Tempted

Chapter 24

Isadora stood in the massive walk-in closet of her suite in the castle of Tiyrns with a towel wrapped around her body, staring at the clothes hanging from the rack.

Not a single pair of pants. No blouses. None of the modern items Casey had helped her gather weeks ago when she’d decided she wasn’t going to play the part of the cloistered princess any longer. All she saw were miles of crinoline, satin, chiffon, and silk. Dresses she’d thought she was done with forever.

Water droplets fell from her wet hair to drip onto her bare shoulders. Her stomach rolled all over again. She hitched the towel tighter as one expensive fabric bled into another.

She barely remembered the past two days. Callia had told her she’d blacked out when Zander brought her back. She’d slept straight through, her body so sick and worn out that it had needed the time to heal. But even after nearly twenty-four hours asleep, a platter full of food that hadn’t stayed down, and a fresh shower, Isadora didn’t feel healed. Or free. If anything, looking at the clothes in this closet, she felt more confined than she ever had before. Even on Pandora.

She grabbed the first dress her fingers touched, dropped the towel, and wriggled into the claustrophobic gown. She didn’t notice the color or style or anything about the garment. The only things she wanted were answers. And after everything she’d been through, she deserved them.

She zipped the back of the dress, finger-combed her short hair, then reached for the closest pair of shoes before turning out of the closet. And stopped when she came face-to-face with both of her sisters.

“I’d say she’s feeling better,” Callia said in that healer voice that set Isadora’s nerves on edge.

“Much,” Casey agreed with a smile that looked forced.

They were both dressed in slacks, Casey with a red fitted sweater and Callia with a blue button-down blouse. Both were close to the same height, with the same violet eyes and the same confident expressions. And both were studying her as if she were their latest laboratory experiment.

Isadora dropped the shoes and slid her feet into them. “Where is he?”

When neither sister answered, she looked up. Callia and Casey exchanged somber glances.

“What?” Isadora asked. “He is back, isn’t he? You told me Orpheus brought him back. I need to talk to him.”

“He’s not…” Callia started, then closed her mouth. “You can’t.”

“Why not?” When neither answered again, panic settled in. “Is he…?” Oh, gods. “Is he hurt?”

“He’s not hurt,” Callia said quickly, taking Isadora’s left hand. “He’s fine. Orpheus found him in the dark and flashed him outside the bunker walls. He was a little banged up from the fight with Atalanta, but these guys—they heal quickly with their superhero Argonaut genes, you know.” The healer tried to smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s lucky Orpheus was there, though. Anyone else…they wouldn’t have been able to get away.”

Isadora knew that. She owed Orpheus. In the hours since her rescue she’d learned that Theron and the others had defeated the daemons and that the ones who hadn’t been killed had scattered, just as she’d learned Atalanta was now gone as well. Where, no one seemed to know, but whatever Orpheus and Demetrius had done to the goddess down there in that bunker had given the Argonauts the chance they needed to win the battle.

Her gaze strayed to Casey and she noticed her sister still looked worried. Something was wrong. If Demetrius wasn’t hurt…

“What aren’t you both telling me?”

Casey took Isadora’s other hand. “Honey, I really think you should lie back down. You’re not back to one hundred percent yet and I don’t want—”

Isadora was so sick of everyone coddling her. It had to stop. Now.

She wrenched her hands free and took a step back. “No, you tell me what’s going on right now. Where is he? Did he leave?”

Casey looked to Callia again, and the pitying expression on her face only sent Isadora’s blood pressure higher. “He didn’t leave, Isa.”

“Then where is he?”

“He’s…”

“He’s in Erebus,” Callia finished when it was clear Casey didn’t want to go on.

Isadora looked from one sister to the next. “Erebus? The prison? But why?” She flexed her fingers, desperate for something to do. They still ached from where Demetrius had hurt her in Atalanta’s chamber, but she knew now he’d done that to trick the goddess so she wouldn’t suspect he’d turn on her. No matter what he’d done up until that point, no matter what his motives had been before, he’d saved her. “I don’t—”

“Between Gryphon’s testimony that Demetrius betrayed the Argonauts and what Theron found in his flat,” Casey said, “the Council’s charged him with treason.”

