Such a sweet voice, with hints of smoke and cloud.
Scarlet offered him a watery smile. "I love you." The very words she'd yearned to say for so long. "No matter what happens, Steel, I love you. I've always loved you and always will. I didn't give you up, my darling. You were taken from me." Choked now.
"Yes, she's your mother. Yes, you were taken from her," Zeus confirmed as the teen turned to him in stunned confusion. "You may offer your thanks now."
Steel's shock gave way to horror, liquid red bleeding into his azure irises. He was the reason she was chained, after all. Thinking she was an enemy to the crown, he'd led Zeus straight to her. "Mother," he said again, and this time, there was pain in that beloved voice. "I—I—"
"Don't blame yourself, sweet boy. You are everything I wanted you to be. Strong. Lovely. Intelligent. You did exactly as I would've done had the situation been reversed. I love you so much." She couldn't speak quickly enough, knowing that at any moment—
"Enough," Zeus barked, just as she'd feared. "I asked a question and desire an answer. So which is it to be, Steel? Will her death be delivered by my hand or yours?"
"I—I don't want you to kill her." Steel's watery gaze drank her in greedily, as if he were memorizing every little thing about her. "And I do not wish to kill her, either. Let her live. Please." His plea mirrored all the ones she'd given before.
Scarlet fought with every ounce of strength she possessed. She had to reach him. Couldn't bear to see him pained. "I'll be fine, darling. Let him do it. It's fine, I swear to you." She would rather die herself than allow a single scratch to befall Steel.
"I will not be merciful," Zeus said.
"I don't care," Scarlet told them both. Better she suffer now than Steel suffer in the coming centuries because he'd murdered her.
Silence. Terrible, terrible silence. But then, something far worse. "Kill me instead," Steel said. "I am nothing. No one."
"No!" Scarlet screamed.
But Zeus nodded, stroked his jaw and ignored her, focusing on her son. "You're right. She's much too valuable to dispose of. As the bastard daughter of Rhea, she is an embarrassment to Cronus and thus a priceless weapon to wield against him should the need arise."
She calmed. A chance. Hope. Zeus considered her a tool to be used against his enemies.
"Still. She must be punished for her actions. Whatever shall I do, then?" he asked, seeming genuinely pensive.
Hope dwindling... "Send Steel away," she pleaded. "That will punish me. I'll wonder where he is and what's happening to him. Please. Please. Nothing would hurt me more than that. You know this is true."
Slowly Zeus grinned. He nodded. "An excellent plan. I'll send him elsewhere."
Hope renewed, flooding her. "Thank you." Her shoulders sagged, her breath emerging shallowly. Her son would be safe. He would live. He would grow into the man he was meant to be. "Thank you so much, great king." Thanks continued to pour from her lips. She was babbling, she knew she was, but couldn't stop. "Thank you."
But she'd spoken too soon.
"I'll send him to the afterlife," the god added, at last silencing her. "As I originally planned."
As he'd always planned, she realized. He'd never considered letting the boy go, had only been toying with her.
Steel's eyes widened. In fear, in regret, then fixed on hers in resolve. "I'm sorry. Mother."
Scarlet screamed, the force shaking the temple, shattering her own eardrums. "No! No!"
"Yes." With no hesitation, Zeus raised the blade and struck.
GIDEON AWOKE with a roar and bolted upright. Tears were streaming down his cheeks in streams of acid. With a shaky hand, he reached up and wiped them away. Dear gods. He'd just seen Zeus slit his son's throat. He'd felt Scarlet's pain and helplessness. Her desperation.
That's how it had happened, he knew it was. Scarlet had shown him. He'd sensed her in the dream. Her sweet scent, the intensity of her emotions. She truly would have done anything to save that boy. Anything. That's how much she'd loved him. And she'd had to recover from his loss alone.
Gideon wouldn't have been able to do so. He was barely holding himself together now, and he still couldn't remember the boy. That beautiful boy. How strong Scarlet was. How resourceful. She was a survivor to the marrow of her bones.
His respect for her doubled. His desire for her tripled.
She deserved to be pampered. She deserved to be fought for as the prize she was. So pamper her he would. Fight for her he would. He couldn't make up for the past, but he could give her a better future.
Lock her away again? Never! He'd been a fucking idiot to think otherwise. Dangerous or not, she was his. He would kill anyone, even his friends, if they threatened her.
He'd have to find her, though. A difficult task, surely, considering she wouldn't want to see him. And—
His gaze had been circling the bedroom, ensuring no enemies lurked nearby, a habit ingrained from centuries of war. Now he stopped abruptly.
Scarlet. Here. Sleeping. Surreal.
She was cuddled up beside him, her legs straight, one hand flattened over her heart, the other draped over her forehead. That mass of silky black hair was splayed around her shoulders, gleaming like polished ebony. She was a feminine feast, made to love and be loved.
He reached out, realized his shaking had increased—damned truth-telling weakness—and caressed a fingertip down her nose before his muscles gave out and his arm flopped uselessly at his side. Need to touch her. Always.
For the moment, he would have to be satisfied with the knowledge that she was here. How? Why? Did it matter? She was here! They could talk, and he could begin that pampering. Foot massages every day, her enemies' heads delivered to her doorstep like the morning paper.
Come on, baby. Wake up. Through the windowed doors that led to a balcony, he could see that the sun was muted and falling, darkening. That pampering could begin sooner rather than later. Any moment now and Scarlet would—
Her eyelids popped open and she bolted upright just as he had done. Her head slammed into his chin, and he winced.
As she rubbed the point of contact, their gazes met. Her eyes...so dark, so mysterious. So filled with pain and hope and regret. A treasure as priceless as this woman should only ever look satisfied.
She licked her lips and slowly eased back onto the mattress, twisting to her side to face him. Her mouth floundered open and closed for a moment, as if she were searching for the right words to say. He didn't want her to bring up the dream. Not yet. That was a heavy subject and right now they both needed to relax. Or rather, he needed to comfort her as he hadn't done before.
"So, who aren't you today?" he asked, lying down so that they were eye to eye.
There was a flicker of relief on her face. "Scarlet...Long," she replied.
Long. As in Justin. A man with black hair and brown eyes. Gideon almost smiled. Sweet progress. Hopefully, she'd never pick a blond again. And one day, maybe she'd even call herself Scarlet Lord.
Did he want that? Yes, he did, he realized almost immediately. He liked the thought of this woman belonging to him. Truly belonging to him in a way that all the world would recognize.
"How are you feeling?" she asked softly.
"Worse."
A lengthy breath escaped her. "Good. That's good."
With the last of his strength, he settled his arm over the curve of her waist. She didn't rebuke him for so intimate a gesture, and he took heart. "When I'm even worse, I don't want to hit Cronus's bedroom." He needed to get his hands on a slave collar. That way, the doors to Tartarus would open right up for him. Those collars were like keys to the gate. To get in, that is. Getting out would be a different matter entirely. "But damn. I've got my necklace, so I can roam freely." Without it, Cronus would know where he was and what he was doing. The god king could stop him and send him back to Buda before he set a single foot in the prison realm.