Page 30 of Queen to the Sunless Court (Brides of Myth #2)

On the Way Back

Calliste

The terrace came into view, along with Lykos waiting for them, accompanied by Xanthos, who was evidently shocked at their manner of arrival.

“How did they know when to expect us?” Theron muttered.

“Morpheus, likely,” she said. “He likes to smooth things out. Do you trust Xanthos?”

“I do. He advised my father, and now he handles everything for me. I don’t know if Lykos brought him in on purpose, but this is for the best.”

Nocturne landed softly, almost silently. When Theron dismounted and helped her down, her legs nearly buckled beneath her.

He steadied her. “I’ll take you to your room.”

“You must be drained as well.”

“Somewhat,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist, allowing her to lean against him. “I still want to get you to bed and see Kalias before I can rest...” He trailed off at the sight of Xanthos’ face. “We’re coming back from, erm—”

“The Underworld, I was told.” Xanthos stood very still, eyes wide as he glanced between them and Nocturne. He cleared his throat. “Frankly, I thought Lykos had lost his mind when he told me.”

Lykos shrugged, amused. “Now you can take it back.”

“Huh,” Theron almost snorted. “You brought him here to aggravate him.” His voice was suddenly hoarse.

“He’s exhausted,” Calliste said. “And he needs rest.”

“I can see that,” Xanthos remarked, glancing briefly at her. “It seems you both do.” His eyes returned to the horse.

“This is Nocturne,” Theron said.

“Nocturne,” Xanthos repeated, his eyes fixed on the horse, a mix of admiration and disbelief shining in them. “You mean this steed belongs to the Underworld.”

“To the lord of the Underworld.”

Theron held Calliste closer, and she was grateful, as she could barely stand. She could also tell that Xanthos and Lykos noticed this gesture… but especially Xanthos.

He gave a brief glance before meeting Theron’s eye, his tone caustic as he said, “If I’m supposed to run this country while you’re constantly away… in the Underworld, you need to pay me better.”

Despite herself, Calliste chuckled.

“And you find it funny.” Xanthos shook his head. “It’s no laughing matter, handling everything while Theron is—”

“Hold out a little longer, Xanthos,” Theron said, “and, erm, maybe bear in mind that if we don’t finish our task, there will be no country to run.”

Xanthos paled, giving him a concerned look.

“We’re in the midst of a peculiar situation in the immortal realm,” Calliste added. “Which requires our assistance. Forgive me if that sounds vague, but it’s all I can share.”

Xanthos gave a slow nod. “You’re vague because I wouldn’t believe it, or is there another reason?”

“Mainly because I’m tired,” she replied. “And it’s a long story.”

The king’s advisor scrutinized her, then turned to Theron. “When you’re ready, I have the report you’ve been waiting for.”

“Which one?” Theron asked tiredly.

“The one I told you would take longer to compile.” Xanthos looked away as he said it, and Calliste thought he was vague on purpose.

But Theron shrugged and cleared his throat. “Whatever it is, it can wait until I’ve had some sleep.”

Xanthos nodded. “As you wish.”

***

They checked on Kalias, still wrapped in serene sleep, then, accompanied by Lykos, they made their way down the silent corridors to her room.

“Theron,” Calliste murmured sleepily, “don’t go to Solon without me.”

He paused as if considering. “I won’t.” He opened the door for her, helped her to the bed, and she sank into the crisp softness like a stone.

“I should wash,” she muttered, untying her sandals, “but I have no strength.”

His chuckle was the only sound in the quiet room. “You can do it later. Let me get the curtains.”

The light in the room dimmed, soft darkness washing over the colors, giving them all a deeper hue.

His eyes glinted in the semi-darkness as he returned to her bed, giving her a lingering look. “Sleep well. I’ll see you when—”

“Theron,” she reached out.

He took her hand, staring at her. “Yes?”

It was such a simple thing to say, yet it caught in her throat.

I don’t want to wake up alone. For once, I want to wake up and see you.

But somehow, she couldn’t say it aloud, which was strange, because she was supposed to be fearless now.

Maybe because she hadn’t been raised to be so bold, or perhaps she feared he might misunderstand her intentions.

