Always.
His father had demanded he divorce Zephyra and marry a priestess to fulfill the destiny his father had planned for him and he'd done it. No, it wasn't just that. Zephyra had all but kicked him out the door when Apollo told her what the god thought of her and her lowly birth.
"The daughter of a fisherman married to the son of a god? Are you out of your minds? There are whores for you aplenty, Strykerius. I didn't save you from slaughter to see you marry this and beget worthless children from lesser genetic stock."
Stryker should have defended Zephyra. He'd known it at the time. But at only fourteen, a prime marital age in the ancient world, he'd been scared of his father's powers. Scared of disappointing the god who'd meant the world to him.
"Well?" Medea demanded. "Answer me. Why did you leave us?"
Stryker deadened his features. He was no longer a frightened youth. He was an eleven-thousand-year-old general. "I don't answer to anyone, and I damn sure don't answer to my daughter. What happened then is between me and your mother."
"Are you willing to die then?"
"I'm a warrior, Medea. I accepted death as inevitable the moment I picked up my first sword to fight. I killed my own son for betraying me. It seems somehow fitting that my daughter should kill me for perceived similar actions. My only regret will be not knowing better the child who is so similar to me that she could execute me so swiftly and without regret or hesitation."
She lifted her arm up. Stryker expected her to kill him. Instead, the chains holding him broke loose from his wrists and ankles.
"Come with me."
Stryker followed her as a new plan formed in his mind. Little did she know he was no docile pup to be commanded by any person.
When he reached the door, he turned back to see Jared hanging limply from his restraints, his muzzle firmly in place. A wave of sympathy went through him.
Don't feel sorry for me, Stryker. I didn't choose to be here.
Those ominous words echoed through his head as he followed Medea out of the room and she closed the door, blocking his sight of Jared.
"Is he a prisoner?"
"No. He was a gift."
"A gift?"
She nodded without any further explanation.
"From?" he prompted.
She opened a door and led him inside a cold, austere room. "Jared's presence isn't something we talk about. Ever."
Perhaps . . .
Medea started down the hallway. Now that Stryker was free of the room, he felt his powers soaring. There must have been some sort of dampening spell on the room. Now that it was gone . . .
Invigorated, he rushed to his daughter and grabbed her from behind.
Eyes wide, she gasped.
"I'm a leader, child. I follow no one." Tightening his hold, he flashed her out of the building and back to Kalosis.
MEDEA SHRIEKED IN ANGER AS SHE TRIED TO flash herself out of Kalosis.
Stryker tsked at her. "I've closed the channel. You can't get out until I open it again."
Her black eyes flared with fury, reminding him all the more of her mother. "Matera will kill you for this."
He released her and took a step back. "She was going to kill me anyway. What difference does it make?"
"Her plan hadn't included torturing you first. This . . . this will make her change her mind."