Enslaved: Eternal Guardians series

“It is your job to know all.” She looked back to Naberus. “Who is she?”

 

 

Naberus shot a wicked smile Stolas’s way, then looked toward Atalanta. “Zeus and Persephone’s daughter. She goes by Maelea. The one who led the Argonauts to the Underworld to free your doulas in the first place. Sources confirmed this to me.”

 

Fire rushed through Atalanta’s veins. “What sources?”

 

Naberus shrugged. “Hellhounds I tortured.”

 

Fury raged through Atalanta. She flew down the steps.

 

Naberus didn’t move, but Stolas lurched backward and held up his hands. “My queen! Hellhounds lie. We’re not sure it’s her.”

 

She grasped his sword by the hilt, pulled it out of its scabbard, and stabbed him straight through the heart.

 

His eyes flew wide. He dropped to his knees at her feet. She pulled the blade free, arced back and decapitated the useless beast. His body slumped forward.

 

Looking toward Naberus, Atalanta barked, “Kneel. Quickly.”

 

Naberus did so without even an inkling of fear.

 

Atalanta tapped the sword against his shoulder and uttered the magical words that infused him with her powers as archdaemon. When she was done and he pushed to his feet, he’d grown at least a foot. And something in the way his glowing green eyes sparked hit her square in the center of the chest.

 

Slowly, still trying to figure out who he was, she handed him the sword. “Find her and you will find my doulas. And do it quickly. Or you will be my next victim.”

 

Naberus bowed with a sinister grin. “As you wish, my queen.”

 

***

 

The door slamming brought Max’s eyes open.

 

As footsteps echoed down the hall, he lay on his stomach in the dark of his bedroom, listening carefully. He’d been home in Tiyrns for several days. His dad came and went, as always, and his mom…she was freaking out, worried about what was happening in the human realm at the Misos colony. But because of him, she wouldn’t go back. Because his dad had ordered her to take him home.

 

Anger simmered under his skin. He wasn’t a baby. He didn’t need to be protected like one.

 

The door to his room creaked open. He slammed his eyes shut and lay still as stone, trying not to move a single muscle so they wouldn’t know he was awake.

 

“Zander,” his mother whispered from the doorway. “He’s asleep.”

 

Silence met his ears. He knew his parents were watching him. They were always watching, checking up on him. They didn’t trust him.

 

“Come on,” Callia whispered. “Let him sleep.”

 

The door creaked closed, but when he peeked, he saw they hadn’t closed it all the way. Light from the hall spilled into the room from a crack.

 

“Any luck finding Gryphon?” his mother asked in a low voice.

 

They’d moved away from his door, but Max could still hear them. And because they were talking about Gryphon, he listened closer.

 

“No, none,” Zander answered in a frustrated voice. “It’s like they all but disappeared.”

 

“He’ll turn up,” Callia said softly.

 

“When?” Zander asked. “He’s not stable, thea. Whatever the hell they did to him in the Underworld changed him. Every time I think about Max being there…”

 

“Max is fine,” his mother said.

 

“He’s not fine,” Zander tossed back, louder this time. When Callia shushed him, he lowered his voice. “He’s not fine and we both know it. Every day he grows more defiant. I can’t even talk to him anymore, and he’s angry all the time.”

 

“He’s struggling, Zander. We knew the transition wouldn’t be easy. We have to give him time.”

 

“And what if time doesn’t work? What if he gets worse? What if he ends up like Gryphon?”

 

“He won’t.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because I do,” his mother said firmly. “Don’t even think that, Zander.”

 

Silence echoed like a hollow vat of nothingness from the hall, and Max’s heart rate shot up as he strained to listen.

 

“I never wanted this,” his father finally whispered from the hallway. “It’s not supposed to be this way.”

 

“I know,” his mother whispered back. Cloth rustled, and even without seeing them, Max knew they were hugging. His dad was always touching his mom one way or another. But not him. The only time his dad touched him was when he was mad, the way he’d been when he found Max in the tunnels of the colony. “We’ll make it work, Zander. Believe in that. Believe in us.”

 

A heavy sigh, followed by footsteps echoing down the hall, told Max his parents had finally moved away.

 

But in the darkness of his room, his heart rate didn’t slow. I never wanted this. The words echoed in his head. Along with the ones his father hadn’t said: I never wanted him.