The Dragon Legion Collection(13)

Alexander stood by the doorway and breathed deeply, familiarizing himself with everything in the house in an attempt to correct his oversight. He smelled now the three slaves in the house, two in the kitchen and one outside. He smelled the olive presses in the storage room, the basis of Cetos’ trade. He smelled the burro being led by the slave at the outer door to a lean-to where it would be stabled.

The evidence had been in the house, but Alexander had been too consumed with desire for his wife to notice it.

He had never met Cetos, but had heard his name. He knew him to be a merchant, much older than Katina, and a man who had been content to offer to marry the woman whose family believed she should serve the gods. He remembered also that Katina had disliked Cetos—or at least the differences in their ages—from their first encounter.

Yet she had chosen Cetos in the end.

She had pursued Cetos.

He supposed that had to be a measure of her desperation. He had abandoned her with an infant son. The fault was his, both that she had made such a marriage and that speaking of it put such shadows in her eyes. He’d heard the accusation in her tone, and her conviction that she’d had little choice.

The fact was that Katina had been poorly served, and Alexander was to blame. Eight years with no tidings? He couldn’t say that his faith would have been stalwart in her place.

Alexander might have chastised himself and regretted his choices—even though he knew he hadn’t really had a choice—but he smelled the brimstone of anger.

A man’s anger.

The scent teased his nostrils and drew him closer to the door. A heavy footstep sounded on the cobblestones, and a slave murmured to a man who responded in an impatient voice. Alexander stood silently in the shadows of the doorway, knowing who it must be. Outside, Katina stood with her hands folded before herself and her head bowed, a demure pose that made her almost unrecognizable as the opinionated and outspoken woman he loved.


Anger lit within Alexander that Cetos wanted Katina to be anything other than what she was. His prize of a wife was still poorly served, but now by this husband.

A much older man stepped into the courtyard and surveyed it with dissatisfaction. His face was creased in lines of discontent and there was something mean about his mouth. He was a large and swarthy man with small eyes. Katina hastened to remove his cloak, speaking to him in a subservient manner that Alexander despised.

He remembered all too clearly how she had averted her gaze when he’d asked if Cetos had been good to her. One glance at them together told Alexander the truth. The man was like a seething bull, filled with violence and seeking only a target for his wrath.

He wondered whether Katina had felt the weight of this man’s hand and his own fury grew.

Alexander knew his valiant Katina would take blows herself to save any other soul in the household, even a slave. She would invite them, to protect another. Had she done as much to save Lysander? The idea that she would be in a situation that might compel her to do as much infuriated Alexander, never mind that he was responsible for it. He clenched his fists at his sides, feeling the shimmer of the change.

He caught a whiff of a deep and rotten smell and his eyes widened in surprise. Was Cetos a Slayer? How could that be? There would be no Slayers for at least a thousand years, until some of the Pyr turned against mankind. All the same, the residue of the scent clung to Cetos, like the scent of a wood fire lingering in one’s cloak the next day.

There were no Slayers in this time. Alexander chose to distrust his impression. Cetos must have visited some foul place on his travels and that was the scent that clung to him. A horrible one, but not Slayer.

Despite his rationalization, the scent put him on edge. He felt himself hovering on the cusp of the shift, ready to fight to defend his mate.

One thing was for certain: Alexander wasn’t leaving this house again without ensuring Katina’s safety forever. He would see justice served, even if it meant revealing his secret to her abruptly and without explanation. He wished too late that he had told her the truth years before, but Pelias had always counseled secrecy.

He had the power to set her free of this man and he would use it. Whether Katina wanted him as her husband afterward was something he couldn’t anticipate.

That didn’t affect his resolve.



* * *



Katina knew she’d made a mistake in welcoming Alexander with such passion. Her excuse was that she’d been overwhelmed by her love for him, and her relief that he was returned. She’d never been able to hide her emotions well, and with Alexander, she felt so much that she couldn’t contain her feelings at all.

She knew though that no explanation could excuse her infidelity.

One look at the expression on Cetos’ face filled her with dread. He was a merchant who didn’t abide any situation in which he received less than his due. Katina saw the glint in his eyes and knew he suspected her of cheating him of his full measure.

Katina raced to take his cloak from his shoulders, doing her best to appear demure. That usually pleased him, although it wasn’t an easy manner for her to adopt.

“Where is your son?” he asked with impatience. “Doesn’t he come to greet me?”

“Lysander is gone,” she admitted, hoping the news would improve his mood.

It didn’t.

“What is this?” he demanded, seizing her arm.

Katina didn’t understand his anger, although she didn’t doubt it. He’d never grabbed her so roughly before and she didn’t like the change. “They came from Sparta...”