Wicked (Eternal Guardians #9) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,119

into a monster.

Hate was a choice. One Talisa had flirted with all her life. One she knew now would only lead her along the same doomed path as Atalanta.

She didn’t want to end up like that. What she wanted was this, what she had here in this place. A real home where people respected her, where they needed her. With someone who didn’t judge her. Who challenged her and made her feel alive. With a god who filled her with so much light, she knew she was finally complete. Not broken and empty and alone, as she’d been for so very long.

All her life, Talisa had felt a kinship with Atalanta because of her situation, because of the markings she’d been born with, because the Argonauts had never taken her seriously. But now…

Now, part of her couldn’t help but think…

Maybe she was never supposed to join them. Maybe the markings on her arms, her gifts, even the Argonauts—though they didn’t realize it—had been leading her here the entire time.

To Ehrendia.

To Zagreus.

To this future, with him.

Nysa moved back to the bed with a stack of clothing. “The nymphs made these for you. They thought you’d be more comfortable in pants, and since the weather’s turning, you need something a bit warmer. Plus, this will be easier for you to wear under the armor.”

Still in a daze, Talisa looked up as Nysa handed her the clothing. “Armor?”

“The strongest leather in the kingdom.” Nysa moved back to the couch and returned with the green leather surcoat, which she laid on the bed.

It was sleeveless, with laces up the front for a tight fit and an attached hood. The hem hit just below the hips, but tapered to the lower back, which would protect the wearer as they moved in battle. There were also matching bracers for the arms, and greaves for the legs.

“Charmed, of course,” Nysa said, “for extra protection.”

Talisa ran her hand over the leather, awed by the workmanship. “They made this? For me?”

Taking the clothing from Talisa’s hands once more, Nysa said, “Come on, let’s see if these fit.”

In a daze, Talisa tugged off the nightgown. The pants were made from some kind of thick dark brown fabric she couldn’t name—tight but easy to move in. The tunic was a lightweight green garment with long sleeves that hit at her hips, laced up the front so it could be closed to her throat or open at her chest, and was decorated with intricate trim and stitch work that resembled the lines and swirls in ivy and grape garlands. There were even new knee-high boots with small heels that were the perfect size.

The outfit was warm and functional, yet luxurious, and as soon as she pulled it on, she felt like royalty. Warrior royalty. The only kind of royalty she’d ever wanted to be.

She left the top open so it showed just a hint of cleavage, then held out her hands and turned to face Nysa. “What do you think?”

“I think it fits you in every way. What do you think?”

Talisa looked down and ran her hands over the rich fabric. “I love it. I can’t believe someone made this.”

A wide smile spread across Nysa’s face. “I’ll be sure to tell the mages you approve.”

Of course the mages had made this. They were the only ones who probably could. She made a mental note to thank them herself.

She looked up, that urgency pushing her all over again. “Where is Zagreus? I really need to talk to him.”

“I’m not sure.”

“But—”

“He left last night after he brought you back here. He hasn’t returned yet.”

That urgency shifted to full on panic. Talisa immediately thought of the lookout he’d taken her to yesterday, the place she instinctively knew was where he went to get away from everyone.

“He’s not up there,” Nysa said.

She turned toward the nymph, who’d already gathered her nightgown for the laundry. “How do you know?”

“Because it’s dark.”

Talisa’s brow wrinkled.

“Another thing you haven’t figured out yet, huh?” Nysa smirked. “It was built for him. It lights up whenever he’s there. Though since you came into his life, it’s been a whole lot brighter than it ever was before.”

Talisa stepped to the window and looked up at the waterfall and the lookout above, dark against the rocks. She had no idea what the nymph meant. Then she thought of what Nysa had told her before. And what she’d learned since.

Ehrendia…

Light…

It wasn’t possible. He was the Prince of Darkness. Though even as she told herself no,

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