Torn between what was none of her business and the regret she knew she’d experience later if she kept quiet, Callia heard herself say, “Tell him no, Isadora.”
Isadora’s brown eyes slowly lifted, and Callia sucked in a breath at what she saw. No, they weren’t flat. They looked dead. As if she’d given up all hope.
“It won’t do any good.”
“It will,” Callia protested, unsure why she felt the need to help the princess so strongly. “Stand up for yourself. Prove him wrong. Prove them all wrong.”
Isadora’s eyes didn’t even flicker. And Callia had a sickening sensation in the pit of her stomach. What had happened to the princess? This was more than simply being beaten down by her father.
“Stay out of things that do not concern you.”
She turned before Callia could even respond, and Callia sighed as she watched the princess go. Maybe Isadora was right. This wasn’t her concern. Sure, she felt bad for the gynaíka, but really…it was foolish to worry about someone else when Callia had bigger problems.
Resigned, she left her bag in the study and followed Isadora back to the king’s chambers, thankful, at least for now, that the buzzing in her brain was gone. They made it as far as the grand staircase before voices drifting up from below stopped Callia’s feet.
Male voices. Mixed with heavy footsteps that sounded like a herd of elephants had stormed the castle.
The Argonauts. All of them, just as the king had ordered. Callia’s stomach jumped into her throat and perspiration popped out all over her skin even though she’d mentally prepared for this moment from the second she’d heard the king’s command.
Theron led the group and bowed his head quickly when he saw the two of them standing at the top of the fourth floor. “Isadora. Callia.” His dark eyes homed in on Callia. “How is the king today?”
“Holding steady.” She tried to focus on his features, but the Argonaut was huge—six feet five inches of solid muscle, broad shoulders and legs like tree trunks. Alone he was intimidating, but followed by five more Argonauts, each equally big and imposing as he was? He was like the beginning of a tidal wave about to sweep her under.
“That’s good,” Theron said. “I take it he’s ready for us, then?”
She would have answered, she really would have. But her eyes were searching of their own accord, skipping right over Demetrius and the other Argonauts until they finally landed on Zander. Alone at the end of the group, turning at the base of the stairs and heading her way.
Okay, mentally preparing herself and actually being in the same room with him again were two very different things. She sucked in a shocked breath, even though—dammit—she tried not to. But it wasn’t just him that elicited the reaction—at least she told herself that much—it was what had been done to him.
His face was black and blue from temple to jaw on one whole side. A myriad of cuts and scrapes marred his tanned skin. While his short blond hair was wet and slicked back as if he’d just splashed water on his face, and the white shirt he wore was clean and crisp, neither hid the pain etched into his features or the way his left arm hung at an odd angle.
He’d obviously been in the human world, fighting daemons, which was what he’d been bred to do. But a small part of her quickened with fear just as it did every time she thought of something bad happening to him.
Which was…bone-brain idiotic. Because he couldn’t care less about what happened to her.
“Callia?”
Theron’s voice finally registered, and her gaze jerked back to the leader of the Argonauts, studying her with curious eyes. In a rush she realized several other guardians were also looking at her funny, and even Isadora was wringing her hands, watching her with a perplexed look.
“Y-yes?”
“The king?” Theron asked with raised eyebrows.
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” She shook off the flood of emotions seeing Zander always conjured, pushed them down deep, as she’d gotten good at doing over the years, and turned for the king’s chamber. “He’s ready and waiting.”
Her anxiety lessened when they stepped into the room. But that damn buzz picked up all over again.
Althea, who had been helping the king get situated with his mountain of pillows, went scurrying out as soon as she saw the Argonauts. Casey turned from the window as they filed inside. Wishing she had some lavender for her suddenly throbbing head, Callia took up a space in the far corner of the room, near the king in case he needed her, but well out of the way. She didn’t miss the warm smile spreading across Casey’s face when she spotted her new husband, or the way Theron’s eyes lit in response.
“Meli.” Theron went to the king’s half-breed daughter. Kissed her cheek and temple. They exchanged quiet words as the room filled with more people than it could contain. And though he probably didn’t realize it, Theron transformed from badass-biker-dude intimidating to downright handsome as he smiled at Casey and took her into his arms.
A hollow ache hit Callia midchest as she watched. There’d been a time, not all that long ago, when she’d felt the same consuming, electrifying emotions. Her eyes skipped back over the group to where Isadora was leaning against the far wall, also well away from the others, a far cry from the happily-ever-after her sister had found. Then to Zander, standing only inches inside the doorway, ready to bolt at the first possible opportunity.
Yeah, she knew that feeling all too well. It was the same one she got whenever she saw him. Anger welled up in her chest as his gaze bounced anywhere but at her. He’d shaved off the little bit of facial hair he had the last time she’d seen him, but even bruised and beaten he looked more like Adonis than his ancestor Achilles. Bronze and blond, buff and beautiful. He was the oldest of the Argonauts. The only one rumored to be immortal. The one she’d once foolishly thought she’d spend her life with.
“I’ll get right to the point,” the king said, cutting through Callia’s dark thoughts, bringing her attention back where it needed to be. His voice wavered from his illness, but didn’t break. “The situation with the Council is getting out of hand. They’ve made no overt threat, but rumblings are filtering through and it’s clear they’re preparing to strike as soon as I pass. While Theron and I have had our disagreements of late”—the king inclined his head toward where he’d last heard Theron’s voice—“we both believe that the future of the Argonauts cannot fall into the Council’s control. Lucian has made no qualms about the fact he wants the Argonauts replaced by the Executive Guard. I don’t have to tell you that doing so would be our greatest downfall.”
He paused to take a breath, and this time Theron dropped his head and focused on Casey’s hand, which he held in his own, as if he knew what was coming but didn’t want to hear it.
“While I am pleased that Theron chose to marry one of my daughters, now that their binding is complete, it has left the monarchy once again vulnerable to the secret plottings of the Council. I see no other choice but for the same solution as before. Theron and I are both in agreement that Isadora must marry—”
“You knew?” Casey’s head jerked up, and she pinned her new husband with an outraged look.
“Shh, meli.” Theron patted her hand.
“—and that her husband must be from the Argonauts.” The king’s words didn’t seem to appease Casey. She glared from her husband to her father. But lucky for the king, he couldn’t see her reaction. Just as he couldn’t see the sudden tightening of the shoulders of every Argonaut in the room. “We have disagreed on just who that should be. But as king, the decision falls to me.”
He pulled in a breath and seemed to grow a foot, looking very much the regal king he’d once been, commanding an impressive amount of authority from his deathbed. “Because Jason’s line is the second strongest of the Argonauts, that responsibility falls to you, Demetrius.”