“Wait.” Isadora held up a hand. “Gryphon’s gone.”

“He was here. The guys found him after the daemons took you from the field. He told the others what happened outside the colony.”

Her mind flashed back to that moment when she’d stepped through the portal from Thrace Castle and realized they were surrounded by daemons. Demetrius had been shocked. She knew in her heart he hadn’t planned that any more than she had. “Gryphon was hurt. He wasn’t thinking clearly. I was there. Demetrius tried to save us. I don’t know what you’re talking about with regard to his flat, but—”

“He’s been planning your abduction for months, Isadora.” At Callia’s bombshell, Isadora swung her attention to her other sister. “He had pictures of you all over his flat. A telescope that looked over the rooftops into your suite. Drawings of you, maps of the castle. Isadora”—her voice softened—“he’s Atalanta’s son. You yourself told us he wasn’t what we all thought.”

Confusion welled in Isadora’s chest. “I know what I told you, but…my gods, we’re all related to someone we don’t want to be related to. Do I need to remind you both about the hideous things our own father has done?”

Casey sighed. “It’s more than that, Isa. His lineage and the evidence combined with his attitude are damning.”

“What do you mean, ‘his attitude’?”

“He’s not talking,” Callia answered. “When the king questioned him, when the Council questioned him. He won’t explain where you two were, how you ended up with Atalanta, or what happened while you were gone.”

Isadora glanced at her skirt. “Why wouldn’t he just tell them the truth? Why would he…?”

Color swirled before her eyes, and she saw herself standing in her closet, staring at a sea of gowns, each one more stifling than the last. She wasn’t that princess anymore. She wasn’t meek and timid and easily pushed around any longer. If the last week had taught her anything, it was that she was strong and confident and that she mattered. The gowns were nothing more than a facade.

You can’t save me.

Why not?

Because some things aren’t worth the effort.

Her chest grew tight. And in a rush she understood why Demetrius had been so cruel to her. For so many years he’d been trying to protect her from himself—because of who and what he thought he was. But he wasn’t like Atalanta. Yes, something dark lurked inside him, but it didn’t rule him. Even when he’d been surrounded by temptation of the most evil kind, he hadn’t given in to it to the point of no return. And now, to keep the Council and the king and the Argonauts from knowing what had truly happened between them on that island, he was reverting back to his old ways. Protecting her with the same I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-anyone pretense he’d always used.

“Ilithios,” she muttered, heat rising in her cheeks as she pushed past her sisters and headed toward the door. “It won’t work, you big jerk. Not this time.”

“Isadora?” Casey asked with worry in her normally confident voice. “Where are you going?”

“To Erebus.”

“He won’t see you,” Callia said quickly. “He won’t see anyone. We’ve already tried.”

“Oh, he’ll see me.” She grasped the door handle and pulled.

“How can you be so sure?” Casey asked.

“Because I know a secret the rest of you don’t. I’m his soul mate. And he can be an ass all he likes to everyone else, but not to me. Not anymore.”

Voices dragged Demetrius’s eyes open. He eased his head away from the cold stone wall where he’d been trying to sleep and peered toward the dark staircase that ran to the guard’s station one level up.

His cellblock was isolated in the bowels of Erebus where he couldn’t interact with any other prisoners. The bars were steel, the cot so damn uncomfortable he’d parked himself on the floor with his back against the wall and his knees drawn up while he tried to clear his mind.

It hadn’t worked. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Isadora’s face when she’d looked at him in Atalanta’s chamber. The fear, the disgust. But mostly the pain.

The voices picked up—some kind of commotion was happening at the guard’s station. Had the Council decided on his punishment already? It’d only been a few hours since he’d told them to fuck off. Since he fully expected to be executed at any moment, he’d have preferred that Orpheus hadn’t hauled his ass back here, but the end result was going to be the same, now, wasn’t it? At least Isadora would soon be free.

