Page 115 of Eryx

“We should go,” I said, grabbing his arm. “Give him this moment alone. It is not for us to see.”

He glanced at Quill with sorrow in his eyes before slowly nodding and walking with me to the barracks. No words were spoken as we found our bed. They weren’t spoken as Axios draped an arm across my torso and nestled into his favorite spot at my side. They didn’t need to be. I felt his love through the pressing of his lips on my collarbone, and I hoped he felt mine when I held him tighter.

And then we slept.

***

“Sneaking off to roll in the hay again?” Theon asked the next day after morning meal.

Quill, who was walking in front of us on the path, turned around and grinned. “Those poor horses. Must be torture seeing your naked asses all the time.”

Both he and Quill behaved like their old playful selves, acting as though their argument from the night before never happened. When I had woken that morning, I’d even seen them lying in each other’s arms, as if they’d spoken again after Axios and I had gone to sleep and had reached an understanding.

Or maybe fate connected them much like it connected me to Axios. It was stronger than anything else in this world. Nothing, not even a heated quarrel, could tear them apart.

“My business is not for you to know,” Axios said, as a blush colored his cheeks.

Quill exchanged a look with Theon before both men started laughing. They challenged each other to a race and took off running toward the training arena while Axios and I stayed on the path we were on.

“Should I say anything to them?” Axios asked, watching them until they faded from sight.

“Do not pressure them,” I said. “If they are meant to be together, they will be. You cannot force a man to love another. It is a decision made by the heart and nothing else.”

He sighed and gazed upward. Clouds covered the sun but streams of light still found a way to burst through, sending golden rays throughout the valley.

“Eryx? Axios?”

We turned at the female voice to see Rhea walking toward us. Paris and Galen were not with her. She held the hand of a small boy while her daughter moved at her side, tall enough now that she reached her mother’s chest.

“Rhea,” I greeted, nodding once she was in front of us.

“How are you?” she asked, beaming with a smile.

“We are well,” Axios said, clasping her hand before releasing it.

I hadn’t visited with her or her two men in quite some time. Life had kept us apart. Her son reached to touch my hand and gave me a toothy grin when I knelt down to greet him. He greatly resembled Galen with his dark hair and even darker eyes.

“Greetings, Acamas,” I said, letting him squeeze my fingers. He was nearing three years of age and had a mighty grip. I doubted he remembered me, but his smile never faltered.

“Paris and Galen are training,” Rhea said with an edge of trepidation in her voice. “I barely see them these days. Word has it that another war is coming.”

Every soldier felt it; the calm before the storm. Envoys from other cities had not arrived, but each day I anticipated them. The conflict with Olynthus had only been the beginning. The Spartan army continued the war efforts outside of Potidaea, and it was only a matter of time before tensions rose even more.

I stood and met her worried gaze. “If it does, we’ll be ready.”

We had to be.

Chapter Twenty-Four

381 BC – Nearly One Year Later

The colors of autumn could be seen all throughout Sparta. Leaves had changed from green to yellow and orange. Some had even turned red. Fitting for our home in Laconia, I supposed. Red-blooded males with blood staining their hands long after they’d washed them clean.

Axios brushed his hand along my thigh as we walked to visit Leanna.

“I have a question for you,” I said, glancing over at him. He had been staring up at the tree we passed with a soft smile. “What do you see when you think of the color red?”

“Red?” He pursed his lips as he pondered the question. “Clay can be red at times. It’s also the color of our cloaks.” As he scrunched up his face, I found the crease between his brows endearing. “Red reminds of a rose, which reminds me of love.”