His people. The maenads. Talisa…
He looked toward Nick again, his skin itching with the need to thank him, to say something to show his gratitude. But… How do you thank the one person who has reason to hate you most in the world and come off as sincere when you’ve done terrible things no one should ever be forgiven for?
“Ah, Ziggy.” Lachesis sighed. “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t hate you anymore. He never truly did. If it weren’t for you, he never would have found his mate. And they wouldn’t have their son.”
Zagreus glanced her way. “Cynna had the baby?”
She nodded and smiled. “A very powerful baby. Alexios.”
“Defender,” he muttered to himself, looking back at Nick, knowing the name fit if the kid was anything like his father.
Almost as if he heard Zagreus’s whirring thoughts, Nick looked his way then slowly nodded. There was no vengeance in Nick’s eyes. No hatred, either. All Zagreus saw when his uncle’s gaze met his own was acceptance.
Nick glanced away, pointed something out to the Argonauts down the hill in the village, then headed that way with them.
And stunned speechless by what had just happened—what he’d learned—all Zagreus could do was watch as Talisa’s father moved in the opposite direction, headed right toward him.
There were a million things he wanted to say to Theron, but all of them sounded lame in his head. And none would ever be enough to prove to the leader of the Argonauts that he deserved his daughter.
Zagreus’s heart raced as Theron stopped feet away.
The Argonaut’s unreadable gaze skipped over Zagreus for several moments, making him sweat even though they both knew he was the stronger being.
Finally, Theron scowled and nodded at the Fate. “She told me who you really are. And I have to say, from a father’s perspective, I’m not so sure the god of alcoholics and orgies is an improvement over a psychopathic devil.”
Lachesis burst out laughing. Around them, Zagreus was aware of whispers growing, that nymphs and silens had taken notice of his presence. But he didn’t care.
“No orgies,” he promised. “None that include me, anyway. There’s only one female who has power over me.”
“Hm.” Theron’s gaze narrowed. “Let’s hope that’s true. We’re taking a big gamble on you.”
His skin tingled with excitement, but before Zagreus could reassure him, Theron frowned. “I supposed I have to call you Dionysus now, huh?”
Talisa called him Dios—of the light. The special nickname made sense now. And he wanted it to remain special only to her. “I’m fine with Zagreus.”
Theron slowly nodded. “She wasn’t feeling up for a party tonight. She went for a hike.”
Fire flared in Zagreus’s blood. Without even having to search, he knew where to find her. “Thank you.”
He stepped around Theron, anxious to get to Talisa. At his back, the leader of the Argonauts said, “Don’t think this means I won’t be watching you, prince.”
Zagreus smirked and looked back. “I’d expect nothing less, hero.”
Lying on her back in the middle of the floor, Talisa stared up at the lookout’s high arched windows and watched the water cascade from the cliff above to the lake far below. A hypnotic rush of droplets that passed through her line of sight faster than her heartbeat.
She sighed, wishing that heart wouldn’t ache so much with each damn beat, but after six months it still wasn’t anywhere close to normal. She doubted it ever would be.
She’d been coming up here more often. Whenever she needed time to herself. Settling in Ehrendia permanently had definitely been the right decision for her. It had given her a purpose—was a distraction from the pain. She loved the land and the people and her duties, even if the duties of protecting and running an entire kingdom were a lot more involved than Zagreus had let on. But sometimes she needed to get away from the nymphs and silens and yes, even the Argonauts, and just be.
Sometimes, she just needed to sit and remember so she could remind herself why she was here in the first place.
Her chest tightened, and hot tears burned the backs of her eyes. Tossing an arm over her face, she drew in a shaky breath and blew it out, determined not to give in and cry. It hadn’t helped once over the last few months, and she hadn’t come up here to let loose her own waterfall. She’d come up here to pull herself together.
“Pathetic,” she muttered as her nose itched and that burn grew hotter. “Just pathetic.”
“What’s pathetic?”
She froze when she heard the voice above her. The familiar voice. Close.
Heart thundering, she slowly lowered her arm and looked up.
At his sparkling onyx eyes gazing down at her as he sat beside her on the plush, white round carpet she’d added to the other furnishings in the room. At his handsome face and the dark stubble on his square jaw, illuminated by dozens of candles around the room. Candles she’d never brought up here and ones that hadn’t been lit moments before.
Wide-eyed, she pushed up on her hands and stared at him. “I’m dreaming again. This isn’t real. You’re not real.”
One side of his luscious lips curled, and he reached for her hand. “Are you sure about that?”
Warmth seeped into her fingers—warmth that shouldn’t be in a dream—and she watched, mesmerized, as he drew her hand forward, then placed her palm right over his heart.
The strong, steady, thump, thump, thump beneath her hand shot her eyes even wider. Her gaze darted from where she touched him to his face. “I-I can feel your heart.”
“It only beats because of you, mono mia.”
All the pain, all the misery, all the heartache rushed away from her on a wave. Because he wasn’t a dream. Wasn’t a hallucination. He was real. He was here. He was home.
She scrambled onto his lap, grabbed his face with hands she knew were way too rough, and pressed her mouth to his.
He groaned. Tangled one hand in her hair to hold close. Tugged her tighter against his lap with an arm around her waist. Then he opened to her kiss. And when his tongue swept over hers and the warm wetness of his mouth hit her senses, all the suffering over the last six months was replaced with a groundswell of heat and life and love she’d thought she’d lost forever.
Breathless, she drew back from his lips, just a touch, but she didn’t let him move away. Couldn’t.
“I…” She looked down at the tender skin she’d just kissed, loving that he wasn’t letting her go, either. “I don’t understand. It’s been so long. I thought…” She kissed him softly once again, then lifted her gaze to his eyes. “Where the hell have you been?”
He trailed his silky fingers down her spine, the gentle touch leaving a tingle behind, one she ached to feel on her bare skin. “Fighting my way back to you. I would have come sooner if I could. There’s no sense of time in the Underworld.”
Fear curled around her heart like a fist, and she drew back another inch so she could see his eyes better. “The”—she swallowed hard—“Underworld?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t look away from her, but his eyes were clear, not haunted or tinged with shadows of his torment as she feared. “And I’m fine. As long as I knew you were safe, nothing he did could break me.”