Dark Skye(132)

Nereus raised his red brows. “I would. If the Vrekener succumbs to their considerable charms, you will spend the night with me. Willingly and lustily.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“I will release both of you, giving you use of Sargasoe’s portal to travel wherever you choose.”

“How will we know?” she asked.

Nereus waved a hand, and a new scene played on the waterfall.

Lanthe could see Thronos lying on a bed, much like the one in which she’d woken—with Nereids for a mattress. He was slowly coming to.

A dozen more nymphs loomed over him. The sea-foam skirts they’d worn at the feast had disappeared. Their made-for-sex bodies were completely unclothed, their eyes lambent with desire.

Naked nymphs in obvious heat surrounded Lanthe’s male.

This situation would be any man’s most fevered fantasy—yet Thronos looked agitated. “Where’s Melanthe?” In the face of such splendor, his first thought was of her.

Because he’s mine.

He pushed them away, and her heart soared. He was so handsome, so strong. So . . . good.

“I’ll take your bet,” Lanthe told the god in a smug tone.

Nereus’s smile was unctuous. “Then we have a pact, sorceress.”

Yet before Thronos could reach the door, the nymphs fell upon him. Pale hands roamed all over his body, stroking his wings, his chest, his horns, their touch seeming to daze him. “I just want to find . . . it’s important to find her,” he murmured.

“Find us,” they purred, as if with one voice. “We desire you so deeply.”

Over her shoulder, Lanthe snapped, “They’re bespelling him! That wasn’t part of the deal!”

Nereus shrugged. “A worthy male, one who intends absolute fidelity, could shake off their spell. Otherwise he’ll succumb, and once he does, he’ll never want to leave. In fact, he’ll go into a murderous rage if separated from his harem.”

Lanthe’s stomach lurched as the females led Thronos back to the bed, ripping off his shirt on the way.

“Where is she?” he demanded, but his resistance faltered with each expert caress.

“She doesn’t want you,” they chorused, coaxing him to lie back. “Not like we do.”

I do! Faced with losing him, Lanthe was rocked by a yawning loss. She’d already been having possessive feelings toward Thronos, but now . . .

I want him so much.

Since she could remember, she’d pined for a male who would adore her above all things. Yes, there was a vicious history between her and Thronos, but she’d believed he would eventually fall in love with her.

True love. Which was more than she could say about any other male she’d met in her lifetime. . . .

Off went his boots. “All your life, you’ve pursued and endured,” the Nereids murmured, “while she enjoyed other males. You longed for the freedom to choose who you desired. Now you can, but only here, where there’s no such thing as matehood.”

How could he resist that reasoning? He’d felt “cuckolded.” He’d tried to stray. And now in this realm, he was finally free to.

No longer was Lanthe his bitter necessity.

Just days ago, he’d told her she was lacking, that he would never desire someone like her.

But things had changed between them. He’d told her he wanted everything from her. Maybe if she’d given him any kind of encouragement, any definitive signal that her own feelings had changed, he would’ve stayed faithful.

When one of the Nereids began undoing Thronos’s pants—with her teeth—Lanthe was staggered by the tears spilling from her eyes. “Let me go to him and stop this. Please, Nereus!”