I wouldn’t want you to be hurt.”
She had no idea what he meant. No idea why he’d called her princess. Then his knees bent slightly, the muscles in his strong thighs flexed against her own, and he tightened his arms, crushing her to his chest as he pushed off the ground.
Her boots left the dirt. Air streaked past her face. Her brain registered the flash of rock and water and trees rushing by, but it wasn’t until her heels clicked against solid stone that she realized he’d used his god-powers and jumped them to the rocky ledge at the top of the waterfall.
She gasped and pushed back from his chest. He loosened his hold and let her go, but his hand quickly slipped down to wrap around the bindings holding her wrists together so she didn’t fall.
Wide-eyed, she looked from the river of water rushing down the cliff, over the rocks to the right of her feet, then finally to the castle at his back, surrounded by an enormous wall with sentries posted at each tower.
“W-what is all this?” she managed above the roar of water. “Where are we?”
“Home.” He turned and tugged her with him.
He didn’t elaborate, and as they drew closer to the castle, she was too shocked to push for more.
Sentries hustled toward the enormous gate as soon as they were spotted. Guards above on the wall walk hollered down to someone behind the gate. A clank sounded, then the heavy wood doors, both at least three stories high, groaned and pushed inward, revealing a lower bailey lit by torches and an arched bridge over what looked to be another river running in front of an even higher wall and the castle beyond.
“My Prince,” several guards in armor muttered, nodding while Zagreus passed, tugging her behind him. None seemed surprised by her presence. None even bothered to look at the bindings on her wrists.
She wanted to scream at them to help her, but one look at the way they all bowed to Zagreus and backed away told her they were his lackeys and that she’d find no help from them.
Zagreus headed straight for the bridge, hauling her over the stones and past the second gate, then into the main bailey without a word.
She scanned the area, trying to take it all in so she’d know how to escape when the time came, but in the darkness, she couldn’t see anything past the rings of torchlight. She’d been right, though. The bridge spanned another river, this one smaller but flowing fast to join up with the first to spill over the cliff in a wall of water. And it looked deep—not something she could easily cross if the drawbridge’s chains were pulled.
“Master!”
“My Prince!”
Three females appeared through the open castle doors and rushed up to Zagreus, pawing and grabbing at him as he continued to walk. Females, Talisa realized as her attention swung back her captor’s way, who were petite, barefoot, with long curly hair in a variety of colors, and dressed in thin, gauzy gowns that accentuated their curves.
Nymphs.
Talisa’s shock gave way to disgust as Zagreus held up a hand and said, “Yes, my pretties, I’m back.”
“Oh, master,” the one with curly red hair down to her ass cried while she reached for his arm, “we’ve been waiting for you.”
“It’s been so long,” the blonde added, clawing at his chest.
“All for a reason,” he answered, tugging Talisa inside the warm glow of the castle.
Yeah, right. Talisa nearly huffed as she watched the three nymphs all but throwing themselves at Zagreus’s feet. She was in some kind of great hall lit by more torches and a plethora of candles and oil lamps.
Had he put a spell on these brainless bimbos? She’d heard plenty of stories about what Zagreus liked to do with nymphs. They should be running from the monster, not trying to fuck his brains out right in front of her.
Why do you care if he fucks them?
Talisa gave her head a swift shake and reminded herself she didn’t care. All she cared about was getting away from the asshole.
She glanced around the hall with its columns and iron chandeliers and gabled ceiling only to notice other nymphs reclining on couches, reading books, some to her right wearing aprons who looked to be going in and out of another room that had to be a kitchen. And she saw males. Attractive, muscular males sipping wine, chatting and laughing with the nymphs—flirting, really. Males who were as handsome as