blazing hearth.

There was no forgiveness to be had for choosing this life. Her heart ached for her brothers Antion and Dryas, who would grow as cruel as the twins without her presence. Perhaps Agrius might aid her in finding a solution.

Her musings veered to him, to those gentle pewter eyes and the wicked curve of his smile.

She had no doubt the Fates wove their paths together. These past two weeks, she’d witnessed everything in him a woman could desire in her husband.

My mate.

She bit her lip, grinning like a madwoman. Nothing could halt this budding blossom of love between them.

Tonight, she’d ensure her dashing centaur fathomed precisely how devoted a wife she would be to him.

“Stay within our view, milady,” one of the guards called to her as she passed through the garden gates onto the estate below. “Lord Agrius left orders you were not to wander outside the grounds alone until he returned.”

She inclined her head toward them. “Very well. I’ll stay within view.” True, she longed to ride through the forests, hunting and gathering, exploring this new world, yet Agrius’s caution was warranted. A new territory meant new boundaries to learn and even new vegetation. She’d benefit from the aid of a guide.

Eione paced along the stone path toward the edge of the woods. The dusky glimmer of sunset pitched long shadows throughout the trees. She halted and inhaled, the earthy, rich scents of black pines and chestnut trees filling her nostrils. The forest stretched beyond her view, peaceful and quiet, an oasis.

Yet she no longer suffered the urge to flee. To seek solace.

This was her home. Her true home.

She climbed the slight slope, the forest floor of crushed needles, packed earth, and moss cushioning her footsteps. Twisting around, she waved at the sentinels, ensuring she remained within their view.

They bowed their heads, keeping their focus on her.

No one had ever guarded her for the purpose of her safety before. It was an unfamiliar, yet enjoyable feeling, to know these men would protect her.

That Agrius would protect her.

Twigs snapped in the distance, followed by the thwack of rocks clinking together. Had an animal lost its footing on the side of a slope?

Odd.
She treaded forward, a few steps beyond the view of the guards, to inspect the origin of the sounds.

Perhaps a hunter? Although, wouldn’t the guards have warned her?

The hairs on her arms raised. Something wasn’t right. Animals didn’t make such clumsy noises.

Humans did.

Eione whirled around and gasped at the hazy form of a male. She grasped for her bow, but the male aimed the point of his dagger at her. “Don’t.”

Cold sweat beaded along her spine. She knew that voice.

“Myron?”
My brother.
One of the twins.

He stalked forward, the shadows playing across his face and casting a sinister aura around him.

This was not the time to succumb to fear. She straightened her shoulders. “You’ve encroached upon centaur lands. All I need do is scream and a dozen guards will surround us.”

“Mayhap, but you won’t,” Myron sneered. “You’re too soft, Eione. You’ll return to your home and do as you’re told.” He waved the dagger. “You will not disgrace us. You’ll wed the Prince’s comrade and honor your family. We’ll overlook this incident. Attribute it to the beast poisoning your mind. A weak, easily manipulated female stolen from her family’s protection.”

Bile rose in her throat. Being related to this barbaric male disgusted her. She’d never go back with him.

Stall him. Keep him talking.
Time enough to form a plan. The guards would seek her out any moment. “How did you find me?”

“I followed Abiron.” He smirked. “I found it odd that our best tracker chose not to pursue the most obvious trail, and I was right. The traitor will be hanged.”

No.
She clasped her hand around her neck, but swallowed her protest. If she convinced her brother she’d return with him, he would ease his offensive stance, and she could strike.

“Very well, I will—”

“Eione!” a male shouted from the direction of the castle.
Agrius.

They both whirled toward the thudding of hooves. Myron switched his target from her and aimed his dagger at the entrance to the woods.

She lifted a brow and suppressed a laugh at how foolishly he’d left himself undefended. He’d soon learn—she was the huntress. He, the hunted.

Deftly, Eione shifted her bow, nocked an arrow, and aimed it at Myron. “Not so fast,” she snapped.

Myron twisted to her, his eyes widening, then narrowing into hard slits. “Shall we determine who possesses the faster arm?”

Agrius crashed through the forest, skidding to a halt. “Eione,” he breathed. Her name on his lips resounded in her ears, and she knew.

