The fever was gone. The heat inside her still smoldered, but it was contained somewhere…safe. Power gathered at her center, yet it wasn’t the same uncontrollable intensity she’d experienced before. This was strong. Directed. Hers.
She unwound her arm from her knees and held her hand out. Imagined flames. Fire ignited in the palm of her hand. Her eyes grew wide with wonder. She closed her hand into a fist, and the flame went out. No pain. No struggle. Just strength. Opening her palm once more, she saw nothing but perfect skin.
“Holy Hera.”
The whispered words brought Natasa around. She looked out over smoking ash and rain-soaked grass toward a group of men and one woman. Three men stared in shock. The woman sat on the ground tugging her dress into place. Another man was smiling—this one familiar—and the last was on his knees, his hands on his thighs, his head hanging forward, dark, stringy, wet hair shielding his face.
“Fotia,” the smiling man said in a low and proud voice. “My rising phoenix.”
No, not a man. A god. A Titan.
Her father, Prometheus.
Slowly, the kneeling man lifted his head. Hazel eyes met hers. And warmth exploded deep in her chest.
Titus.
“Oh my gods,” he whispered.
He lurched to his feet and sprinted across the mud and ash toward her.
Natasa pushed to her feet, as anxious to get to him as he was to her. His arms closed around her. But before she could grab on, he yanked back and dropped to his knees again, gasping for breath.
“Titus?” She reached out to help him up, afraid he’d slipped in the mud or fallen or—
He held up a hand to block her from touching him again. Slapped his other hand against his chest and rasped in a breath. “Don’t. Just…wait.”
Understanding dawned at the pain she saw twisting his features. The fire element was contained. It was no longer consuming her. And he could feel her.
No, no, no…
“Rising phoenix? Smart move, old man.”
Natasa jerked her attention from Titus toward the dark-haired god who’d appeared out of nowhere, moving toward her from the left, a licentious smile curling his lips.
Zeus. She felt the power radiating from him, knew he was the King of the Gods, knew he was here for her.
“I told you this would pay off, brother.”
She whipped to her right, where Poseidon was also advancing fast, a blinding, evil light alive in his blue eyes.
“From the transmutation of fire,” Poseidon went on, “we can create the other elements. Hades will never be the wiser.”
“You were right,” Zeus said, his eyes locked on Natasa. He tsked. “I missed you, flame. That was naughty of you to run away.”
The three Argonauts drew their weapons, then put themselves between her and the gods. Titus tried to push to his feet in the mud, but dropped back down when his legs gave out. Her father moved toward her, as if he were going to try to protect her.
Instinct crashed in. A need to guard. One that had nothing to do with self-preservation and everything to do with protecting those she loved.
She lifted her hands over her head, swirling them high. Flames erupted in a circle all around her, the Argonauts, the nymph, and her father, blocking the Olympian gods from reaching them.
Poseidon jumped back and cursed. Zeus thrust his hands forward, throwing lightning toward the flames, trying to break them open. The bolts hit the flames and shot back. Zeus scrambled to the side and only just missed being fried. Irate, Poseidon swept his arms toward the lake and back in a fierce move. Water surged forward, flooded the land and crashed against the flames. The wall of fire grew higher, protecting them.
At Natasa’s side, her father chuckled and muttered, “Take that, you scheming Olympians.”
Wide-eyed, the Argonauts looked from one god’s enraged face to the next, then at each other. But it was Titus, Natasa focused on. Still kneeling in the mud, staring up at her with pained, heartbroken, beautiful eyes.
She dropped to her knees in the muddy ash and rested her hands on her thighs. She’d gotten exactly what she’d wanted, but something in the bottom of her soul said it had come with a price.
“You saved me again,” he said quietly.
“We saved each other. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
A weak smile tugged at his mouth.
She wanted to reach out to him, to gather him in her arms. To kiss away the pain brewing in his eyes. But she was the cause of it. All the heartache he’d experienced, all the panic…it was all because of her. And now…now even her touch caused him agony.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think there was another way. I didn’t want Poseidon to have the element, and I made that deal with him before I ever even knew about you. I…I was trying to protect you from getting hurt.”
“It’s okay.”
Tears filled her eyes. “No, it’s not. I should have believed that everything I ever needed would find me if I was patient. I don’t know how I can ever make that up to you.”
The flicker of flames reflected deeply in his eyes. Her flames. “You just did.”
Gods, Titus…I love you.
A sad smile turned his lips. Didn’t come close to reaching his beautiful eyes. “I know.”
Tears ran down her cheeks to mix with the rain. Vaguely she was aware of someone wrapping a wet shirt around her naked body, but she barely cared. All she could see and feel and focus on was the man—hero—who’d brought her back to life. Who’d given her life.
“I’ve spent my whole life thinking I didn’t need a soul mate,” he whispered. “I was wrong. I love you too, Natasa. More than you will ever know.”
They were the words she longed to hear, and yet her heart shattered in the rain between them. For months, all she’d hoped and prayed and pleaded for was that the fever would leave her. Now she only wanted it back.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Krónos’s son… Krónos’s son…
No. Fucking. Way.
Nick swallowed the revulsion as he followed Zagreus down a long hallway. The walls were made of rock, the floor dirt and mud beneath his feet. Water dripped from cracks in the ceiling, drizzled down the walls and pooled on the ground. They were in some kind of cave. Underground. The chain cuffed to his wrist rattled with every step.
They’d flashed here from the colony. Zagreus had pulled him into the tunnels. Hades… He didn’t know where the hell Hades had gone. Questions swirled in his mind—if Isadora was okay, what was happening back at the colony, where his people had gone, and what would become of them. But circling loudest was the biggest question of all, the words Hades had dropped like a bombshell.
Krónos’s son…
No. Not possible. His father had been human. His mother—the same blood he shared with Demetrius—a goddess, albeit twisted. He had the markings on his forearms and wrists, proving he was a demigod. Proving what Hades had said couldn’t be real.
The crack of a whip echoed through the corridor, followed by a muffled scream, and then a moan.
Nick’s adrenaline surged, followed by a thrill, which he couldn’t stop, that shot through his veins.
“You’re wondering if my father was lying,” Zagreus said, not bothering to face him. “I assure you he wasn’t. My father doesn’t lie. Deceives, yes. But never lies.”
Another scream echoed off the stone walls. The darkness inside Nick surged to the forefront, excited, anticipating what lay on the other side of these rocks.
“They’ll die. You know this, right? Your Argonaut friends might have survived this battle, but they won’t win this war. They’re going to waste all their time finding the remaining elements only to destroy the Orb of Krónos, when now it’s probably the only thing that can save them.” He shot an amused look over his shoulder. “You didn’t think Krónos wouldn’t have a backup plan, did you?”