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Entwined, Page 3

Elisabeth Naughton


  Which was…bone-brain idiotic. Because he couldn’t care less about what happened to her.

  “Callia?”

  Theron’s voice finally registered, and her gaze jerked back to the leader of the Argonauts, studying her with curious eyes. In a rush she realized several other guardians were also looking at her funny, and even Isadora was wringing her hands, watching her with a perplexed look.

  “Y-yes?”

  “The king?” Theron asked with raised eyebrows.

  “Oh. Right. Yeah.” She shook off the flood of emotions seeing Zander always conjured, pushed them down deep, as she’d gotten good at doing over the years, and turned for the king’s chamber. “He’s ready and waiting.”

  Her anxiety lessened when they stepped into the room. But that damn buzz picked up all over again.

  Althea, who had been helping the king get situated with his mountain of pillows, went scurrying out as soon as she saw the Argonauts. Casey turned from the window as they filed inside. Wishing she had some lavender for her suddenly throbbing head, Callia took up a space in the far corner of the room, near the king in case he needed her, but well out of the way. She didn’t miss the warm smile spreading across Casey’s face when she spotted her new husband, or the way Theron’s eyes lit in response.

  “Meli.” Theron went to the king’s half-breed daughter. Kissed her cheek and temple. They exchanged quiet words as the room filled with more people than it could contain. And though he probably didn’t realize it, Theron transformed from badass-biker-dude intimidating to downright handsome as he smiled at Casey and took her into his arms.

  A hollow ache hit Callia midchest as she watched. There’d been a time, not all that long ago, when she’d felt the same consuming, electrifying emotions. Her eyes skipped back over the group to where Isadora was leaning against the far wall, also well away from the others, a far cry from the happily-ever-after her sister had found. Then to Zander, standing only inches inside the doorway, ready to bolt at the first possible opportunity.

  Yeah, she knew that feeling all too well. It was the same one she got whenever she saw him. Anger welled up in her chest as his gaze bounced anywhere but at her. He’d shaved off the little bit of facial hair he had the last time she’d seen him, but even bruised and beaten he looked more like Adonis than his ancestor Achilles. Bronze and blond, buff and beautiful. He was the oldest of the Argonauts. The only one rumored to be immortal. The one she’d once foolishly thought she’d spend her life with.

  “I’ll get right to the point,” the king said, cutting through Callia’s dark thoughts, bringing her attention back where it needed to be. His voice wavered from his illness, but didn’t break. “The situation with the Council is getting out of hand. They’ve made no overt threat, but rumblings are filtering through and it’s clear they’re preparing to strike as soon as I pass. While Theron and I have had our disagreements of late”—the king inclined his head toward where he’d last heard Theron’s voice—“we both believe that the future of the Argonauts cannot fall into the Council’s control. Lucian has made no qualms about the fact he wants the Argonauts replaced by the Executive Guard. I don’t have to tell you that doing so would be our greatest downfall.”

  He paused to take a breath, and this time Theron dropped his head and focused on Casey’s hand, which he held in his own, as if he knew what was coming but didn’t want to hear it.

  “While I am pleased that Theron chose to marry one of my daughters, now that their binding is complete, it has left the monarchy once again vulnerable to the secret plottings of the Council. I see no other choice but for the same solution as before. Theron and I are both in agreement that Isadora must marry—”

  “You knew?” Casey’s head jerked up, and she pinned her new husband with an outraged look.

  “Shh, meli.” Theron patted her hand.

  “—and that her husband must be from the Argonauts.” The king’s words didn’t seem to appease Casey. She glared from her husband to her father. But lucky for the king, he couldn’t see her reaction. Just as he couldn’t see the sudden tightening of the shoulders of every Argonaut in the room. “We have disagreed on just who that should be. But as king, the decision falls to me.”

  He pulled in a breath and seemed to grow a foot, looking very much the regal king he’d once been, commanding an impressive amount of authority from his deathbed. “Because Jason’s line is the second strongest of the Argonauts, that responsibility falls to you, Demetrius.”