His heart clenched at the thought of her, but he ignored the feeling. Atalanta was gone—that was another plus—but she’d be back. He had no doubt the goddess would somehow find a way out of the Fields of Asphodel, where he and Orpheus had banished her by uniting their Medean powers. Ironic, really, that he’d fought his Medean heritage for so long and yet he’d needed it to defeat Atalanta. Ironic also that what he and Orpheus had done wasn’t all that different from what those witches had done to keep Apophis locked in Thrace Castle for thousands of years. He was still more than a little surprised Orpheus was part witch, but he didn’t have the strength or energy to care much about the ándras’s intentions now. The only question left burning his gray matter was whether Isadora was really pregnant or if that had been another of Atalanta’s lies.

The voices died off and footsteps echoed down the stone steps. He pushed up, careful to keep his hands behind him, palms flat against the cold stones at his back while he waited for his fate.

The guard came down first, but there was no executioner in his wake. What followed was a swish of powder blue silk that lightened the entire room and looked like a breath of fresh air in this dark dungeon. His throat closed as Isadora moved down the last step.

She wasn’t pale and dirty anymore. Dressed in the wide-collared light blue dress that showed off her dainty shoulders, she looked like the queen she would soon become. The bell sleeves made her hands appear that much more delicate. The nipped waist reminded him how he’d been able to span her rib cage with his hands. And the A-line skirt sent thoughts of the treasures hidden beneath rushing through his mind.

Her chocolate eyes fell on his, held. He didn’t move forward, just tried like crazy to still his pounding heart.

“Leave us,” she said to the guard.

“I…” The guard stiffened. “The king has ordered the prisoner not be left unattended in the presence of visitors.”

Isadora glared at the guard. “My father will be dead in a matter of weeks and I’ll be your new queen. If you don’t leave us now, I guarantee I will remember your name. And the consequences will be severe.”

“But the king made it clear—”

“Now,” Isadora said louder.

Unease rushed over the guard’s face, but he backed toward the stairs. “I…I’ll be right upstairs. If you need something…”

His voice trailed off as he scrambled up the steps. And in the silence that followed, Demetrius couldn’t help but be awed by Isadora’s strength. Gone was the timid princess he’d mocked for nearly two hundred years. In her place stood a gynaíka who was calm and collected and the only female in this world or the next who he had ever truly wanted.

She was the first to break the silence. “Do you have anything to say to me?”

Yes. A thousand things. Not a single one of which makes a difference now.

Fixing an impassive look on his face, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the wall.

“Fine,” she said. “Then I’ll go first. I know you didn’t plan to open the portal in that field outside the colony. But I want to know what happened there and how we got from that field to Pandora. I think you owe me that much at least.”

He did. He owed her so much more. But why would she think he hadn’t opened the portal to that field on purpose? His gaze shifted her way. Didn’t she know about his flat? About the pictures of her Theron had found there? About all the other evidence the Council had trumped up to prove he was the traitor they wanted?

“I was in Atalanta’s chamber before two days ago, wasn’t I?” she asked. “Her daemons captured us in that field. You didn’t turn me over to her. They took us to her stronghold, and when she saw us together she knew what you’ve known all along. That I’m your soul mate. And she saw an opportunity then to get what she really wanted. That’s how we got to Pandora. She banished us there so you’d be forced to protect me and we’d grow closer, and then she came back to claim her prize when she figured enough time had passed.”

Fury welled in his chest over the fact Isadora had been manipulated for the goddess’s cruel plans. But it was followed quickly by surprise that Isadora so easily saw through his lies and was pulling out a truth he didn’t want her to know. If she believed he was a bastard and that he’d used her for Atalanta’s gain, she could forget him when he was executed and move on with her life. But if she believed the truth…

He moved forward to grasp the bars of his cell and added just enough contempt to his voice to get his point across. “You live in a fantasy world, Princess.”

