Chapter 5 #2
When he was fully seated, we both went still. The glow under my skin pulsed brighter, and something shifted in the air around us. The bond, strengthening with our joining.
“Move.” I rolled my hips, testing the feel of him inside me.
His control shattered. He pulled away and thrust back inside, setting a rhythm that was both tender and demanding. Each stroke hit places inside me that made light explode behind my eyelids. “You’re mine,” he growled. “Say it.”
“Yours! I’m yours, Theron!”
I could feel him everywhere, in my bones, in my blood, claiming me completely. His sheer presence erased every cruel word I’d ever believed about myself. Death energy pulsed between us, weaving through the hellfire that consumed everything but me.
I could almost see them now, the threads he had spoken about. The lines of power that would bind us forever. They wove around us, gentle, but undeniable, a fate we’d always been meant to have.
Theron could see it too, because with every single thrust, he became more feral. “Come for me! Come for your mate.”
His words triggered something inside me I hadn’t even known was there. Ecstasy erupted over me, and I screamed. His name? Mine? A plea? I didn’t know. I couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, could barely even breathe. The only thing I could focus on was the pleasure.
My body drew him in deeper, as greedy for him as he was for me.
Theron didn’t disappoint. He roared his release, his fangs finding my throat as he spilled inside me.
Hellfire exploded around us, so violent it cracked the stone ceiling.
But he didn’t bite, not yet. Instead, he held me as I shook apart in his arms, murmuring broken endearments into my hair.
Through some kind of miracle, I managed to make myself speak. “Now.” I bared my throat, offering myself to him. “Please, now. Claim me.”
Theron pressed his fangs against my pulse. The claiming bite would complete our soul bond, sealing what had begun in a massacre and grown through recognition.
The door exploded inward.
“By order of the Moirae!” A familiar white-furred figure strode through the entrance. “Stand down, brother.”
Loxias. The Orthrus who’d bid twenty thousand crystals against Theron at the market. He stepped into Theron’s den, surveying the scene with cold silver eyes.
Theron went rigid, his protective snarl shaking dust from the ceiling. “Get out,” he snapped. “Now.”
Behind Loxias, a harpy folded her wings, feathers ruffling nervously.
A minotaur followed in their wake, his bulk filling the doorway.
But it was only Loxias who spoke. “Hellhound Theron, your claim has been formally challenged. By ancient law, the union cannot be completed until the Moirae render judgment.”
Somehow, even if I’d known this was too good to be true, I wasn’t prepared for this. “Judgment? What kind of judgment?”
“Phonos of House Keres has invoked his right of formal challenge,” Loxias replied, still as calm as before. “The Moirae will hear both cases and decide the matter.”
Theron slid out of me, and I barely managed not to flinch. He cradled me close to his chest, hiding me from sight. “The bidding is finished. She chose me.”
Loxias didn’t seem to care about his brother’s arguments. “The choice must be ratified through proper channels. Callista comes into the protection of the Weaveguard until the hearing concludes.”
Protection? This had to be some kind of joke. The only place I’d ever felt safe was with Theron.
“I won’t go,” I said, burying myself deeper into Theron’s embrace. “You can’t force me.”
The harpy shot me an almost chastising look. “Lady Callista, you don’t understand the—”
A new voice cut her off before she could finish the phrase. “Callista’s refusal should be respected. She’s the one whose future must be prioritized. Not yours, and certainly not Phonos’s.”
Iaso glided into the den, her serpent hair writhing. Each snake was alert and agitated, nothing like the strangely welcoming creatures I’d met in the infirmary.
Loxias acknowledged Iaso’s arrival with a dip of his head. “Healer Iaso, the Moirae’s orders were clear.”
“Were they?” The Medusa stared at Loxias without blinking. “Or are you exceeding your authority by treating Callista as property?”
For the first time, I remembered the tales spoken of in Agrion. Similar to basilisks, creatures like Iaso could kill others with a simple look, turning them into stone. I half-expected her to do exactly that, to transform Loxias into nothing more than a statue.
But Iaso didn’t attack. Instead, she said, “Callista is distressed. She requires medical attention after such trauma.”
Loxias narrowed his eyes. “This entire matter is unfortunate. But formal challenges cannot be ignored, regardless of timing.”
“Then don’t make it worse.” Iaso’s snakes rose, forming a protective crown around her face. “Or shall I report to the Moirae that you ignored Callista’s medical needs?”
Theron remained perfectly still, but I felt the change in him. Every muscle had gone rigid with barely leashed violence. His claws had extended without him seeming to notice, carving shallow grooves in the stone under his palms.
“She goes with Iaso,” he said, each word carefully controlled. “No one else touches her.”
“Very well.” Loxias gestured to the harpy with obvious relief. “Bring suitable clothing.”
The political maneuvering disgusted me. But Iaso’s intervention offered an escape route that wouldn’t force Theron to fight his own brother. Ignoring the harpy, I pulled the cream dress over my head.
“I don’t need anything from you,” I said, standing on shaking legs. “And I hope you know this changes nothing. I’ve already made my decision.”
“I’m not the one who needs to hear that,” Loxias answered. His voice held something distant, like a warning and a promise wrapped into one.
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell us what this is actually about,” Iaso prodded. When Loxias just stared at her in silence, she sighed and extended her hand. “I thought so. Come, child. You need rest before facing whatever political theater awaits.”
My brand still pulsed with warmth, but it felt weaker now. Distant. Our bond remained incomplete, hanging in the balance of whatever challenge Phonos had engineered.
“How long?” Theron asked, baring his fangs at his brother. “How long until the hearing?”
“The Moirae will summon all parties when they’re ready,” Loxias said, pausing in the doorway. “Could be hours. Could be days.”
Hours. Days. Time for Phonos to plan and prepare, while Theron could do nothing but wait. The unfairness burned in my throat like acid.
“It doesn’t matter, Callista,” Theron told me, seeing straight through my facade of bravery. “It could take aeons, and I’d still find you.”
There was such certainty in his voice, as if he was truly willing to take on the devastating force of his rulers for me. It seemed impossible, but I refused to doubt him. “I’ll wait, then. As long as it takes.”
The goodbye hurt almost as much as Syagros’s horn had. Still, I couldn’t fight the unavoidable forever. When Iaso guided me past the retreating guards, I followed her without protest.
My last sight of the den showed Theron standing in the ruined chamber, magnificent, furious, and utterly alone. The brand on my hand pulsed once more, then went dark.