  Silence filled the chamber. All eyes shifted to Demetrius, in the back of the group, leaning one shoulder against the wall, only half paying attention to what was happening around him.

  And then, when he noticed everyone looking his way, it was as if the king’s words finally hit. Shock ran over Deme-trius’s face just before he dropped his crossed arms and pushed away from the wall. He was the biggest of the guardians, at nearly six feet eight. And the shadowed eyes Callia had often thought were soulless narrowed and darkened to ebony as he homed in on the king. “No. Fucking. Way.”

  “Demetrius…” Theron warned in a low voice, letting go of Casey’s hand and rising to his full height.

  “I won’t do it,” Demetrius said, shaking his head. “And you cannot make me. No one can make me.”

  Theron crossed quickly to stand in front of the giant Argonaut, who was now shaking with a mixture of contempt and resentment that seemed to roll off him in waves. Callia swallowed and wondered if the other females were thinking the same thing she was—namely, that a brawl was about to break out if someone didn’t do something fast.

  “Demetrius, stand down.”

  “I will not bind myself to that,” Demetrius ground out, his face twisting in fury as he glared over Theron at the king and lifted a hand to point at Isadora. “And you cannot make me.”

  Theron said something Callia couldn’t hear, but she didn’t miss Demetrius’s response. No one did. Especially not Isadora, who, standing in the other corner of the room, seemed to shrink into herself even more.

  “Kick me out of the Argonauts if you want. Banish me to the human world. I don’t care. But hear me now, Theron. I will never marry that. I’ll choose death first.”

  Theron slapped a hand on the bigger Argonaut’s chest and pushed hard.

  Oh, jeez. This was not good. Not good at all.

  Voices broke out in unison: Casey’s as she rushed to console an obviously shaken Isadora; Theron’s from the doorway, where he was talking Demetrius down from inflicting bodily harm; the other Argonauts as they whispered about what had just happened.

  The king, surprisingly, was silent, until a voice from the back of the room called out, “I’ll do it.”

  A voice Callia knew all too well.

  “Who said that?” The king’s ears perked, and he leaned to the side to peer around the massive guardians toward the speaker, though it did no good.

  Conversation quieted. Heads turned toward the doorway. Even Theron and Demetrius stopped arguing long enough to glance sideways.

  And Callia’s stomach twisted into a knot as the sea of bodies parted to reveal Zander standing there, staring at the king with nothing but resignation across his bruised and handsomely familiar face.

  No, no, no. He can’t possible mean—

  “I’ll do it,” Zander said again in the quiet. “I’ll marry Isadora.”

  Chapter Three

  Okaaay. Not the reaction Zander had been hoping for.

  No one in the room said a single word. And oh, yeah. He totally should have thrown himself off that cliff. At least then he wouldn’t have to endure this soul-rattling silence or see the what-the-fuck? looks on his kinsmen’s faces.

  He shifted his feet, rested his hands on his hips and waited. As the seconds passed and no one said a word, his unease peaked. Finally, he broke the stare-down and said, “Look, don’t everyone thank me all at once.”

  Theron glanced over his shoulder at the king. “We need a minute.”

  Before Zander coul
d respond, Theron pushed him back into the hallway with a force that nearly knocked Zander off his feet. The leader of the Argonauts didn’t speak until they were well out of earshot of the king’s chamber, and then he let loose.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

  Resentment brewed as Zander’s back hit the stone wall. It wasn’t like he expected Theron to be all rosy cheeked and gracious that he’d finally manned-up. Theron had every reason to be suspicious. But a little thanks wasn’t too fucking much to ask, especially now.

  “Helping.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Zander.”

  “I don’t see anyone laughing.”

  “Why in Hades would you make light of this situation?”

  “I’m not—”

  “Skata.” Theron raked his hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I’m already so pissed at Demetrius I can barely see straight. I hate that Isadora is forced to marry anyone, but there’s no way around it. Not if we’re to keep the Council out of Argonaut affairs and Atalanta out of Argolea for good. And I don’t need you adding fuel to the fire and fucking it all up when I—”

  “I’m not adding fuel, Theron. I’m serious. I’ll marry her.”

