Thronos knew pain. He could handle it.
The day was beginning its long, slow fade to twilight. Considering this realm’s sluggish passage of time, he’d already been away from the outpost far too long. But leaving this place would be cowardly. And he was no—
Movement behind him? He twisted around.
In the center of this glade, the air blurred. A gap opened, a portal.
Cautiously stepping from it was the most breathtaking female Thronos had ever seen.
Long raven hair. Plump red lips. Eyes as blue as the skies he’d lost when his kingdom fell.
That raw emptiness, that maddening absence began to . . . ease? As if some magnet were pulling him toward her, his feet started to close the distance between them.
But she was dressed as a sorceress, with a metal headdress and breastplate, an unusual gold necklace—and leather trews that lovingly molded to her generous curves. He scrubbed his palm over his mouth, needing to focus; difficult when treated to such a sight.
A sorceress might fear he meant her harm. After Morgana, he supposed he should be suspicious of this one as well.
If he announced himself, would she run back into that portal, lost to him? At the thought, panic seized his chest. Why did he feel like she would run?
She caught sight of him, and her gaze widened, as if with disbelief. She dropped the bag she was carrying, taking a quick step forward, body tensed, those red lips parted.
He could almost swear she’d been about to leap into his arms before she’d stopped herself. Which couldn’t be right. A trick of the mind.
Raising his palms, he quickly said, “My name is Thronos Talos, and I mean you no harm, sorceress.”
“I know.” Her eyes started to shimmer with a blue metallic gleam. “I don’t mean you any harm either,” said the tiny female—who looked like she couldn’t hurt a fly.
But with Sorceri, appearances were deceiving.
Her friendly demeanor emboldened him to step closer to her. He struggled not to limp in front of such a beauty.
“I’m Lanthe.” She looked like running from him was the last thing on her mind. Again, he got the curious impression that she was barely holding herself in place.
She also showed no surprise at her surroundings, as if she’d been to this glade before. Thronos had half believed he was the only one who knew of it.
All around her, surreal drops floated and bubbles bobbed, but she never took her eyes from him. When she tilted her head, her black hair swept over her shoulder, sending tendrils of her scent toward him.
He inhaled greedily. His muscles shot tight with tension.
Sky. Home.
This exquisite creature was . . . his mate. A sense of déjà vu wracked him. “Will you not close that threshold and speak with me, Lanthe?”
She nodded, turning back to the portal. She leaned over to poke her head back in. Gods, the body on that female! He didn’t know whether he wanted to kiss her—or crush her in a hug.
All he knew was that the shard was slowly withdrawing from his chest.
Lanthe seemed to be speaking to someone on the other side. Was there another who would yank her back through? Who could ever let such a female go?
His face fell. How could a woman this incomparable have no mate?
“Yes, right this very minute!” she said to someone unseen. “Not twenty freaking feet behind me!” Pause. “Because maybe I don’t suck.” Another pause. “For the love of gold, I don’t need an illusion,” she said in an exasperated tone. “I look fine. I’ll portal soon!”
Relief rushed through him as soon as the threshold closed.
“My sister.” Lanthe rolled her eyes. “For someone so cool, she’s turned into a mother hen. Weird. So where were we?” She seemed nervous.
“Why are you in a place like this, sorceress?” A dark thought arose. “Perhaps you’ve come to spy on me for your queen?” Maybe Morgana sought their total annihilation.