Her words died on a gasp.
“What?” Zagreus dropped his hand from the fireplace and turned. “Did you find it?”
The nymph had backed herself against the wall, her eyes wide and horror-filled. She pointed toward the bed. “L-look.”
Zagreus stepped onto the platform and looked down at Talisa, still out cold, her head tipped to the right on the pillow, her arms limp at her sides against the comforter. Ana had managed to get the bindings off her wrists along with the corset and blouse, but that was it. The soft, smooth skin of Talisa’s belly drew Zagreus’s attention. The small indentation of her belly button. Then the perfect swell of her breasts covered by the thin, black satin of her bra.
That heat resurged inside him, stronger this time, urging him forward. Taunting him to touch and taste and take. Especially when he saw the two small bumps pushing against the satiny fabric on each side of her nipples.
He licked his lips, anxious to see just what kind of treasures she was hiding under that bra, and was about to find out when Ana said, “Her arms. Don’t you see it?”
His gaze shifted to her arms, both bare, lying motionless against the bed. Both marked with ancient Greek text from her forearms down the backs of her hands to entwine her fingers.
“She’s an Argonaut,” Ana snapped. “Do you know what that means? It means other Argonauts will be looking for her. And wherever they go, trouble isn’t far behind. God trouble, like the kind Zeus and Hades cause with their armies. We don’t need that here. We won’t survive that here. She needs to leave this kingdom, right now.”
“She’s not going anywhere.”
“What?” Ana’s gaze shot his way. “Are you mad? She’s an Argonaut.”
“There are no female Argonauts.”
“She has the markings.”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s untrained.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know.” He pinned the nymph with a hard look. “Those markings are unimportant. Keep searching.”
She stared at him as if he’d grown a third eyeball right in the middle of his forehead, but he didn’t care. The markings on her arms meant nothing. And they weren’t the marking he was desperate to find.
Ana didn’t argue again, just went back to tugging at Talisa’s clothing with jerking motions and a clenched jaw that told Zagreus the nymph was good and ticked.
As if he cared. There was more at stake here than one inconsequential nymph’s feelings.
Anticipation curled inside him as he stood beside Ana and watched her work. Ana reached for the waistband of Talisa’s slim black pants and tugged them down on the right side, then the left. The smooth skin of Talisa’s lower belly came into view, her hipbones, and—
“What in Hades...” Ana let go of the left side of Talisa’s waistband and tugged lower on the right, exposing the female’s hipbone and the marking visible on her pale skin. “What is that?”
Zagreus pushed Ana aside, ignoring the nymph’s question, instead focusing on the straight lines and rounded curves of the marking.
To the average eye, it probably looked like an arrowhead or a dagger of some kind. An upside down V connected by an open circle at the bottom. But Zagreus knew the truth. Two symbols—the alpha marking, upright, and the omega marking upside down—joined at the bases.
His hand drifted forward, and he skimmed his fingertips over the lines and curves on Talisa’s hip. Warmth radiated from the spot. A warmth that seemed to grow hotter by the second. In his left hip, where the same exact marking was branded upside down with the omega symbol on top, heat erupted. And echoing in his head, he heard words. Ancient words he’d heard long ago…
The alpha and the omega, the beginning and the end...
His gaze shot to Talisa’s face. To her mesmerizing violet eyes softly closed, to her dark lashes skimming supple skin, to her perfect nose and high cheekbones, and her plump lips barely parted as she slept.
She looked nothing like he remembered. Nothing like he expected. But she was her.
His mono mia.
His one and only.
The urge to wake her, to take her, to reforge the connection he’d broken so many times consumed him. But he fought it. Fought back the rush of heat and the insatiable need to claim her body with his own.
He’d lost her so many times before—too many times. And the last time...
It had been so long ago. He wouldn’t survive another five hundred years by himself if he screwed this up. He had only one chance.
He lifted his hand from her hip. Straightened. But couldn’t tear his gaze from her face. Not even for a second.
“Go prepare a bath for her,” he said to Ana, still standing at his side.
“But she’s out cold.”
“She’ll be awake soon.”
“But—”
“Just do it.”
From the corner of his vision, he saw Ana’s mouth snap close and her lips thin in anger, but she didn’t argue. She swept into the bathroom with a huff and began filling the tub.
Zagreus’s heart beat hard and fast as he stepped toward the head of the bed, gently lifted Talisa’s shoulders from the mattress, and sat in the pillows behind her, letting her rest back against his chest.
She was soft everywhere he was hard. Warm where he was cold. And the scent of her skin—a mixture of citrus, vanilla, and spices—left him lightheaded and aching to taste her. Everywhere.
Sampling her was all he could think about, all he could focus on as he lifted his wrist to his lips and sank his teeth into the tough flesh until the coppery tang of blood flooded his tongue.
He tugged his wrist away and held it over her parted lips. “You’re mine, mona mia. Your mind might not remember me, but your body does. It’s why you found me tonight.” His blood dripped into her mouth and slid across her tongue, connecting her to his life force. “And this will ensure that I can always find you.”
He watched as a droplet fell over her bottom lip, staining her perfect, pale skin bright red. And he fought the urge to lick it up with his tongue and press it deep into her mouth, where other, more arousing parts of his body belonged.
Oh, how he wanted that. Wanted to feel her lips and tongue sliding over every inch of his flesh. But there would be time for that later. A lifetime to remind her what he liked.
After she submitted to him in every way possible.
Heat erupted in the marking on his hip and spread through his groin as he pressed his bloody wrist against her lips and leaned close to her ear. A heat that left him hard and hot and ready in a way he hadn’t been in over five hundred years.
“You belong to me, mono mia,” he whispered. “You always have. I’ll make you remember. I’ll make you feel it too even if I have to force you. Because I’m never letting you go. You’re mine, female. You’re all mine now. Forever.”
“Everything looks good,” Delia said from the other side of the drape while Cynna pulled her cream sweater down over her black leggings then sat on the chair and tugged on her knee-high black boots. “Right on track. Have you shared the good news with your sister yet?”
“No, not yet.” Cynna slid the zipper up on the first boot, then did the same on the second, thinking of her half-sister, the queen of Argolea, and the stress this kind of news might cause her. “Nick’s still too worried to tell anyone. He’s sworn me to secrecy.”