Wicked (Eternal Guardians #9) - Elisabeth Naughton Page 0,25
locked her in.
Heart racing, she stood still in the middle of the room as his footsteps faded down the stairwell. A heavy silence surrounded her. One that drown out even her rapid pulse. One that threatened to overwhelm her if she let it.
Breathe. Focus. Remember who you are. Think like the Guardians who came before you...
Except...
She wasn’t a guardian. They’d yet to accept her. She might have the markings, but she still wasn’t one of them. Which meant... Any hope she had of escaping was entirely up to her.
She blew out a slow breath and looked up and around her opulent prison cell. This was not how she thought her night would go when she’d headed to that club in the human world. Never in a million years would she have predicted she’d end up trapped. In a castle tower. Like some wimpy fairytale heroine. Like a damsel in distress. By Zagreus of all people.
Submission or death...
He thought he could back her into a corner, scare her? Well, fuck him. Fuck everyone in this miserable place. He didn’t know a thing about her.
A rising, rolling anger built inside her, one that put any she’d had before to shame. Those were not her only choices. She wouldn’t let them be her choices.
Regardless of what her father thought, regardless of what the Argonauts thought, she was a warrior. And she wasn’t about to abandon Max to Zagreus’s satyrs. She could save herself and then save him. After all, it was what she’d been born to do. It was her destiny.
And it was way past time she proved that to the world.
Chapter Five
Zagreus nearly slammed into Ana on the stairs.
Drawing up short, he stared down at the fair-haired nymph dressed in the flimsy white garment all nymphs wore and frowned. “Took you long enough.”
“Aia said you needed two of us. I went to find Ida.”
He glanced toward the dark-haired nymph at Ana’s back, several steps down in the cramped stairwell, looking anywhere but at him. He’d seen her before, but she was as unremarkable as the rest of the nymphs in this place. Thankfully, the child was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t sure he had the patience to deal with her at the moment.
“You,” he said to the brunette.
“Ida,” the brunette said sheepishly, still not looking at him.
“Right. Go get bathing supplies and fresh garments for the female in the tower. Not what you two are wearing.”
“I...” The brunette’s worried gaze shifted to Ana, who’d turned on her step to look down at her, then shifted back to Zagreus. “I don’t know her size, My Prince.”
“Taller than you. Slightly thinner.”
She looked toward Ana again with wide eyes then quickly bowed. “Yes, My Prince.”
He hated how skittish some of these nymphs were.
As the brunette rushed off, he told himself it wasn’t his problem and turned his attention back to Ana. “The female in the tower has a unique marking somewhere on her body. I want to know what it is and where it’s located.”
Ana’s brow wrinkled. “And just how am I supposed to figure that out?”
“Creatively.”
Ana blew out a breath and glanced around the narrow stairwell. “I guess I could charm her.”
“No magick.”
Her gaze snapped to his. “Why not?”
Zagreus worked to keep his temper in check. He didn’t like answering to anyone, least of all a nymph, but on this he knew he had to give her something or she’d go gossiping to her friends. “Because I already used a few spells on her, and I don’t want her brain turned to mush.”
Too much magick had a tendency to do that, especially to weaker races. It made the nymphs stupid. And with the satyrs all it did was feed their aggression. He’d learned that the hard way.
Not that Zagreus thought the female up in the tower was weak, per se. She was Argolean, and Zeus had chosen the first heroes from the Argolean race as warriors to defend and protect humans from threats of the Underworld. But he wasn’t willing to take any chances with his prisoner.
Ana’s gaze narrowed on Zagreus’s face. “She means something to you.”
His jaw clenched. Ana was a nymph, not immortal but otherworldly, and since she assisted Zagreus in matters dealing with the nymphs, he’d taught her a few spells to sway them to his way of thinking when needed. But that was as far as his leeway with her extended.
“She’s a prisoner. A valuable one. And it is not your job to question me.” He stepped back so