Read Hunted: An Eternal Guardians Novella Page 3


  In the long, lonely years of his life, for brief flickering moments, she’d been a light to his darkness. A breath of fresh air. An oasis in the middle of a desert whose grains of sand were nothing but years of servitude to the gods. And he wanted that nymph back. He wanted to see her smile. He wanted to hear her laugh. He wanted her wild and willing and begging and his. The way she’d been his before she’d been wrenched from his grasp and he’d been reassigned to another recruit.

  The force of that want was strong. So strong he turned away from her, swiped a hand down his face to cool himself down, then reached for her arm again—but only when he knew he wouldn’t give in and try to force her to want him back.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her away from the wall, this time tugging gently. “We’re almost there.”

  Confusion pulled her brows together. He saw it from the corner of his eye.

  And he knew she was wondering why he’d stopped his advances and what he had planned next.

  He frowned because...he was suddenly wondering that too. His so-called plans had just changed. Oh, he still wanted her, still intended to have her, but the ways in which he would get there were now swirling in his mind. Along with just what he needed to do to remind her just how much she’d wanted him long ago.

  How much the woman he’d awakened inside her years ago still wanted him now.

  * * * *

  Sera was unnerved. Unnerved and confused and more aroused than she wanted to admit.

  That moment in the caves, when Erebus had pressed all his succulent heat against her and whispered those dark and naughty things in her ear, echoed in her mind, replaying like a silent video set on repeat. He was a highly sexual beast. She’d seen that on Olympus. She’d felt it moments ago in the caves. And she knew exactly why he’d dragged her into these ruins and what he intended to do to her.

  She knew and she hated him for it.

  She knew, and she trembled with anticipation over when it would happen.

  The half-breed colony had once occupied an abandoned castle on an island in the middle of a glacial lake. As Erebus drew her into the structure and up several flights of stairs, she’d realized that the tunnel he’d pulled her into had led to the island. Walls were blackened and burned. The ceiling was open and missing in places from some kind of fire, but the rock of the castle remained, as did several floors that had been built out of stone. Now, after twenty-odd years left abandoned, plants and vines had crept into the space, making the ruins their home.

  Erebus ignored the main floor with the broken wide windows that looked out over the early morning light rising above the lake and dragged her to an upper room. To what she recognized had once been a bedroom suite but was now scattered with broken furniture, dirt, and dried leaves.

  She swallowed hard when she spotted the enormous bed, the old, worn mattress covered in a layer of dirt and slashed in the middle, stuffing falling out to mix with the debris on the floor. Though she tried not to be turned on by the presence of that bed, heat built in her veins and her treacherous body tingled to life.

  Her whole body tensed as he tugged her toward the bed, but instead of tossing her onto that dingy mattress and having his way with her as she expected, he backed her up against one of the four posts. “Put your arms down at your sides.”

  Her heart beat faster. Some instinct deep inside warned her not to obey, but she did as he said, not wanting to do anything to set him off. He was twice her size, the epitome of darkness as she’d seen when he’d attacked her in the forest, and she was a nymph who hadn’t completed her Siren training and who was currently without weapons. But that wasn’t the only reason she’d acquiesced, she knew. The other reason was because her lascivious body liked his touch. Her traitorous mind craved his commands. And that submissive part of her lineage—the part straight from her nymph heritage—yearned to please him as she had eighteen months ago on Olympus when he’d been her seduction trainer and she’d done every dirty, erotic thing he’d demanded.

  Anger welled inside her as she watched him pull a length of thin rope—rope that didn’t look like it was strong enough to hold a cat, let alone a person—from somewhere in his pocket. Anger and disgust with her own body. He hadn’t once looked at her since they’d left the darkness of the tunnels. Wasn’t looking at her now as he wrapped the rope around her torso and the bedpost several times. Didn’t even glance at her face when he tied it off at her back and finally stepped away.

  He’d ignited a slow-burning fire inside her with his words in the tunnel, and now he was letting that fire smolder. Tormenting her in a new and torturous way.

  He moved to the far side of the bed, and she heard the sounds of fabric rustling, then the bedpost shook at her back. Excitement surged inside her. An excitement she didn’t like. Knowing he was distracted, she shifted her shoulders and tried to move, but the rope held her tight, and she realized belatedly that the rope had to be charmed by some kind of otherworldly force.

  Of course it was. He was a freakin’ god, after all. Had she honestly thought escaping would be easy?

  He stepped around her with a pile of filthy sheets and moved toward the door without another word.

  Confusion drew her brows together. “Hey,” she called as he reached the threshold. “Where are you going?”

  He didn’t answer. Just turned the corner and disappeared.

  Panic pushed in. She didn’t like being confined. Strapped down and ravished was one thing. Bound and deserted was something altogether different. “You can’t leave me like this!”

  The only response that met her ears was the sound of his boot steps fading down the stone corridor.

  Alone, she heaved out a sigh. He’d be back. He hadn’t dragged her all the way to these ruins to abandon her. While she knew she should be thankful he wasn’t tormenting her with his hands and lips and sinful body as he’d done in the caves, part of her couldn’t help be disappointed. Yes, she hated him for so easily ditching her on Olympus all those months ago, but she couldn’t deny that sex with him had been earth shattering. Just the memory of how he could seduce without even touching made her whole body tremble. And the things he could do with that mouth...