  “Serious? You?” Disbelief raced across Theron’s chiseled features. “I doubt that. This isn’t something you can casually volunteer for just to make up for what happened earlier. Or to get you back in the king’s good graces. Marriage to Isadora isn’t until you get bored of her and decide to go back to your human women. This is permanent. The binding ceremony joins two together for—”

  “A lifetime. Yeah. I get that. But let’s be honest here. We’re only talking about her lifetime. Not mine.”

  Theron’s mouth snapped shut, and Zander took a deep breath, because okay, yeah, there was no turning back from this. Not now that it was out there. And part of him…part of him didn’t want to turn back. “Isadora’s got what, five hundred years until she passes, if that? That’s a long time, but in the grand scheme of my life? Probably nothing, and you know it.”

  “Zander, you’re not really—”

  “Immortal? Yeah, don’t go there. We both know you’d be wrong anyway.” He wasn’t about to let Theron change his mind. “Demetrius obviously doesn’t want this, and you can’t force him to marry her when he’s so adamantly against it. Not to mention, he’s volatile. He scares the crap out of her on a good day. What do you think he’ll do to her if they’re alone? Do you want her to be miserable for the rest of her life, or worse, be thinking about what he could be doing to her whenever the doors are closed?”

  “No.” Theron winced. Looked down at his boots. Seemed as sickened by the idea as Zander was. “Of course I don’t want that. Demetrius is the last guardian I’d choose for her, but the king won’t listen.”

  “None of the others want to marry her either,” Zander said quietly. “You could see it in their eyes. Let me do this. I want to. I’m the only one who doesn’t have anything to lose.”

  “Zander,” Theron said cautiously, bringing his dark eyes back level with Zander’s, “if you marry Isadora, you sacrifice potentially finding your—”

  “My what? My soul mate?” Zander scoffed. “I already found her, Theron. Years ago. Only she didn’t want me. Not enough.” At Theron’s pitying expression, Zander nearly laughed at the irony, even as he felt the ache he’d gotten good at ignoring bubble deep in his chest. “Yeah, Hera’s curse about an Argonaut finding his soul mate and losing her, then being nothing but a shell? It’s true. I know from experience. Before her? I didn’t know what I was missing. Since? It’s like one long-ass day that keeps repeating itself over and over, only there’s no way I can get past it. And you know what? I’m tired of it.”

  “Zander…”

  The sympathy he heard in his kinsman’s voice was too much, and he ran a hand over his brow. If he didn’t get this conversation back on track he was going to spill the beans to Theron about all the really ugly shit that had gone down, and he didn’t want that. He needed to keep it locked inside. Where it was his and no one else’s.

  “Look. You told me to find something worth living for. That’s what I’m trying to do.” He dropped his hand. “The only thing that means anything to me these days is the fighting, which, if I keep going down the path I’ve been on, I won’t even have anymore. No one else wants to do this and I can. So”—he blew out a long breath—“say yes. Save the other guys from having to make a sacrifice you know they can’t handle and tell the king you support my binding with Isadora. And let’s be done with this.”

  Theron studied him so long, Zander wasn’t sure the Argonaut had heard him. His heart thumped hard in his chest as he waited. If Theron said no…he wasn’t sure what he’d do. He felt like he’d just been thrown a lifeline, something real to grasp onto. Something that would give him a reason to live instead of just going through the motions. And now Theron alone had the power to crush the one spark of hope he’d had in years.

  Finally, Theron said, “The king wants heirs. It’s the entire reason he’s forcing this marriage on Isadora.”

  “I know.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  Was he? It meant sex. With an Argolean. Not a human woman. “I have to be, right?”

  “He won’t let you fight. He’ll take you out of the rotation and keep you in Argolea until she’s with child or an heir is born.”

  Zander hadn’t thought of that. “Okaaaay. Yeah. I guess…that makes sense.”

  “And there’s always the question of your…virility. You’ve taken more than your fair share of beatings over the years.”