Many things about Agrius might be unfamiliar to her, but his soul was not.

He was her destiny.

Mine.

To her left, she glimpsed him, her magnificent, wicked centaur, but dared not peel her aim off her brother. “Actually, Agrius is the fastest.
Morphos.
”

Hands flaring silver, she loosed the arrow at her brother just as the dagger struck the tree behind Agrius, embedding into the bark. In human form, he crouched beneath the blade.

Her aim was better. Her arrow snagged in Myron’s shoulder, thrusting him to the ground.

Agrius rushed to his side, transforming into a centaur and planting a hoof on Myron’s chest while Eione closed the distance.

Her mate’s concerned stare skimmed over her, but she inclined her head. “I am well.” Myron screeched and spat at her as she tore a strip off his shirt, wrapping it around the arrow to secure his wound. “And he will live.”

“I’m not so certain about that.” A tic pulsed in Agrius’s jaw. “He attempted to kill the son of Cheiron. My father would—”

“No.” Eione shook her head. “He will be escorted to the border and his life will be traded for Abiron’s.”

“Abiron?”

She clenched her fists. “They know he helped us and they’ll hang him unless we deliver something they prize more than their bloodlust.”

“Aye, you are right.” Agrius bent, placing greater pressure on Myron’s chest, and grated to the wheezing male, “Should you ever step foot on my lands again, I’ll slice one piece off your body each day for a year and feed you to my dogs.” Fury blazed in Myron’s glower, but Agrius seemed to ignore it, hauling her brother to his feet and escorting him to the guards.

Eione followed, frowning as the guards dragged Myron away.

Agrius strode to her and swept her into his embrace, crushing her against his chest. “My beautiful, brave Eione.”

Unclenching her fists, she released a shuddering breath. She was glad Myron had accosted her in the woods. Now, she knew no other threats chased them. They’d trade his life for Abiron’s and all would be well.

“Eione.” Agrius’s rich timbre sent shivers cascading beneath her skin. He swung her in his brawny arms, spinning her in a circle before placing her on her feet and claiming her mouth.

Moaning contentedly, she drew back, smiling at him. “How was your meeting?”

“Excellent.” He flashed her a devious grin. “We have my Father’s blessing and Oreius has the flask.”

His father’s blessing. “Wonderful.” Joy tingled down to her toes, but halted at Agrius’s second revelation. “Will he use it?”

He shrugged. “I know not, but the burden is relieved from my shoulders. We have done all we can for my brother.”

“You’re a good man.” She brushed her fingers along his cheek.

He entwined his fingers with hers. “My family has accepted you, and I crave nothing more than to claim you as my mate, but I must ask, and you must answer me truthfully, with no doubts in your heart.” Squeezing her hand, he perused her eyes, those depths so earnest and sincere. “Eione, will you bond with me and become my wife and mate?”

Joy enclosed her heart and she rose on the tips of her toes to whisper against his mouth, “Yes, Agrius. I am yours.”

***

Agrius couldn’t hold back the growl rumbling in his chest at Eione’s declaration. Three hundred years he’d lived with the certainty he’d never take a mate.

In truth, he’d been waiting for her.

For Eione.

The castle grounds were hardly the place to claim his mate. Though his staff would undoubtedly enjoy the entertainment.

At last, he allowed his horse to follow his instincts, and he scooped Eione into his arms, carrying her to his chamber.

Dusk had fallen, the pink and orange glow from the setting sun casting beaming rays across the room. He set her in the middle, curled his finger beneath her chin, and tilted her face to his.

Trust and affection reflected in her eyes and his chest inflated. This beauty had chosen him.

Mine.

He withdrew a blade from his belt and lifted it between them. Her eyes flashed with uncertainty. “Easy lass, the blade is for me.”

The wary spark switched to confusion, so he explained, “During the bonding ceremony, you will slice across my arm, along the bonding mark, and place your claim on me.”

She nodded. “I can do that.”

“After, we shall be mated. I will cherish you for the rest of my days, until both of my hearts stop beating.”

“Well, I’d best not loose any arrows into them again, then.” She flashed him a devastating smile.