  Her skin grew hot. She cleared her throat to fight her body’s natural response to him. Instead of thinking about hot, sweaty, satisfying sex, she needed to stay focused on why she was here. Why she’d been out in that forest in the first place. Not for herself, but to set right a wrong that been done a hundred years ago and to prevent what had happened to her world from happening to someone else’s.

  She glanced over the suite, searching for any kind of escape route. This room had avoided the fire that had charred other parts of the castle. A dark fireplace fronted a ratty couch, what used to be a side chair, and an old coffee table. The door on the far wall looked as if it might open to a bathroom, but she couldn’t see inside to be sure. Peering over her shoulder, she caught the movement of gauzy white curtains, frayed and hanging in front of what looked to still be solid windows. Beyond, the rising light of morning told her the view was from several stories up, and unless she planned to jump to her death, her only way out was the main door Erebus had left through.

  She frowned and looked back to the fireplace. At least she wasn’t going to freeze to death when the chill of night swept back over the castle. But even that was a small comfort as minutes turned to an hour and still there was no sign of her captor.

  Where had he gone? What was he doing? He’d said he had something big, hard, and very wicked planned for her. She’d felt that big, hard, wicked bulge in the caves and knew he’d been close to giving it to her there. But now, when she was bound, and—thanks to her licentious body—aching for the same damn thing, he was nowhere to be found.

  She struggled against her bonds, but soon decided all she was doing was exhausting herself. As daylight warmed the room, the last few hours—the last few days caught up with her, and her muscles grew limp.

  It had all started when she’d heard
rumors in her training class of the Sirens’ recent discovery of a medallion with special properties. Something about the location of the discovery had seemed oddly familiar, and she’d gone to the Hall of Sirens during her free time to research. Little had she known that research would trigger her memories—memories that had been blocked by the Sirens when she’d been handpicked by Zeus to train with his elite female warriors. And that those memories would reveal a deception so great, she was sure only the gods could conceive of something so heinous.

  In retrospect, she probably shouldn’t have confronted Athena, the leader of the Sirens. That had been a bad idea and had led to Sera being tossed in the Pit—a black hole in the ground on Olympus where Sirens were often punished—for a week. At least she hadn’t told Athena she’d regained her memories. Doing so would have resulted in her immediate death. But it had made her realize that everything she’d been told from the moment she’d arrived on Olympus was a lie. When she’d emerged from that black hole of despair, she’d pretended to step back in line, but behind the scenes she’d plotted her revenge.

  Of course, that revenge had landed her here—in this cold castle in the middle of nowhere, wondering where the hell Erebus had gone and when the heck he was coming back.

  She heaved out another sigh and glanced up and around the room. No wonder she was tired. She’d barely slept in the last two weeks, and her adrenaline was rapidly crashing. As much as she didn’t want to encourage Erebus and his nefarious plans, she wished he’d tied her to the mattress before he’d left so she could sleep. Wished he’d had the sense to tie her lower to the post so at least she was sitting and could rest her weary legs.

  Her eyes grew heavy, and her head drooped. Thoughts of Erebus and the sensual way he’d held her against the cave wall in the dark swirled in her mind. Whatever he had planned, she knew she would endure it. Just as she knew she’d likely enjoy it. The key would be making sure she found a way to escape as soon as his body was sated and he dropped his guard. Because staying, and ultimately letting him haul her back to Olympus, was not an option.

  She hadn’t sacrificed her future to fail now. Too much depended on her success. Erebus might be the master of seduction, but she wasn’t going to let her treacherous heart fall for him again. She was going to escape.

  Or, the Fates help her, she’d die trying.

  Chapter Three

  Erebus took his time finding somewhat clean sheets and blankets. While the castle hadn’t been used in years and a good portion of it was in ruins, he’d been surprised at how much was still useable.

  The sheets, blankets, and even a few pillows he’d discovered in the back of a cupboard on an upper floor. In the bowels of the castle, he’d found a gas-powered generator and enough fuel to supply the north wing, where he’d left Sera, with lights and running water. Firewood was easy to locate—there was plenty of wood thanks to destroyed furnishings—and a quick trip down to the lake provided him with berries and fish he’d be able to cook for dinner.

  Thoughts of Sera flittered through his mind as he finally headed back up to her room several hours later. Wicked, hot, erotic thoughts he had to tamp down because he didn’t want her to see them on his face as soon as he walked in. He’d save overwhelming her like that for later. Sure, Zeus might be pissed it was taking him so long to track the little nymph down, but he didn’t care. He’d take her back to Olympus soon enough. Tonight was for him—and her too. After all, there was no telling what Zeus’s punishment would entail. It could be her last chance for fun for a good long time.

  Unless he plans to execute her. Then it’s her last chance for fun ever...

  His brow wrinkled as he moved up the stairs. The last time Zeus had executed a recruit it had been for something much more sinister than simply failing the Sirens’ tests. Over the last twenty to thirty years that Erebus could remember, recruits who failed a checkpoint were reassigned to various jobs. Of course, none of those recruits had run, he realized.

