Bound

Chapter Twenty-One

“I already told you,” Prometheus insisted again as they flashed to the riverbank outside Calypso’s cottage. “Death is in the hands of the Fates. Not the gods.”

Fuck the Fates. Where were the Fates when Titus had needed them? Nowhere. They’d appeared to the other guardians when their lives had been in turmoil, but not to him. Probably because they were the ones who’d screwed him over to begin with.

He tamped down the resentment and focused on the only thing that mattered: Natasa. Grinding his teeth, he nodded toward the small house. “Go.”

From somewhere inside, a scream echoed. Prometheus’s eyes widened.

Titus bolted for the door.

Natasa lay as he’d left her, still as stone on the kitchen table, her head tipped to the side, her red, silky curls falling over the butcher-block surface. His heart lurched. Slowly he stepped next to her and laid his hand over hers against her stomach.

Cold.

“Come on, baby…” He gripped her hand and felt for her pulse at her throat.

Nothing.

Another scream echoed from somewhere in the house, but Titus was too panicked to wonder where it was coming from.

Come on, come on, come on…

Zander and Demetrius tore off toward a back room. Theron moved up slowly on Titus’s side. Titus’s fingers shook as he continued to feel for any sign of life. “Come on, ligos Vesuvius…”

Footsteps echoed at Titus’s back. He felt, rather than saw, Prometheus in the room. At the back of the house, a crack sounded, followed by a female scream and the crash of furniture splintering.

A blip. Right there against her throat. Hope surged. Titus gripped Natasa’s shoulders. Shook her. “Wake up, baby…”

“Fotia,” Prometheus whispered.

“Zeus will be sorry he wasn’t here to see this.”

A chill spread down Titus’s back, and he froze. Very carefully, he lifted his head and looked toward the sound of the voice. In a doorway on the far side of the room, a blond-haired, blindingly beautiful god stood staring his direction. Only he wasn’t looking at Titus; he was staring through him, toward Prometheus.

Blood dripped down Prometheus’s side. His hair was a wild gray tangle around his head. He stepped out from behind Titus. At his side, Theron moved toward the door and muttered, “T, get back.”

“Well, well. Look who’s free?”

“Poseidon. Still as big a pussy as your brothers.”

Thoughts pinged around the room. Titus looked from one menacing face to the next. Prometheus didn’t appear fragile anymore. He stood erect, as if he’d grown two feet, and tension flowed in the air, as thick as blood.

Behind Poseidon, Demetrius carried a ragged Calypso in his arms. Her hair was disheveled, her eyes wide and frightened, her dress ripped at the shoulder and hem.

Poseidon spread his feet and nodded toward the blood trickling down Prometheus’s side. “Still nursing old wounds, I see, uncle.”

“And you’re still forcing yourself on unwilling nymphs,” Prometheus tossed back. “Why don’t you go back to the sea where you belong before you get hurt?”

Poseidon’s eyes narrowed. “She’s mine, not yours, thief.”

Prometheus’s eyes flashed. “I only stole that which already belonged to humans. Nothing more. Your king is more of a thief than I could ever be.”

They were talking about fire. The fire Prometheus had stolen from Zeus and which had led to his imprisonment.

“And I’m stealing it back,” Poseidon answered. “She made a deal with me, and I’m not letting her go. Alive or dead, she belongs to me.”

Titus’s gaze shot to Natasa, lying unmoving beneath his hands. A deal. She’d made a deal with Poseidon.

For you. So he can’t have the element…

She’d made a deal with the god of the oceans to keep her fever in check. Her rambling admission last night that she’d dreamt of him, that she was sorry she hadn’t waited, finally made sense

“Stupid, ligos Vesuvius,” he whispered, leaning close and running his finger over her soft cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Your deal backfired.” Prometheus stretched his arm toward Natasa. “And fire is stronger than water, Olympian. Remember that.”

Heat erupted beneath Titus’s fingers. The table burst into flames. He jerked his hands back on reflex, cringing at the burn. Natasa’s emerald-green eyes flew wide open. Her lips parted, and a blood-curdling scream pushed out her throat.

“No!” Poseidon yelled.

The house shook, and a deluge of rain poured from the ceiling. But the flames beneath and around Natasa only grew higher. The fire spread down the table legs, along the floor and to the walls, climbing in swirling, angry eddies until the entire house was engulfed in flames.

“Titus!” Theron yelled.

Titus ducked as the fire spread across the ceiling. He held up a hand to block the heat from searing his skin. From across the room, Poseidon’s eyes flashed brilliant blue. He shot a scathing look toward Prometheus and growled, then disappeared in a crack of thunder.

Zander and Demetrius rushed out of the house with Calypso. Prometheus looked back at Natasa on the table. A sad expression turned his lips, then he lowered his head hastily and followed the Argonauts.

Natasa continued screaming as her body was burned alive. Horrified, Titus reached for her, but the flames erupted around her, as if protecting her from his touch. He fell back on his ass.

“Titus!” Theron yelled again.

Smoke filled his lungs. Heat singed his hair. A hand grasped his sleeve. Yanked him up. Pulled hard toward the exit.

“No! Let me go!” Titus fought against Theron’s grasp. “I can’t leave her! I can’t—”

An earsplitting crack echoed. Titus looked up just as the beams above gave way.

“Go, now!”

Theron threw Titus out of the house and onto the grass before they were caught in the inferno. Rain poured down around them, soaking their clothing, their skin, running in rivulets down Titus’s face. The small structure exploded in flames. Each droplet of water seemed to spur the blaze higher instead of dampen the fire.

