The Centaur Queen (The Dark Queens #7)(37)

I smiled at the prickling of his flesh. It was still dark out, but the night would soon give way to light. In no time, we’d be back on our journey, and though I wished desperately to live in this moment, I knew we had to take what few moments we could get.

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “I love your hands, your cock, your mouth, and all the wonderful things you did to me tonight. But soon, we arrive at Gnósi, and I cannot help but wonder about the woman for whom you sacrificed so much.”

The smile that had played about his eyes slowly faded with each word spoken, until finally he looked sad, haunted, and far away from me. I instantly regretted bringing her up. And yet, I would be a liar if I claimed I wasn’t also intensely curious.

I wanted to see my male happy again. I wanted to free his sister, and to do that, I needed to know more. I needed to know everything.

“What do you wish to know?”

I shrugged. “Why is she there?”

He twitched and looked over my shoulder, but his hand continued to stroke my collarbone. I sighed, relaxing into his delicious touch.

“She fell in love, Tymanon.”

“Oh.” I blinked. That had been the very last thing I’d expected to hear. “To another satyr?”

“No.” He looked back at me, eyes holding mine. “No. To a hybrid ogre. Tronos.” His lips thinned and his nose curled, and I knew that whoever this Tronos was, Petra did not like him at all.

I chewed on my bottom lip. “And... what happened?”

“Tronos took ill and died, poisoned. Myra was beyond herself with grief. I begged her not to do anything foolish, to let it be and learn to heal. In truth, I was relieved, I’m ashamed to say. I was relieved my sister would finally come back to me, finally break away from her silly fantasies of love and simply be the satyr she was meant to be. She promised me she would.”

He paused, and I knew the next part would be difficult for him.

“So she went to the Fates, to ask for him back?” I guessed, and he nodded.

Rubbing a curl of my hair between his thumb and finger, he didn’t look at me for several long seconds. Finally, he said, “Yes, she did. If I’d known what she was about, I would have stopped her. But she fled in the night, leaving behind only a note of farewell.”

I didn’t want to push, but I was intensely curious. How had Myra wound up a prisoner of the Fates? What had happened to her beloved Tronos?

He looked at me, giving me a grim smile. “I have never shared her story with another.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “you can... you don’t—”

“No.” He frowned. “No. You should know. I do not want there to be secrets between us, Tymanon.”

I kissed his cheek, a soft press of lips only, but enough, I hoped, to let him know I was here, and it was safe to tell me anything.

He trembled, tossing me a grateful smile. “I discovered my sister’s plight when I arrived at Gnósi and spoke with the Fates. Myra is quick and very bright. She passed all her challenges. But in truth, I do not believe they were her true challenges.”

I cocked my head. “Why not?”

“Because they were far too easy for her. The Fates wanted her to succeed, wanted to grant her request to bring Tronos back.”

“But that makes no sense. They aren’t known for their altruism.”

He thinned his lips. “No, they aren’t. They needed her, and I suspect they knew all along what the outcome would be. You see, Myra begged for Tronos’ life back, which they granted. But in order for Myra to live out her days with him as a free woman, they demanded a weighing of their hearts.”

“Weighing of hearts? But why?”

He sighed before slipping a curl of hair behind my ear and framing my face tenderly. “To see if their love was equal. Only true love would free them. Myra’s heart was full of love for Tronos.”

“Oh, I see,” I whispered, gliding my fingers over his lips to stop him from saying the rest. “And so she became their prisoner?”

A muscle in his cheek twitched visibly several times before he ground out, “Yes.”

Myra was punished for loving too much. No wonder Petra held no love for Tronos. Myra’s mate had walked free while she had paid dearly just for falling in love with the wrong man.

It was tragic, and just the sort of play I could see the Fates making. They were wily if you didn’t know you walked into their trap, and there was always a trap, just like there would be for us.

I wished I could say I knew what our future held, but I couldn’t. All I knew was I would do everything in my power to acquire Galeta’s answers and free my lover’s sister. The rest I’d leave in fate’s hands.

“There must be a way to free her,” I said.

He swallowed hard, looking at me for at least ten seconds without blinking. “There is. To free her, one must voluntarily take her place.”

My blood ran cold, and I curled my hand over his heart, shaking my head. “No. You will not even consider that, Petra. You will not free your sister in that manner. You cannot.”

“I must. It wasn’t fair what happened to her, Tymanon. She sacrificed herself for love and is now being tortured for it. I have failed my sister. I will not fail her again.”

Growing angry with him, my voice rose. “But if you do that, then you would still never see her again. She would be freed, and you the prisoner. It is a fool’s errand. Trust me, Petra, there is always another way.”