She chuckled and fell beside him, snuggling into his side. “Cronus won’t find out, I promise. So if you want to return to me…”
He remained silent. He couldn’t sleep with her again. His demon wouldn’t let him. Even if he spent hours kissing and touching her, his cock would remain flaccid and useless. Always did around anyone he’d already bedded, and really, Paris wouldn’t have wanted a repeat, anyway. He felt guilty enough, sleeping with anyone other than Sienna.
He’d had her and he could have her again. He could get hard just thinking about her. Which was why everyone he’d nailed after her was like a slap in her beautiful face. Like she wasn’t good enough for him. Like she couldn’t satisfy him. But he couldn’t save her if he died and he really would die if he remained celibate.
Plus, he felt guilty for another reason. These lovers of his…they didn’t want him, not really. If not for his demon, they might not have ever slept with him, might have turned him down flat, found him unattractive, whatever. So, in a way, he was forcing them to be with him.
As always, his mind cringed away from the thought.
“What’s wrong?” Arca asked. “You tensed up.”
He forced himself to relax and rubbed her arm up and down, a gentle caress. “Earlier I mentioned a woman. A slave, killed and in soul form, and now possessed by a demon. Wrath. Her soul is invisible to the naked eye.” He tried not to reveal his own sense of desperation. “Do you know of whom I speak?”
She twirled a braid around one of her fingers. “Yes. I remember. You want to know where Cronus is keeping her.”
Easy, steady. “Do you know the answer?”
“I haven’t heard anything, no.”
He closed his eyes, fighting a rush of disappointment and regret. He’d thought…he’d hoped…he’d been so sure…
“But,” she went on, “I do know where he kept prisoners he couldn’t control, people he didn’t want anyone to find, before his imprisonment in Tartarus.”
“Tell me.” The words rang out with more force than he’d intended.
“I’ll do better than that.” Her arms tightened around him, and she trembled. “I’ll show you.”
His stomach churned. Can’t alienate her. “You know that isn’t possible, sweetheart,” he croaked. “You have to stay here.”
“But…” She sat up again, expression tight as her braids fell around them, framing them. “Please. I have to leave. I can’t stay here any longer. I hate it, and I’m slowly going insane. Please.”
He cupped her cheeks, trying to be gentle. “Tell me where to find this secret place and once my mission is done, I’ll come back for you. I’ll find a way to save you.”
Tears pooled in her eyes. “That could take forever. You could die.”
“I know and I’m sorry, but that’s all I can offer.” He couldn’t save her now. He couldn’t try and free her now. That would alert Cronus. The god king would come gunning for him and Sienna would be lost to him forever.
If Paris lost his head, if that was his destiny, he first wanted to move Sienna somewhere safe. She’d died because of him. She’d been paired with a demon because of him. Because he’d brought her to the god king’s attention. Paris owed her.
“I could aid you,” Arca said. “Not just find the place for you, but help you navigate the secret corridors.”
“I know, sweetheart, but that doesn’t change my mind.”
“Please…”
He didn’t tell her that feminine pleas held little sway with him. How many had begged him to remain in bed with them? How many had cried as he walked away? “I’m sorry, but this is the best I can offer.”
And if she wouldn’t tell him what he wanted to know, if she continued to refuse him, he would hurt her. Hurt…kill…anyone who got in his way. Anyone. He’d come so far. She wouldn’t stop him from going further.
For a long while, she sobbed silently. Then she bucked up on her own, squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, the stubborn expression reminding him of Kaia.
How was Strider handling the female determined to bring him to his knees? Either the possessive warrior was fighting his attraction or he’d finally given into it—otherwise he would have been here, right beside Paris, meeting the terms of their “challenge.”
“Do you swear you’ll come back for me after you find her?” Arca asked.
“Yes. I swear. When she’s truly safe, I will come.” The moment he spoke the words, he was bound to them. He knew it, felt the strength of the ties. To break your word to a god or goddess was to suffer eternally. If you survived.
She wiped at her tears. “All right. I’ll tell you what you wish to know. If Cronus has remained true to his old ways, and believe me, I know that he has, you will find your woman in one of two places. If she’s in the first, she’s lost to you forever. If she’s in the second, and you venture there, you won’t emerge unscathed.”
Sienna was not in the first and that was that. “The name of the second place?”
As the words left her lips, his blood chilled. Breath abandoned him. He’d known Cronus would punish her for running to Paris, but he hadn’t known the god king planned to torture her eternally.
Paris unfolded himself from the bed and dressed as swiftly as possible.
“Will you still go after her?” Arca asked.
“Yes,” he replied without a moment of hesitation. He was more determined now than ever.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KICKED OUT OF HEAVEN and straight into hell, Kaia thought darkly. Or rather, her version of hell. And she hadn’t even gotten to enjoy her afterglow!
A campfire crackled in front of her, orange flames twined with blue. Heat licked over her. She’d never truly cooled down after making love with Strider—remembering, a shiver slid the length of her spine and she had to cut off a moan—and she was glad. She liked the heat. Mostly because of the lingering hum of satisfaction her…consort had provided.
Consort.
Currently Strider was “scouting the area for Hunters.” Didn’t take two hours to scout a small stretch of land. He was looking for the Paring Rod, no question. He wouldn’t find it. Not here. Juliette wasn’t foolish enough to hide the thing under her makeshift mattress.
So badly Kaia had wanted him to acknowledge the link between them. So badly she’d wanted to touch and taste him. Wanted to be touched and tasted by him. That she had, that he had…gods, she was now scared to death. Because…
He loved her. That still shocked her. They were a couple. A real couple. He would have her back, and she would have his. More than that, he came first now. That’s just how it had to be. Whether he was being a pain in the ass or a romantic mattress god, he was hers. She had to protect him. Had to see to his future. And bottom line? He wanted, needed, the Paring Rod. Needed it to survive.
Therefore, she had to get it for him.
Right now her team was on the road to acquiring the artifact fair and square. But what if that changed? Juliette would then expect Kaia to make a play for it and the odds of actually getting her hands on it would cease to lean in her favor.
Therefore, there was no better time to strike.
Of course, that would take Kaia out of the competition and prove once and for all that she was unworthy, weak, but better her pride suffered than Strider died. She couldn’t live without him. She needed his blood, yes, but she also needed him. His smile, his laughter, his wit, his strength.
So, no contest and no more thought necessary. She would steal the Rod. Boom, done. She wouldn’t involve her sisters, though. She wouldn’t risk their lives. Not again. Especially now, when they were injured from the second game.
Had to happen tonight, she thought, her hands fisting. Most everyone would be intoxicated, healing or passed out. She’d make love to Strider—if he wanted and he had better want—and let the heat fill her once again. That heat energized her, a combination of lust and rage that swirled inside her, wanting so badly to escape. To consume.