  Would Zeus consider running grounds for execution?

  His head said no—after all, she was a quick learner, bright, and highly erotic. Even though he didn’t like the idea, Erebus could easily see her being reassigned as a pleasure slave to any one of the gods. But his gut... His gut said yes, Zeus would see her going AWOL as prime reason to execute her, if for no other reason than to make an example of her to other recruits who might be considering the same thing.

  He needed to find out why she’d run. Peppering her with questions would likely dampen the seductive mood he wanted to set, but perhaps if he knew why she’d taken off he could come up with a way to help her. Or, at the very least, maybe it would give him an idea how he could put in a good word for her with the King of the Gods.

  Afternoon light shone into the room as he stepped under the doorjamb, but the first thing he spotted was Sera hanging limply from her bonds, her head forward, her golden hair covering every inch of her face. Panic pushed him across the room in two steps. He set his bundle down and grasped both sides of her face, lifting so he could see her eyes. “Sera?”

  She grunted. Her eyelids fluttered. And in a moment of clarity he realized she wasn’t dead, just asleep.

  The pressure in his chest eased. Yes, he’d been away from her most of the day, but it was unusual for a Siren—even a recruit—to drop her defenses enough to sleep when she was in a hostile situation, which he knew she considered this to be. Carefully, so he didn’t wake her, he lowered her head once more and watched as that mass of blonde covered her features all over again.

  Had the instructors on Olympus worked her so hard she wasn’t sleeping? He managed most of the Siren instructors and knew their schedules. Granted, he’d been immersed with a new class the last few months and up to his ears with newbies who didn’t have a clue, but Sera’s class—almost two years into their training—should have been well adjusted to the physical demands of the Sirens by now.

  Something didn’t add up. With questions swirling in his mind, he went to work remaking the bed. He’d flipped the mattress before he’d left, and the underside wasn’t nearly as disgusting as the top had been. When he was done, he threw the covers back, carefully untied Sera from the bedpost, and hefted her into his arms.

  She weighed practically nothing, and that erotic scent of citrus and vanilla floated around him once more, as enticing as anything had ever been. Her head lolled against his shoulder as he moved and laid her on the fresh sheets. This time her eyes didn’t even flitter. The second her body hit the mattress, her head lolled against the pillow and a soft snore echoed from her lips.

  It took every ounce of strength he had to tug off her boots and nothing else. To pull the covers up around her shoulders and not climb into that big bed with her. But he was determined to make this good for both of them, and there were things he needed to do first for that to happen. For a moment he considered tying her wrists to the headboard, but then dismissed the idea. She was dead to the world right now, and from here on out he didn’t plan to leave her alone. Which meant there was no reason to bind her—unless of course she asked to be bound.

  That thought shot a burst of wicked heat all through his body, which lingered as he used the broken wood in the room to build a fire, then found a broom in a nearby closet and went about sweeping the floor of dust and debris. In an upstairs kitchen area, he’d found candles, a frying pan, plastic plates, utensils, wine glasses, and even an old bottle of wine. He had no idea if the wine was still any good, but he figured anything to help set the mood—and relax her enough to get her talking—was a plus.

  The sheets rustled on the bed behind him just as he was finishing cooking the fish. One glance over his shoulder at her confused expression told him she was shocked at what he’d done.

  He smirked. “Good morning, sleepy head.” He pulled the frying pan from the heat and slid the two trout he’d caught onto the plates. “Or should I say good evening.” Pushing to his feet, he grabbed two forks and the plates and crossed toward the bed, where she e
yed him like he’d grown a horn right in the middle of his forehead. “Here.”

  “What is that?”

  “Dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s rude to eat in front of someone.” He pushed the plate closer to her hand. “Take it.”

  She glanced from the plate up to him, and he didn’t miss the skepticism in her blue eyes.

  He frowned. “It’s not poisoned. If I wanted to kill you I’d have done so already.”

  The expression on her flawless face said she wasn’t so sure of that, but she hesitantly took the plate and lowered it to her lap, carefully watching him as he walked back to the club chair he’d hauled in from another room and sat.

  Her gaze skipped around the room while he started eating, and from the corner of his eye he caught the surprise in her features at what he’d done while she’d been asleep. She glanced at the bedpost where she’d been tied, then chanced a look over her shoulder at the wood headboard. “Why am I no longer restrained?”

  Heat rolled through him all over again. He cut another piece of fish and stabbed it with his fork. “Do you want to be restrained? If so, I can easily play along.”

  Her gaze narrowed to a glare. Several moments passed where all she did was glower at him while he ate. Then slowly, she set her untouched plate on the far side of the bed, then threw back the covers.

  He leaned back in his seat, eyeing her warily as she pushed to her feet. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “I need to use the restroom.”

  His stomach tightened at the bite in her words.

  She rounded the bed and scowled deeper when she spotted him standing with the plate in his hand. “Unless you want my bladder to explode, of course. In which case I could just sit here and we could wait for it to happen. Then you could clean up the mess. Which will it be?”