Beta Sinta’s face turns thunderous. “The Fisan did that to you?”
“The Fisan royals!” An edge of hysteria is creeping into my voice. I hear it. I hate it. I can’t do anything about it. “They’re the ones who call me Talia. It was Beta Fisa I killed.” Gamma, actually, but that hardly matters now. “Don’t ever call me that. Ever!”
Big, warm hands rise to my cheeks. Long fingers curl around the nape of my neck, their hold on me light yet firm. He tilts my face up, saying in a low, calming voice, “I won’t. It’s all right. You’re Cat. Just Cat.”
“It’s not all right!” I explode, grabbing his wrists. I don’t know if it’s to hold on to him, or to push him away. I do a little of both. “They won’t rest until I’m theirs again. Or dead.” My legs start to shake, making the rest of me tremble. “They’ll never take me alive. Never!”
A note of frantic conviction hangs in the air between us. It’s thick, like fear.
Beta Sinta makes a soothing sound and slides his fingers into my hair, smoothing them over the back of my head and sending all sorts of misguided sensations spiraling around my body.
Leaning down, he lightly drops his forehead against mine. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
He sounds so sure. I resist the temptation to lean into him, to find shelter in his arms, my internal battle complicated by the knowledge that he wouldn’t push me away. He’s still cradling my head, gently massaging. We’re breathing each other’s air.
Awareness rushes through me. Heat swirls in my veins, and my stomach tumbles wildly. My eyes close, and my hands slip from his wrists. The left one drops, limp. The right one hovers and then presses against his chest. Under it, his heart thumps hard and then beats faster. I open my eyes and stare at my fingers, wondering what they’re doing there, touching him, absorbing his warmth.
“Never promise things you can’t deliver,” I whisper.
“I can try,” he whispers back, and I hate myself because I smile. Tension drains from me, leaving me far too aware of his height and strength, of his subtle scent, and of the fact that this man kissed me.
He lifts his head and strokes my jaw, the touch featherlight despite the power in his hands and the calluses on his fingers. “Tell me about the Fisan royals. The more I know, the better I can defend you.”
“I can defend myself.”
He smiles. It’s lopsided, and more heart-stopping than I care to admit. “Is that how you got caught by a warlord with a magic rope?” he teases.
Scowling, I shove hard against his chest where my hand is still resting.
“Tell me about the Fisans,” he says again, voluntarily stepping back.
I shiver. “Later.” I glance around Selena’s tent. “There are names I don’t want lingering in the air.”
He nods in understanding. “Soon, then.”
I nod back. There’s no escaping it. He’s too damn stubborn.
Watching me, Beta Sinta backs toward the tent opening. I can still feel his fingers on my skin, rough and masculine, and I have to quell the urge to touch where he touched. It’s unsettling. I bite my lip.
“Cat?” There’s enough warmth in his voice to send my heartbeat into dangerous territory.
“Yes?”
“You do a good job of defending yourself.”
I nod. “I’ve been taught well. I’m the favored child.”
“Of Poseidon?”
Not answering, I turn and swirl my fingertips in the basin of water by my bedside, watching the pattern I make form and fade. Yes, well, of him, too.
CHAPTER 12
We spend three more days recovering. The Sintans camp outside the circus grounds, but I sleep in my old tent. Temporary homecomings are bittersweet. Sometimes it’s better not to go back at all than to have to leave again. I don’t have a choice, though, binding vow or not. Otis may have failed, but Alpha Fisa won’t give up. Andromeda knows I’m in Sinta now. She’s still coming for me, and next time, she’ll send something worse.
My friends gather behind us as we prepare to leave, throwing dirty looks at my Sintan companions. Only Selena’s brow remains unruffled, as if she knows something the rest of us don’t. Before we ride out, she breaks rank and strides toward me.
“This is for you. From Hades.” She drops a small charm into the palm of my hand. It’s a gold figurine of Cerberus. The hound has six ruby eyes, a set for each of its three heads.
I can’t hide my astonishment. “Why is Hades interested in me?”