And speaking of strong women …
“What is this?” Xanthia materialized so fast by his side that she almost bonded their DNA together. One more heartbeat or step and she would have caused a tragic biological mistake.
“What is what?” he asked drolly.
“A new wife?” she shrieked. “Did I hear that correctly? You’re planning to marry someone else?”
Praise Apollymi for their small community. Bad news traveled so much faster than the good.
Sighing, Urian decided it was probably time he introduced the two women. “Xanthia, meet Bethsheba.”
“The hades to Kalosis I will!” She shoved Bethsheba back. “You lay one fang to my husband and you will find yourself toothless and bald, bitch!”
Urian quirked a brow at Bethsheba. “What was that you were saying about weak women?”
Xanthia turned toward him with the wrath of the Furies in her eyes. “You don’t speak. Maybe never again!”
Strangely pissed and amused by that comment, he held his hands up and decided to stay out of this particular fight since it wasn’t one he wanted to be in to begin with. “Aye, my love.”
Out of nowhere, Paris appeared at his back and draped himself against Urian’s spine. He wrapped his arm around his neck and rested his chin on Urian’s bare shoulder. “This looks quite interesting and entertaining. What have you gotten yourself into now, brother?”
“Not sure.”
Bethsheba shoved Xanthia back. “Don’t you ever dare touch me again without invitation.”
“And don’t you even think of touching my husband’s loins.”
Bethsheba sneered at her. “You hardly seem fit for a champion’s wife. What hole did he dredge you from to elevate you to such a grand status?”
Shrieking, Xanthia lunged forward, but Urian extracted himself from his brother and caught her before she could attack the warrior queen who would tear her to shreds. While he admired his wife’s fire, he wasn’t a fool. He’d given Xanthia basic training and nothing more. She’d never really cared for fighting and wasn’t any kind of challenge to a warrior of Bethsheba’s skills. And though he was presently furious at his wife and wanted to beat her himself for her unwarranted condemnation of him, she was still his wife and he wouldn’t have her harmed for anything. He’d sworn his loyalty and troth to her and no matter how much of a monster she might think him, he was at least an honorable monster.
“Let me go!” Xanthia screamed, kicked, and pinched.
Urian ground his teeth against the pain. “Calm down.” He regretted those words as soon as they passed his lips. How could he have forgotten that the worst thing to ever say to anyone when they were furious was to calm down?
Invariably, it only pissed them off more.
First lesson he’d learned as a boy when dealing with Archie and Theo. He still had the scar on his left cheek from one of those blatant acts of stupidity.
Bethsheba had the gall to laugh. “You do have your hands full with that shrew.”
And that got him one massive heel kick to his thigh. Urian grimaced.
“Do you mind not antagonizing her further?”
Xanthia slammed her head back into his nose.
Urian felt it break instantly. Sonofabitch! He almost lost his grip on her as the pain of it split his skull and his eyes watered in protest.
“Enough!” His father’s shout finally succeeded in calming his wife down. While she might not fear him, she had a healthy respect for the fact that his father held no love or loyalty to her and wouldn’t hesitate to rip out her heart to feast on it.
Urian set her down on her feet so that he could wipe away the blood that was pouring from his nose.
His father’s eyes widened in fury the moment he caught sight of his injury.
Xanthia shrank back to stand behind him.
Yeah, wasn’t this perfect? Now she liked him again. She even clutched at his chalmys for protection.
He passed an irritated grimace at her.
“Are you all right?” his father asked in a concerned tone.
Urian had a moment when he considered telling his father the truth—that his nose felt like shit and that he was done with Xanthia’s theatrics. But sadly, her children loved her, and he loved her children. “I’m fine, Solren.”
Still, his father’s gaze narrowed threateningly on Xanthia. “Go home. Now.”
She ran off.
Bethsheba walked toward Urian with a sassy, seductive swagger. She pulled out a piece of soft deerskin cloth so that she could tenderly blot and care for his nose. And as much as he hated to admit it, his body did react to the gentle warmth of her fingers cupping his chin. Especially the way she traced his lower lip with her thumb to soothe the throbbing where Xanthia had busted the center of it. “Your wife should appreciate the care you have for her well-being. And the fact that you saved her life.”
“I don’t blame her for her fury. She’s a good woman. I’m an average husband.” Whatever problems they might have, Urian wasn’t about to see her reputation tarnished or her character abused by anyone.
Bethsheba snorted at that. “You’ve raised a remarkable son, Strykerius.”
“I know.”
Stepping back, Bethsheba removed a tribal emblem necklace that was nestled snugly between her breasts. “For that reason, I shall leave you in peace, good Urian. When you come to your senses and realize that your shrew is unworthy of a man of your caliber, call us. So long as I reign, the Marzanni are forever allies to the Apollymians.”
She leaned forward to kiss Urian’s cheek and to whisper in his ear. “When you’re ready to ride a real woman, my thighs will be wet and open for you.”
If those words weren’t enough to make him salivate, the sound of her ragged breath and the scent of her blood mixed with his were almost enough to make him grab her right then and embarrass them both. It was all he could do to not accept her invitation on the spot.
Because the truth was, he hadn’t been with anyone in days. He’d been starving since his wife had insulted him and he was dying for something to eat.
And after the fight with Xyn, he was hornier than hell. He’d been without any form of compassion or care. He felt so lost and alone.
Adrift. Honestly, he just wanted to feel welcomed somewhere. By someone.
As if she knew his thoughts, she gave him a hot, hungry kiss that left him hard and aching with longing. She ran her tongue across the cut on his bottom lip. “Just put a drop of your blood on the amulet and call my name. I’ll hear you and come instantly.”
With a wistful sigh, she stepped back and inclined her head to his father. “Take care, Strykerius. May we meet again one night.”
“Indeed.” His father opened the portal for them so that they could take their leave.
Urian didn’t move or speak until after they were gone.
Not until his father approached him and took the deerskin cloth from his hand. “You’re a royal fucking idiot. I can’t believe you came from my loins.”
“I know.”
With a disgusted sigh, his father shook his head. “How long have you been sleeping at Tannis’s home?”
Urian let out a ragged sigh before he confessed the truth. “Three days.”
“Have you fed?”
“Not really. Tanny’s tried to feed me some of her blood in a cup, but I haven’t felt like taking any of it.”
His father grabbed his arm where he had fresh bite marks. “Yet you’ve been feeding your children.” There was no missing the angry condemnation in that tone. “You know you can’t keep feeding them if you’re not taking anything for yourself.”
Urian knew. It was the quickest way to make an Apollite sick. And it could give them a rare disease that would kill them.
“I’m only feeding Geras. He won’t go to sleep unless I rock him. He only takes a little right before he drifts off.”
A tic started in his father’s jaw. “You coddle that boy. He’s getting too old for that kind of foolishness.”
“Just looking out for my son, as my solren taught me to do.”
Disgusted, his father flung his arm away. “The difference being that I am your solren.”