She stiffened but didn’t recoil as she would have in the past. “The most logical answer is usually the right one.”

“Not this time.” His gaze traveled the length of her body, a condescending sweep he’d used numerous times before to put her on edge. “But if it makes you feel better to pretend something so you can sleep at night, by all means go for it, Highness.”

He sneered the last word and knew it hit its mark when she narrowed her eyes. But she didn’t turn and leave in anger as he expected. Instead she stepped closer to the bars. The sweet scent of her rose up to make him light-headed.

“You can be an ass all you want, Demetrius, but it doesn’t work on me. Not anymore. And you can tell all the lies you want as well, but I know the truth. You never would have willingly turned me over to Atalanta.”

He scoffed, turned, and was about to push away from the bars when her delicate hands closed over his, warm and tempting and so alive they froze him in place.

“I love you,” she whispered.

His head jerked her way, and that heart she’d kick-started back on Pandora leaped to life in his chest. Even though…what was the point?

“I know exactly what you’re doing,” she said softly. “The same thing you’ve been doing my whole life. Trying to make me hate you so you can go on protecting me. Well, I’m not falling for it. And I don’t need you to protect me anymore. Do you think I care what the Council thinks? What my father thinks? All I care about is what’s right. Their condemning you for something you didn’t do is wrong, just as your protecting me from the Council’s archaic traditions is wrong. They’ll all learn I’m pregnant soon enough. If you won’t stand up and tell them the truth now, how am I supposed to do so later?”

No. Atalanta had been right. She really was pregnant with his…Gods. His stomach dropped.

“You…you have to get rid of it.”

She leveled him with a yeah-right look. “Nothing’s happening to this baby.”

Baby. She’d already given it a title. Panic pushed in. “Isadora, what lives in me will live in it.”

“Good.”

Good? Had she gone mad? “You don’t realize—”

“Do you honestly think I believe you’re like her? Demetrius, who we are is not a result of where we come from. It’s the combination of what we do and how we live that determines who we are. If I’m to condemn you simply because you’re related to her, then I might as well damn myself in the process. Every Argolean can link his or her heritage back to the gods. And I don’t care if it’s Zeus or Poseidon or Hades, each one is as cruel and self-serving as Atalanta in one way or another.”

His brow wrinkled as he looked down at her calm and perfect face. “You saw what lurks inside me. The black mist—”

“I saw it.” Her fingers tightened around his. “But I also saw that you didn’t give yourself over to it. Not completely. And as long as I’m here, I won’t let you. Hera picked a pretty damn good soul mate for you, because I have the power of balance within me, thanks to my link to the Horae. And I gave it to you. Let me be your balance, Demetrius.”

She had. In Atalanta’s chamber, he’d felt the energy and power rushing from her hands into his, and it had been enough balance to keep the darkness in check.

Was it possible she could love him, even knowing who and what he really was?

He looked down at her stomach, hidden behind the powder blue silk of her gown. “That thing inside you—”

“Baby,” she corrected. “Our baby. Conceived in love, even if you didn’t like the fact I tied you up.”

His gaze shot back to her face. And heat stirred in his groin at the memory. He’d loved what she’d done to him that night with her little spell. Loved every moment of it and only wanted more. “How can you be so confident when everyone else knows I’m the enemy?”

“Because I know you and those fools don’t.” When he frowned, she added, “Don’t you see? The humanity you scoff at is what sets you apart from Atalanta. All I have to do is think about the things you’ve done for me—like not telling the Council the truth today because you don’t want them to punish me—and I realize how heroic you are. I might not agree with your tactics, but I understand them. And knowing you’re doing all this to protect me? It only makes me love you that much more.”

He could barely breathe. She loved him. Really loved him. Even knowing the truth.

She moved closer to the bars, until her heat was all he felt. “I felt the connection we shared when we made love. I felt it every time you kissed me on that island. I feel it now, in the bars between us. You’ve been protecting me from yourself for years, but you don’t have to anymore. I didn’t come down here because I needed confirmation of your innocence, Demetrius. I already know that truth. I came down here because I need to know you didn’t do all this just because some twisted sense of fate says I’m your soul mate. I need to know you really love me too.”