Titus dropped to his knees in the mud and rested his hands on his thighs. He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Wet hair hung in clumps in front of his eyes.

Natasa…

His entire world had ignited in that house. Everything he hadn’t known he’d needed. Not just his chance to finally be free of his curse, but his heart. A heart that would always belong to her.

Natasa blinked several times.

The fever was gone. The heat inside her still smoldered, but it was contained somewhere…safe. Power gathered at her center, yet it wasn’t the same uncontrollable intensity she’d experienced before. This was strong. Directed. Hers.

She unwound her arm from her knees and held her hand out. Imagined flames. Fire ignited in the palm of her hand. Her eyes grew wide with wonder. She closed her hand into a fist, and the flame went out. No pain. No struggle. Just strength. Opening her palm once more, she saw nothing but perfect skin.

“Holy Hera.”

The whispered words brought Natasa around. She looked out over smoking ash and rain-soaked grass toward a group of men and one woman. Three men stared in shock. The woman sat on the ground tugging her dress into place. Another man was smiling—this one familiar—and the last was on his knees, his hands on his thighs, his head hanging forward, dark, stringy, wet hair shielding his face.

“Fotia,” the smiling man said in a low and proud voice. “My rising phoenix.”

No, not a man. A god. A Titan.

Her father, Prometheus.

Slowly, the kneeling man lifted his head. Hazel eyes met hers. And warmth exploded deep in her chest.

Titus.

“Oh my gods,” he whispered.

He lurched to his feet and sprinted across the mud and ash toward her.

Natasa pushed to her feet, as anxious to get to him as he was to her. His arms closed around her. But before she could grab on, he yanked back and dropped to his knees again, gasping for breath.

“Titus?” She reached out to help him up, afraid he’d slipped in the mud or fallen or—

He held up a hand to block her from touching him again. Slapped his other hand against his chest and rasped in a breath. “Don’t. Just…wait.”

Understanding dawned at the pain she saw twisting his features. The fire element was contained. It was no longer consuming her. And he could feel her.

No, no, no…

“Rising phoenix? Smart move, old man.”

Natasa jerked her attention from Titus toward the dark-haired god who’d appeared out of nowhere, moving toward her from the left, a licentious smile curling his lips.

Zeus. She felt the power radiating from him, knew he was the King of the Gods, knew he was here for her.

“I told you this would pay off, brother.”

She whipped to her right, where Poseidon was also advancing fast, a blinding, evil light alive in his blue eyes.

“From the transmutation of fire,” Poseidon went on, “we can create the other elements. Hades will never be the wiser.”

“You were right,” Zeus said, his eyes locked on Natasa. He tsked. “I missed you, flame. That was naughty of you to run away.”

The three Argonauts drew their weapons, then put themselves between her and the gods. Titus tried to push to his feet in the mud, but dropped back down when his legs gave out. Her father moved toward her, as if he were going to try to protect her.

Instinct crashed in. A need to guard. One that had nothing to do with self-preservation and everything to do with protecting those she loved.

She lifted her hands over her head, swirling them high. Flames erupted in a circle all around her, the Argonauts, the nymph, and her father, blocking the Olympian gods from reaching them.

Poseidon jumped back and cursed. Zeus thrust his hands forward, throwing lightning toward the flames, trying to break them open. The bolts hit the flames and shot back. Zeus scrambled to the side and only just missed being fried. Irate, Poseidon swept his arms toward the lake and back in a fierce move. Water surged forward, flooded the land and crashed against the flames. The wall of fire grew higher, protecting them.

At Natasa’s side, her father chuckled and muttered, “Take that, you scheming Olympians.”

Wide-eyed, the Argonauts looked from one god’s enraged face to the next, then at each other. But it was Titus, Natasa focused on. Still kneeling in the mud, staring up at her with pained, heartbroken, beautiful eyes.

She dropped to her knees in the muddy ash and rested her hands on her thighs. She’d gotten exactly what she’d wanted, but something in the bottom of her soul said it had come with a price.

“You saved me again,” he said quietly.

“We saved each other. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

A weak smile tugged at his mouth.

She wanted to reach out to him, to gather him in her arms. To kiss away the pain brewing in his eyes. But she was the cause of it. All the heartache he’d experienced, all the panic…it was all because of her. And now…now even her touch caused him agony.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t think there was another way. I didn’t want Poseidon to have the element, and I made that deal with him before I ever even knew about you. I…I was trying to protect you from getting hurt.”

“It’s okay.”

Tears filled her eyes. “No, it’s not. I should have believed that everything I ever needed would find me if I was patient. I don’t know how I can ever make that up to you.”

The flicker of flames reflected deeply in his eyes. Her flames. “You just did.”

Gods, Titus…I love you.

A sad smile turned his lips. Didn’t come close to reaching his beautiful eyes. “I know.”

Tears ran down her cheeks to mix with the rain. Vaguely she was aware of someone wrapping a wet shirt around her naked body, but she barely cared. All she could see and feel and focus on was the man—hero—who’d brought her back to life. Who’d given her life.

“I’ve spent my whole life thinking I didn’t need a soul mate,” he whispered. “I was wrong. I love you too, Natasa. More than you will ever know.”

They were the words she longed to hear, and yet her heart shattered in the rain between them. For months, all she’d hoped and prayed and pleaded for was that the fever would leave her. Now she only wanted it back.