Medea countered and sent one of her own. “C’mon. That all you got?”
They attacked en masse and quickly learned why she was the leader of her father’s army, as Medea unleashed eleven thousand years of pent-up Daimon fury on them. One thing about the Spathi, they didn’t hold back.
And they didn’t flinch. Forget the Spartans. The Spathi Daimons were the warriors who could make King Leonidas wet his pteruges.
But that wasn’t the only reason she fought. In the back of her mind was the past, when they’d come for Praxis and Evander.
That night, she hadn’t fought at all. Untrained and passive, she’d been helpless before the humans as they slaughtered her husband and son. Back then, she’d told herself that it was more noble to do as the gods decreed and accept her fate, whatever it was.
To be dutiful. To submit docilely, like a good citizen.
The nail that stood out was hammered down.
Evander had believed it, too. So they had followed the rules and done what they were supposed to. They’d never made noise. Never bothered anyone.
Never harmed another living soul.
It hadn’t mattered. Her loyalty had been returned to her with treachery, betrayal, and blood.
Her kindness shoved down her throat. Those she counted as friends had been the first to turn against her and cast her to the wolves. Not a one had spoken up in her defense.
Not a single act of charity remembered. No. They hadn’t returned to her the respect she’d shown them. Or the regard. Rather, everyone she’d ever helped had abandoned her as if she’d never done anything for them.
Cold-hearted, selfish fucking bastards!
For that bitterest lesson, she’d hated them all.
And that night she’d learned her most vital piece. To thine own self be true. Not just with honesty, but with charity first. For no one else would ever stand up for her when it mattered most.
In the end, you come into this world alone.
Alone you will leave it.
Feet first.
She’d entered this world fighting, with someone else’s blood on her fists, and that was exactly how she intended to go out.
Grinding her teeth, she caught the largest Adoni warrior a punch to the jaw that sent the giant bastard reeling.
Then, turning, she flipped the next one from his feet and delivered a punch to his throat. Her ears buzzed from the rush of blood. Fury coursed through every part of her as it demanded more and more of their life force.
The beast in her was awake and it was starving.
They surrounded her. Outnumbered her. There was no way she’d survive them all. She knew that beyond a doubt.
She didn’t care.
War wasn’t always about survival for yourself. It was about protecting what you loved. Preserving those you held sacred so that they could carry on after you. Making sure they had a future. And if that meant sacrificing your own for theirs, so be it.
One life for the many.
Medea felt a piercing pain in her side.
And still fought. Even though the pain threatened to send her to her knees, she refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her fall. Her mother had raised her better than that.
Suddenly, someone grabbed her from behind.
With a vicious hiss, she moved to clobber her attacker, then froze as she caught sight of the most insanely gorgeous man in any world.
“Falcyn.” His name was a prayer on her lips.
“You had to know I wouldn’t leave you behind.” He cradled her to his chest and ducked so that Shadow and Blaise could cover their retreat.
Tears filled her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
Morgen let out a fierce shriek.
Falcyn turned on her and fire-blasted her. Then he took Medea back to his cavern, where Maddor quickly joined them. He laid her down on his bed so that he could inspect the wound in her side. “I can’t leave you alone for five seconds, can I?”
“It was more than five seconds, dragonfly. Do I need to buy you a watch?” She hissed and slapped at his hand as he touched a tender place.
“Oh! Hey!”
“That hurt!”
“Yeah, I know.” He shook his hand.
Scowling at him, she fished his dragonstone from her bra and returned it to him. “Don’t even start with me.”
His jaw went slack. “How did you manage to get it back?”
“Ain’t no bitch going to handle my man’s rocks while I’m around. Really?”
Maddor’s eyes bugged at her words. “I’m going to wait outside.”
Falcyn laughed, then kissed her.
Medea sighed as she felt the heat of his kiss flow all the way through her body. More than that, she felt the warmth of his stone knitting her wound closed and healing her.
Completely.
And when he pulled back, she cupped his face and realized that Brogan had been right. She did have a future with him after all.
“So tell me, dragonfly. Where do a dragon and a Daimon make their home?”
“Simple, Lady Spathi. Wherever it is that they want. Whatever it is they want.”
EPILOGUE
Medea had been dreading this moment for days. But it was something that had to be done and something that she didn’t want Urian to discover on his own. Better the news come from someone he loved than to be dumped on him by accident.
And how she’d allowed Falcyn to talk her into doing this in Acheron’s palace on Katateros, she had no idea.
She definitely loved the beast. Only that could account for this level of insanity.
But in the end, he was right. It was better that Urian be comfortable and surrounded by family when he learned the truth than to be blindsided and surrounded by strangers. That wouldn’t bode well for anyone.
Still …
This was nerve-wracking. The huge marble palace was awe inspiring, as one would expect the home of ancient gods to be. It was built to impress, and she was definitely not immune to its austerity.
Acheron’s throne was set off to her right on a massive dais where several small little dragon-like creatures were currently curled around and napping with Acheron’s two toddler sons. The way the creatures were entwined, she wasn’t even sure how many of them there were.
Simi and her Charonte sister were on the floor to her left, watching some shopping network channel on a massively huge monitor that was mounted to the wall. Completely content, they were eating barbecue-drenched popcorn out of a bowl they shared that was perched between them while Acheron’s steward, Alexion, and his wife, Danger, kept it filled to capacity.
Acheron’s twin brother, Styxx, met her and Falcyn in the doorway. At almost seven feet in height, he was an impressively handsome beast. Dressed in a casual blue button-down shirt and jeans, he was a far cry from Ash’s preferred Goth style. “Yeah, we know. But it keeps them out of trouble and stops them from putting horns on the babies’ heads.”
Medea laughed as she saw that Styxx’s wife, Bethany, was holding their youngest son in her arms and cooing to the toddler. “So this is the little Aricles I keep hearing about from big brother Urian.”