“You want me to stay with you?” he asked quietly, cautious.

She nodded.

His breath slowed before he released her hand and turned, walking toward the door.

Before she had time to feel mortified, he poked his head out and said something to Lykos. Then he closed the door, locked it, and returned to her.

The heavy curtains made the room dim, but not completely dark, allowing her to see the glint of his eyes as he slowly removed his armor, belt, and striders. “No points of pressure, correct?” he quipped.

She laughed, recalling how she had said the same thing to him in Aganeeios while trying to help him sleep, asking him to undress.

It seemed like years ago.

He slipped in beside her, the scent of his skin still fresh. The bed yielded under his weight. “I have a confession to make—hope you don’t kick me out after I tell you.”

Likely not.

“I snuck into your bed while you were unconscious and recovering from that wound, right after Panakeios left.” His eyes drifted to the scar on her chest.

“Oh. I know.”

He froze. “You do?”

“I saw it—briefly—from the Underworld.”

He looked mildly embarrassed.

“I was glad you did.” She snuggled close, aligning herself perfectly so her forehead nestled against his neck, near his chest where she could hear his heartbeat.

He wrapped his arms around her, his hand sliding down her back and resting over her scars—but then he quickly took it away.

“They don’t hurt, Theron,” she muttered against his skin, luxuriating in his scent infused with cardamom, cinnamon and sea breeze, her body relaxing and softening.

He stroked her back with gentleness that made her heart clench as his fingertips traced her scars, as if memorizing their exact pattern—or trying to smooth them away.

She wished he could.

Silence melted between them.

She adjusted her hips to get more comfortable and froze as she brushed against his hardness. Her breath caught, and her shocked gaze met his.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I’m not sure why you’re so surprised, Calliste. This is a very natural reaction I’ve had to you for a long time. Surely, you know I cannot just lie beside you and think chaste thoughts.”

Her face must have turned bright red. “It never crossed my mind that you could have unchaste thoughts... about me.”

“I’ve already shared some of them with you.”

You. Bare underneath me, arching and coming wildly with my name on your lips. She doubted she could ever forget those words and wished she wasn’t so tired and dispirited. “Theron, I don’t think it’s—”

“Of course it’s not a good time for it,” he said smoothly. “We’re both exhausted. Well—” his gaze heated up “—except for a part of me that’s overly excited, but it’ll have to manage its expectations.”

She laughed. “Is it not... uncomfortable?”

With a sigh, Theron adjusted himself, creating some space between their hips.

“It’s torture, but I’ve gotten used to it.

Trust me, Calliste, doing this when your mind is elsewhere or forcing it when your body isn’t ready is a sure way to ruin this beautiful union.

I want it to be at the right time. Let’s rest, Calliste.

Sleep in my arms. That’s more than enough for now. ”

She couldn’t deny that she noticed her own reactions: the aching, spasming tightness in her lower abdomen and the way her breasts felt heavier through the fabric of her robe—all of it puzzling and new, as she’d never experienced these sensations before. Not with her husband, nor with Hypnos.

It was uncomfortable and hard to ignore, but the tiredness pushed her deeper and deeper into sleep.

And she trusted his words, even though she had questions.

“Theron,” she asked in a drowsy voice, secretly glad that the tiredness had dulled some of her inhibitions.

“You must have had… quite a few women, I imagine.”

He hesitated for a moment. “Before my wife? A few.”

She let the answer hang in the air. “That was… very vague.”

“Vague is exactly what it feels like,” he chuckled, then sighed. “When I was younger, I... let’s say, experimented.”

“Experimented?”

“With willing women I fancied but made no promises to, and who accepted those terms because they wanted a night with the crown prince. I also had tutors my father employed, because I was—” he laughed under his breath “—spoiled. But if you’re looking for exact numbers or names, the answer will be vague.

..” He paused. “None of it meant anything, because you’re the only one who has ever captured my heart. Does that count?”

A sparkling warmth coursed through her chest. She nestled even closer, listening to his deepening breath, soaking up his warmth until it swallowed up her thoughts, enveloping her in perfect silence.