Page 16 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)

Between the Scars

Calliste

Melitta burst into her room soon enough, wide eyed. “Calliste!” She raced to the bed, looking as if she wanted to throw herself into her arms, but settled for grasping her hand instead. “How are you feeling? Gods, I was praying for you.” She searched her face. “You’re not in pain, are you?”

“No,” Calliste shook her head. “I just want to have a bath and wash off… everything.”

Melitta stilled, questions filling her eyes.

“I—I can’t talk about it right now, Melitta. Not yet.”

“I understand,” she whispered. “It’s just... Mum told me she found you in a pool of blood next to the prince when she checked on you in the morning. It was frightening, especially because Chrysanthos swears he heard nothing.”

“Oh, Chrysanthos speaks the truth. Is he in trouble because of me?”

“No, but he’s not allowed to leave the palace.”

Calliste rubbed her face. “Gods, I didn’t realize… I didn’t want that for him.”

Still clutching her hand, Melitta perched on the side of the bed. “He’s not accused of anything—and now that you’re awake, you’ll be able to clear him.”

“Melitta, when you see the captain, please tell him there was nothing he could have done to help me, and it wasn’t his fault.”

“I will. But first... let me get you some hot water for your bath.”

“Wait.”

Melitta’s brows arched.

“Please don't tell anyone I'm awake. Not yet.”

“By anyone..." Her eyes sparkled. "You mean the king?”

A complicated feeling tightened in her chest. “Yes. I need to prepare myself before I speak to him...” Gods. How will I explain everything to him? Dread slowly wrapped its icy fingers around her heart.

“Don’t worry. No one will know until you’re ready.

” With that, she spun out of the room and soon returned with hot water.

When the bath was prepared, Melitta guided her into the bathroom watching her every step as if expecting her to collapse at any moment.

“I’ll change your bedding and bring you food,” she said. “Will you manage?”

“What, getting into the bath?”

“Not drowning while I’m gone. You’ve just woken up from a long sleep.”

“I’m fine, Melitta, and not drowsy. In fact, I’m anything but that. Just stiff and weak.” Calliste smiled at her.

Gaiane’s daughter had a serious look on her face. “On the morning you were wounded, Panakeios stayed here for several hours, fighting to keep you alive. That was two days ago. Now you don’t even wear dressings. How is it… possible?”

Calliste glanced down at the tip of the vertical scar peeking from beneath her emerald pendant, steeling herself to deliver the necessary white lie. “I’m a priestess of Epione. We heal much faster than anyone else, Melitta. That’s how.”

“Oooh… I see.” A new shade of respect entered Melitta’s eyes, then she grinned.

“The king was so worried about you. He stayed outside this room the entire time Panakeios fought for your life, refusing to leave. Mum had a hard time persuading him to even eat anything.” Her grin widened.

“She said she nearly had to force it down his throat.”

“Oh… truly?” Calliste blushed, her chest tightening with both sweet disbelief and growing dread. “What about his duties?”

“Well, he ignored them,” Gaiane’s daughter replied, her smile still wide and delighted.

“No one could move him from your door. Captain Lykos tried, as did Xanthos and my mum. And don’t you dare downplay it, because I know you’ll try.

He cares about you so much it makes my heart sing.

All the time you were unconscious, he wasn’t at the Assembly. So there.”

“Thank you,” Calliste whispered, squeezing her hand. “I... Thank you, and oh, Melitta,” she suddenly remembered. “The robe you gifted me—it’s ruined, isn’t it? I’m so sorry—”

Melitta’s eyes widened. “I couldn’t care less, as long as you’re unharmed.”

“But it was stunning.”

“I can get you another one, and, hmm, come to think of it, I probably need to do it right now.” Melitta’s cheeks dimpled.

“You don’t have any clean clothes, because I took your usual ones to wash and completely forgot about them after that morning.

All right, you get into the bath, and I’ll bring you food and clothes. You have the towel for now.”

“It will do. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Then I’m going.” Melitta fluttered out of the bathroom and the chamber door clicked shut behind her.

Calliste stood in silence for a moment, then shed her patient’s robe, folded it on the carved stool, and stepped into the bath.

The hot water felt heavenly, stripping away the last two days from her. Her body soaked up the warmth as she luxuriated in the scent of rose and myrtle salts, which Melitta must have added to the water in heaps. She washed and wrung out her hair before finally stepping out of the bath, restless.

As she wrapped herself in a towel, a gentle knock sounded on her chamber door, and it opened.

“Back so soon?” Calliste asked with a smile, eager for Melitta’s company. “You won’t like this, but I’m not exactly starving,” she said, stepping out of the bathroom, only to freeze, her breath leaving her lungs in a rush. “...Theron?”

Slowly, he closed the door behind him, his gaze sweeping over her wet hair and the towel she clutched to her chest, narrowing at the scar peeking from behind it.

