Liora.
She was a beautiful woman, with hair as black as a raven's wing. Eyes as clear and blue as the open sea.
No wonder Ias missed her.
The woman was currently on her knees, weeping. "Please," she begged to the gods. "Please return my love to me. Please let my children have their father home."
Acheron felt sympathy for her at the sight and sound of her fears. No one had told her yet what'd happened. She was praying for the welfare of a man who was no longer with her.
It haunted him.
"I understand your sadness," he said to Ias. "But you can't let them know you live now in this form. Humans will fear you if you return home. Try to kill you."
Ias's eyes welled with tears and when he spoke, his fangs cut his lips. "Liora has no one else to care for her. She was an orphan and my brother was killed the day before I was. There is no one to provide for my children."
"You can't go back."
"Why not?" Ias asked angrily. "Artemis said that I could have my vengeance on the man who killed me and then I would be alive to serve her. She said nothing about my not being able to go home."
Acheron tightened his grip on his staff. "Ias, think for a moment. You are no longer human. How do you think your village would react if you returned home with fangs and black eyes? You can't venture out into daylight. Your allegiance is to all mankind, not just to your family. No one can meet the obligations of both. You can't ever go back."
The man's lips quivered, but he nodded in understanding. "I save the humans while my innocent family is cast out to starve with no one to protect them. So, that was my bargain."
Acheron looked away as his heart ached for the man and his family.
"Go inside with the others," Acheron said.
He watched Ias return while he thought over the man's words. He couldn't leave it like this.
Acheron could function alone, but the others . . .
Closing his eyes, he willed himself back to Artemis.
This time when her women opened their mouths to scream, Artemis froze their vocal cords. "Leave us," she commanded them.
The women rushed for the door as fast as they could, then slammed it shut behind them.
As soon as they were alone, Artemis smiled at him. "You are back. I didn't expect to see you so soon."
"Don't, Artemis," he said, curbing her playfulness before she started with it. "I'm basically back to yell at you."
"For what?"
"How dare you lie to those men to get them into your service."
"I never lie."
He arched a brow.
Looking instantly uncomfortable, she cleared her throat and leaned back into her throne. "You were different and I didn't lie. I merely forgot to mention a few things."
"That is semantics, Artemis, and this isn't about me. This is about what you've done to them. You can't leave those poor bastards out there like you have."
"Why not? You've survived quite well on your own."
"I was never the same as they and well you know it. I had nothing in my life to go back to. No family, no friends."
"I take exception to that. What was I?"
"A mistake that I've been lamenting for the last two thousand years."
Her face flushed. She came off her throne and descended two stairs to stand before him. "How dare you speak to me that way!"
Acheron whipped his cloak off and tossed it and his staff angrily into a corner. "Kill me for it, Artemis. Go right ahead. Do us both a favor and put me out of my misery."
She tried to slap him, but he caught her hand in his and stared down into her eyes.
Artemis saw the hatred in Acheron's gaze, the scathing condemnation. Their angry breaths mingled and the air around them snapped furiously as their powers clashed.
But it wasn't his fury she wanted.
No, never his fury . . .
Her gaze drifted over him. Over the perfect sculpted planes of his face, his high cheekbones, his long, aquiline nose. The blackness of his hair.
The eerie mercury of his eyes.
There had never been a god or mortal born who could equal his physical perfection.
It wasn't just his beauty that drew people to him. It wasn't his beauty that drew her to him.
He possessed a raw, rare kind of masculine charisma. Power. Strength. Charm. Intelligence. Determination.
To look at him was to want him.
To see him was to ache to touch him.
He had been built to please, and trained to pleasure. Everything about him from the sleek muscles that rippled to the deep, erotic timbre in his voice seduced anyone who came into contact with him. Like a lethal wild animal, he moved with a primal promise of danger and masculine power. With the promise of supreme sexual fulfillment.
They were promises he delivered well on.
In all eternity, he was the only man who had made her weak. The only man she'd ever loved.
He had the power in him to kill her. They both knew it. And she found the fact that he didn't intriguing and provocative.