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the bars even as her love wrapped around him like a warm caress. She was asking for the impossible. For something that didn’t even matter anymore. The truth would only prolong her pain after he was gone.

“Promise me you’ll get rid of that thing inside you.”

“Not even close.”

His eyes squeezed tighter. “Then at least give it away.”

“It’s not an it. And he stays. Tell me the truth, Demetrius.”

“You could bind yourself to one of the other guardians.” He glanced at her. The look in her eyes said, Not in a million years.

“The truth, Demetrius.”

Gods, she was so stubborn. A major pain in his ass. She always had been, right from the start. “I can’t.”

She eased up on her toes until her sweet breath brushed the side of his face, until his heart squeezed so tight it was hard to get air. “You can. It’s easy. All you have to say is ‘I love you.’ Listen,” she said softly, her breath tickling his cheek, her words warming the cold space left in his chest. “I love you. I love you. I love…you.”

“Isadora…”

Voices brought his head up. The ruckus grew louder and footsteps pounded the stairs. Isadora turned just as three guards appeared from the dark tunnel.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded. “I left instructions we were not to be disturbed.”

The tallest guard moved forward and grasped her by the arm. “The prisoner’s to be moved to the Argolion to face sentencing.”

Oh, shit.

“What?” Isadora refused to let go of Demetrius’s hands. “He’s yet to stand trial.”

“The Council, upon the king’s request, voted unanimously moments ago to convict him of high treason. We have orders, Princess. Let go of the bars.”

Isadora’s shocked face shifted back to Demetrius. She knew, just as he did, what the charge of high treason entailed. There was no such thing as a “sentencing” in this case.

“No,” Isadora whispered. Then louder, “No. I won’t let this happen. You tell the Council they—”

The tallest guard lifted her around the waist and jerked back hard until she was forced to release the bars. “I said let go, Princess!”

Things happened so fast, Demetrius barely tracked them. All he knew was the guard had a death grip on Isadora, she was struggling in his arms, screaming for him to release her, and he was hurting her. The black mist swirled in his chest and pushed forward, turning his vision to a dark hazy red. When the closest guard unlocked the cell door and the second moved to cuff him, he charged, knocking them both to the ground before going straight for the third. “Let go of her!”

He got in one good punch before the other two were on him. Isadora screamed. Voices rang in the air. A club nailed him in the small of his back, sending blinding pain to his skull. Another hit him behind both knees, forcing him to the ground.

“Get down, you son of a bitch!”

“Get her back!”

“Stop! You’re hurting him!”

Blow after blow hit him from all sides, until his vision swam and stars exploded behind his eyes. Someone wrenched his arms at his back and slapped cuffs on his wrists. Another guard shoved his battered face into the cold, dirty stones. Behind him, he heard crying.

“Please stop!”

Isadora. His Isadora. This was the last time he was going to see her. He couldn’t let this be her last memory of him. He’d already taken everything else from her.

The guards hauled him to his feet. “Get up, maggot.”

The room spun. Warm sticky wetness slid down his cheek. He tasted the coppery tang of blood. He stumbled but the guards caught him. “Kardia,” he rasped.

“I’m right here,” Isadora answered.

He swung his gaze to the right and zeroed in on her broken voice, on the pale halo of blond around her head that made her look like an angel, on her perfect face that was, even now, fading in and out of focus. “You were right. You’ve always been right. About me, about everything. I only wanted to save you from this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of it.”

The guard shoved him hard in the back. He stumbled forward. “No one cares, maggot.”

“Demetrius—”

“I love you, kardia,” he said louder as the guard shoved him up the first step. He twisted around to look at her. “You have my heart. You always have. Just you. Just you, Isadora.”

As they dragged him away, his last image was of her standing between both her sisters with tears streaming down her cheeks.