  That was Theron’s polite way of saying Zander may have been kicked in the balls one too many times to sire a child. On this, at least, Zander knew he was certain. A sound that was half chuckle, half harrumph came out of him. “I’m fertile. Don’t worry about that.”

  “How do you know—?”

  “Because I’ve worked that particular magic before.”

  Theron’s brows drew together. “You have a child?”

  Had was more accurate. Or, almost had. The ache intensified in his chest. “Not anymore.”

  “Skata. Zander…”

  Okay, now things were getting way too real for Zander. He rubbed a hand across his lower lip. “Look, they’re waiting for us. Just say yes, Theron.”

  Theron sighed. The battle raging inside him was palpable. He, of any of the Argonauts, would know the sacrifice Zander was making. Because he was the only one who’d found his soul mate. And obviously, just the thought of losing Casey was enough to tear him apart. “You can’t change your mind. Once the ceremony is final, that’s it. No one else but her.”

  “I know.”

  “You’re willing to make that commitment to Isadora? Even knowing she’s…still out there?”

  Zander thought about the “she” Theron was referring to. Wondered what the Argonaut would say if he knew that she was right in the next room. Then thought about all the years he’d wished things could be different, that she’d made a different choice, that she’d picked him over her domineering father. Or that he could just get beyond her betrayal and forgive her. But he couldn’t. Every time he looked at Callia, he didn’t see the beauty that she was or the power that she held, he saw what she’d done. And even now, as he remembered, it pierced his chest as fresh and sharp as it had that day.

  “I am,” he said with more conviction than Theron needed. But then, that conviction wasn’t for Theron, was it? It was for him. And what he was about to do.

  “Isadora will never be your soul mate, Zander,” Theron said quietly.

  “That’s why I want to bind myself to her.”

  Theron turned and glanced toward the king’s door, rubbed a hand over his face as if he was exhausted. Blew out a long, long breath. “Okay,” he finally said. “Okay, you have my endorsement. It’s up to the king, but…” He looked back at Zander with a mixture of pity and respect that was oddly reassuring, then placed his large han
d on Zander’s shoulder. The Argonaut markings, the ancient Greek text, ran down his forearms to entwine his fingers, just like they did on Zander’s arms, just like they did on the arms of all the Argonauts. “You have my respect. And my gratitude. What you do here, you do for all of us. I won’t forget this. None of us will.”

  The emotion swirling in Zander’s chest was unfamiliar. Not excitement, or even happiness really, because he was neither excited nor happy. No, this was different. It was warm and encapsulating, and it radiated from the center of his being.

  It was…pride, he finally realized. For the first time in longer than he could remember, he was proud of what he was doing. For someone else. For his people. For their protection and way of life. And it felt good. Damn good, because…it meant he wasn’t numb anymore.

  He was too pansy-assed choked up to say anything, so he only nodded and followed Theron back into the king’s chambers.

  The room quieted once more as they entered, and he met the expectant looks of each of his guardian kin with a reassuring nod. But he didn’t look at Callia, standing near the king’s bed. Couldn’t. And he told himself that was a good thing. Because his past with her ended here. His future—for the next five hundred years, at least—was with the gynaíka on the other side of the room. The one he intended to marry, bed and impregnate all in the next week.

  His stomach tightened at that little reality, but he lifted his head, held still and let Theron take the lead.

  “Your Highness,” Theron said, his deep voice like a boom to seal Zander’s fate. “I recommend you reconsider your choice. Zander has my full support as the guardian best fit to marry Isadora.”

  No one said a word. Behind him, Zander could hear Demetrius suck in a breath and hold it. Across the room, Isadora and Callia stared at him. The king frowned, obviously contemplating his options. And he didn’t look altogether ecstatic at what he was thinking.

  Just say yes. Beads of sweat broke out on Zander’s forehead as he waited. His conversation with the king weeks ago—when Theron had nearly walked away from the Argonauts—flashed in his brain. The king hadn’t been happy when he’d sided with Theron. Looked less than thrilled now. If the king held that against him…