She sucked in a breath and stilled as she squinted and tried to see clearer. Someone was sitting in a chair across the room. Someone big. Someone who was watching her from the shadows.
A weird sense of déjà vu rippled through her. That she’d been in this situation before. That she’d been watched like this in the past. That the person, male, being seated across from her wasn’t a stranger as her mind wanted her to believe. But that he was familiar. Known.
Hers.
“I see you’re finally awake,” the deep male voice said. The memorable voice. Zagreus’s voice. “That’s good, since we have much to discuss.”
This time it wasn’t just familiarity that rolled through her. It was heat. Wicked, sinful, sizzling heat. A heat something in the back of her mind said she’d experienced before. With him.
She sat up slowly, tamping down the ridiculous warmth inside, and scooted back into the pillows, thankful she wasn’t restrained.
She wasn’t sure what had happened in the time between his bringing her to this room and now, but the darkness out the windows told her it was still night. And she was wearing some kind of thin white nightgown that made her think someone—hopefully someone who was not him—had stripped, bathed, and dressed her.
She smoothed the blanket over her lap and worked to keep her temper in check. Losing it never won her any battles with her father or the Argonauts, and she knew it would win her even less with Zagreus. Plus, she could tell whatever spell he’d cast on her before was still working.
“Wh—” Her voice wavered, so she cleared it quickly and said stronger, “Where am I?”
“The Kingdom of Ehrendia.”
Shock hit. That she was actually in the mystical nymph kingdom. She’d heard rumors of its existence, of the magickal things that happened there, but no one from her realm had ever actually found it. She opened her mouth to say just that then remembered who had brought her here.
Zagreus. The Prince of Darkness. The god with a reputation for abducting and torturing nymphs.
Her back tensed, and she quickly closed her mouth.
In the shadows, he shifted in his seat but made no move to stand and come toward her—something she was thankful for.
“It’s protected,” he said. “The borders of this realm. In case you’re wondering. No one can enter without my knowledge. No one knows you’re here. And no one is going to come looking for you here, least of all your little Argonaut friends.”
So he knew she was Argolean. She glanced down at her arms, relieved the markings on her skin were covered by the long sleeves. If he’d been the one to change her, though, he had to have seen them.
Not that she cared. She lifted her chin. “And why am I here?”
The question she really wanted answered was why are you here? But she knew not to ask it. Knew that the answer was simply so he could torment some nymphs, as was his pattern.
“Because this is my home.” He leaned back in his seat, looking relaxed and at ease, not a bit on edge as she felt.
“You live here?” She almost huffed. “This is a far cry from the cenote lair you last occupied in the Yucatan.”
One side of his lips ticked up in the shadows. A smirk that shot another sultry blast of heat all through her. “My cenote lair was memorable.” His humor faded. “Of course, it was demolished long ago. Which you already know.”
His father had obliterated Zagreus’s underground hideout nearly twenty-eight years ago when he’d discovered Zagreus had double-crossed him.
Talisa wasn’t exactly sure why Zagreus had betrayed the god-king of the Underworld, nor did she care. The gods were always deceiving each other for one reason or another. All she cared about right now was learning something useful she could use to get out of this nightmare. And not antagonizing the powerful immortal in front of her.
Her mind spun with what she could ask without doing just that.
He leaned forward to rest his muscular forearms on his knees. “I know you have questions, mono mia. Now is your chance to ask them.”
She blinked several times. Mono mia? My only one?
What the hell did he mean by that? And why in Hades did it sound so damn decadent?
She shook off the strange feeling of déjà vu—again—and clenched her jaw. “Who changed me into”—she lifted her arms and looked down at the silly white gown—“this?”
“The nymphs. After they bathed you. You were muddy from before.”
Before. When she’d tried to run from him and tumbled into the dirt.
“Where are my clothes?”
“Being cleaned and mended.”
“When do I get them back?”
“When I decide you deserve them.”
He had her clothes, which meant he had her dagger, dammit. She glanced around the barren room. The shelves were now empty. Any books or candlesticks she could use as weapons had been removed.
Her temper inched up, but she worked to keep it in check. “Where are my friends?”
He studied her a minute, and she was sure he wasn’t going to answer, then he surprised her and said, “The male opened a portal after we left and sent the female home.”
“How do you know that?”
“My traveling companion saw it happen. He reported the news to me after we arrived here.”
She hadn’t noticed any companion with Zagreus in that club but refrained from asking more. She was just thankful Elysia was safe. “What about Max?”
“The blond male who attacked me?”
Her jaw clenched. He knew exactly who she was talking about. And Max had been defending her, not attacking for no reason.
Zagreus shifted his weight to one hand on his thigh and shrugged. “I have no idea. Probably dead.”
She pushed out of the pillows and gasped. “You ordered your satyrs to kill him? You son of a—”
“I already told you, they weren’t my satyrs.” His words were clipped, his voice harsh, and any friendliness she thought she’d heard before was long gone. “And I’ll remind you who you’re speaking to, female.”
Her mouth snapped shut. All too late she remembered he was a god. A powerful one. One who could incinerate her with a flick of his wrist. But that word—dead—was all she could focus on.
“This male meant something to you,” Zagreus said in the silence.
“Yes,” she snapped, working like hell not to yell. Trying—at the same time—not to give in and cry. “H-he was my cousin.”
Zagreus stared at her so long, she was sure he was just waiting for her to completely break down, but she wasn’t about to give him that. She swallowed back the misery and lifted her chin—again.
He dropped his hand from his leg and shrugged once more. “Well, if he’s of any special importance, those satyrs will realize it before they kill him. He could still be alive yet.”
“Special importance for what? For you?”
“Not for me. Regardless of what you think you know, I have no ties to the satyrs anymore.”
He pushed out of his seat before she could ask what that meant. But instead of stepping toward her as she expected, he turned for the door. “The satyrs may no longer be mine, but you are. The sooner you accept that, the better.”