He swallowed hard as pain choked him. It was a deep-rooted misery that had planted itself firmly inside his soul long ago and wouldn’t let go no matter how hard he tried to pry it loose. “I was born a twin, Mata, and yet I feel so alone. Shouldn’t I feel as if I’m part of something?”
She tsked at him. “You were born almost an hour apart. Unlike Paris, you wanted to come into this world feet first. You were most insistent upon it, in fact. Took an act of the goddess to get you to change your mind and reverse yourself so that I could birth you. And then you wouldn’t feed. But for Apollymi, we would have lost you that first day. The goddess knows, you’ve been stubborn every day since. Like your father, you’ve always wanted to do things on your own terms, with a courage I envy you for. Never lose that. Especially given what you’ll be facing, all too soon.”
Her pale eyes turned serious. “I pray every night that your father finds another way to end this curse Apollo has placed on you and your siblings. I curse all the gods for it, and for the fact that they do nothing to help you. Damn them!”
He gaped at the venom in her tone. Never had she used such language or raised her voice while speaking of the gods before. His mother had always been a gentle, kind soul.
Unless someone threatened her children or they broke a rule. Then she could make his father look weak.
“Life isn’t fair and it’s been exceptionally cruel to my children. But don’t let it sour you. No matter what, Urimou. Enjoy every breath you have, whether a handful or billions. You fight for every one. And when others seek to knock you down, you rise up and know that only you can defeat you. Never give anyone power over you, not for any reason.”
Nodding, he led her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “I will come visit as often as I can.” He meant that, and he prayed it was a promise he could keep. Though he never intended to stay long or step inside her house, he could come and see her from time to time.
“I’ll be here. You know I will and my hearth will always be warm and waiting for you.”
Just as his heart would always heat up with warmth for her.
Urian reluctantly let go and watched as she went inside and closed the door. The latch fell with an echoing sound of finality that cut deep to his soul.
His throat tightened even more as he waited for her to get the fire started. And with every heartbeat, he ached more, hoping he could keep his promise and that he would see her again.
But the life of an Apollite was an uncertain thing. Especially whenever they ventured into the land of the humans. Those who’d made it down to Kalosis had come with terrifying tales of the war between their two races. Of entire Apollite villages being raided during daylight hours where the humans would drag them out into daylight, just to watch them burn.
Humans weren’t content to let them die at twenty-seven. They wanted them gone completely. Their age didn’t matter. Apollite infants had been seized from their cradles and thrown from city walls to sizzle and die beneath the sun they’d been banned from. Suffocated in their cribs. Drowned.
Or worse.
Their women and children had been tied to Apollo’s outdoor altars and left in the sun to blister and die at dawn. The men had been beheaded and ritually sacrificed like animals for slaughter.
Unbelievable stories of horror abounded. Just when Urian thought they couldn’t get any worse, someone came in with one that topped the last one he’d heard.
And it was nothing compared to what the Greeks did to the humans they found who helped his people. He couldn’t imagine what they’d do to his mother for birthing them.
Trates came forward as he rejoined his men. “Are you all right, kyrios?”
He blinked at the question. Like all the Apollites and Daimons in Kalosis, Trates called him “my lord” in Atlantean. A formality his father insisted upon.
Urian nodded. “Just worried about my mata.”
The light finally began to cast shadows in the cottage. She pulled back a curtain to wave at him. Even though he knew she couldn’t see him, he returned the gesture.
Summoning a portal, Urian made sure that his voice carried so that the others with him would hear it. “If anyone ever harms her, I will make what the soldiers did to Ryssa of Didymos and her son look like a gentle caress in comparison to the vengeance I will wreak upon them and their families.”
The haste with which they ran into the portal assured him that they not only heard his words, they believed them.
Good. Because he had every intention of carrying them out. His mother might be human, but she was his mother and he would see her safe, no matter what.
Yet as he looked back one last time to see her loving face framed by candlelight, a horrible feeling of dread went through him. Please, don’t let this be a mistake …
And don’t let this be the last time I see my mother.
Heartsick with fretful worry and anxiety, he followed them to Kalosis.
While his men went home, he ventured to the dark garden where no Apollite was allowed to visit. It was a trek he’d been making every week since the night he’d met Sarraxyn.
Yet this wasn’t Hesperus—the time of night when they normally held their meetings. Not that the risk mattered to him tonight. Urian needed his best friend.
His only friend, really. Other than Davyn. But he had to share Davyn with Paris, and though Davyn was a good friend, Urian knew that in the end, Davyn’s loyalty would always lie with Paris above him. As it should.
Xyn was solely his. He shared her with no one else. Ever. She was always there when he needed her, through thick and thin. And he had no idea how he’d have made it through his life without her.
Everyone should have their own pet dragon. Even if she did threaten to eat him about half the time.
And those were the times when he didn’t get on her nerves.
Since he was intruding at an unscheduled hour, he made sure to spread his scent wide, and to make more noise than he normally would.
“Xyn?” he whispered loudly into the darkness, needing her more now than he ever had before. “You there?”
“Where else would I be, Uri? Not like I can hide.”
He froze at her voice coming from an external source. That was a first. He hadn’t known she even had real vocal cords until now.
“So why are you here? ’Tis not áreos.”
He cleared his throat of the painful knot her question wrought. “My mother left Kalosis tonight, to return to the human realm, and I could really use a friend.”
She appeared by his side. Her scales flowed in the darkness like a vibrant wave that sparkled through the moonless night. You could get us both in so much trouble.
“I know. I’m sorry to be so selfish.” He just couldn’t help it. He needed her.
It’s fine. You’re upset. You shouldn’t be alone when you’re hurting.
And neither should she. Yet she never had anyone around her at all. Not for anything. Urian reached up to cup her jaw and lean against her long, warm neck. He’d never understood why that comforted him the way it did, and yet there was no denying how the mere sensation of her scales against him soothed the beast inside his heart. No one ever made him feel like she did. She was his dearest friend. “I asked Apollymi about freeing you.”
She went still in his arms.
“You were right, Xyn. She didn’t like it.”
I’m surprised you’re still in one piece.
So was he. In fact, Urian cringed at the fury of her violent reaction. “I’m surprised she didn’t feed me to Xedrix. I swear I saw him break out a dish of sauce for it.”
And he had. The goddess’s eyes had turned blood red and her winds had knocked Urian back so fast and furiously, he was amazed every bone in his body hadn’t snapped.
She laughed. Thank you for trying.
“I’m not through. I will find a way to free you yet. It’s not fair for both of us to be cursed here.”
She flicked at his hair with her tail. But at least I’m cursed here with you.
He scoffed at something she always said. How she could remain positive, he’d never understand. “That’s not much of a bright side. Especially to hear my brothers tell it. Or my sister. They’d say it’s the worst sort of hell.”
Xyn scoffed, then vanished so fast that Urian stumbled forward without her to lean against.