“Calliste.” In the silence between them, his voice was as deep and rough and glinting as a diamond asleep inside a rock, and he seemed to be as caught off-guard as she was.

And… as breathtaking as ever in his dark robe and black leather breastplate with golden lions, his hair swept back and curling at his neck. His aura of power blazed in his bronze eyes, saturating the small space between them, rooting her to the spot.

They had only been apart for two days, and now she was back, tasked with revealing a truth he might find incredible at best, and tearing them apart at worst. Yet even so...

“Theron,” she breathed, suddenly aware that whatever Hypnos had been conjuring in her mind was pathetic and powerless against the man before her. “I know you need answers—”

“Oh, I demand answers,” he said hoarsely, stepping closer, his scent of hot spices and icy sea breeze swirling around him. “But the first thing I need is your answer to this .” He cradled her cheeks and pulled her into a kiss.

Shocked, she softened in his hands for a moment which he used to guide her backward against the wall and hold her there. His lips against hers set her alight; her heart fluttered in his radiance and heat like a moth caught in a flame, dying a glorious, gratifying death.

Their tongues touched, tangled, and she moaned into his mouth, reduced to desire and instinct.

Her hands glided up his chest to his neck, slipping into his thick hair, grabbing a fistful.

What shimmered and sang between them—that insatiable energy that made her so light-headed as it flooded her veins with burning sweetness—nothing compared to it.

So it felt doubly unfair when he stilled and pulled away, the heat of their connection cooling. “No, Theron, please don’t stop…” she pleaded under her uneven breath, then opened her eyes.

He still pressed against her, his arm against the wall, caging her in. His eyes were full of sparks dancing in an unfathomable darkness.

But Melitta’s—because she was standing farther along the wall, in the doorway, balancing a tray of food in one hand while holding the door open with the other—were as wide as saucers. “Majesty,” she said, curtsying with a flushed face. “I can come back later.” She made a move to leave.

Theron straightened but remained in place. “Come in, Melitta. Calliste needs to eat.”

Melitta slunk past Theron and into the room, where she set down the tray in a rush, removed the robe hanging over her forearm and spread it on the chair, then whirled around, meeting Calliste’s mortified gaze with a glowing grin and enthusiastic head bobbing as she rushed back to the door.

“Melitta?” Theron said without turning around.

She froze. “M—Majesty?”

“I rely on your discretion.”

Her shoulders relaxed. “Oh, you’ll always have it, Majesty,” she replied, her grin widening as she shot Calliste a last bright look before closing the door behind her.

Calliste exhaled. “She won’t say a word. She’s such a treasure.”

“Oh, I know. She’s her mother’s daughter. But I wanted to remind her, because…” His eyes never left her face, burning, his smile slow to build. “I assure you, no one in this palace has seen me pinning a naked woman to the wall.”

“I’m wrapped in a towel.”

“You have your hands around my neck and let go of your towel. I could feel it slipping to my feet. Interesting that you didn’t.”

She stilled, registering that she was indeed naked, her breasts pressed against the rigid leather of his breastplate, and a deep blush spread across her body. “Oh, gods.”

“I wonder if I’m simply lucky.” He still held her close, his voice low, intense. “I’ve been thinking about this, and it doesn’t help that I’ll be here all day, we’re alone, and there’s a bed just a few steps away.”

Stunned, she met his direct gaze, recognizing the subtle power dynamic—he was armored while she was exposed, and her imagination filled this brief moment with images of him standing over her on the bed, fully dressed and commanding, while she was bare and subject to his orders.

The mere thought of him sliding his knee between hers to open her legs, his eyes fixed on her, unwavering, almost unblinking, the corner of his mouth lifting in encouragement as he leaned over, ordering her to tear off his armor and run her hands over the steely muscles underneath—her body tingled at the mere thought.

And then it burned as she imagined him lifting her up against the wall and burying himself deep in one unapologetic move, just like she’d imagined back in Petrakelis Passage, with that wild, surging moment of victory and survival connecting them.

Except…

His wife is alive in the Underworld. He needs to know. That single thought extinguished everything else. She took a steadying breath. “We’d better not.”

He gave her a cautious glance, already on alert. She could almost feel the heat of his body cooling down. “I know you’re recovering from a serious injury, of course.” He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers. “One last kiss?”

She turned her face away. “I… I can’t.”

“We’ve just kissed.”

“You caught me off guard.” She focused her gaze on the floor.

“And you’ve had time to think it through. So, what changed?” he asked quietly, but there was a steely edge to his voice.

“You came here for answers, didn’t you?”

“I came for you ,” he replied flatly. “And I understand the word no . I’m just wondering if it has anything to do with a certain god named Hypnos.”

A chill gripped her. “How do you know about him?”

His eyes burned coldly in the suffocating silence. He turned on his heel and strode to the window, stopping with his arms crossed and his back to her. “Put on your clothes, Calliste,” he said in a detached voice. “Then eat. And after that… I need to hear the truth and nothing but the truth.”