“Measma, rarely does a single being hold such power alone. Not even you, with all that magic in your veins, could move the mountains.”
His eyes are bright in the broken darkness of the palace as we follow Grimus deeper inside. His hand hovers just beside mine, our skin almost touching. I’m tempted to close the distance, to take his fingers, and when I linger on the thought, I close the distance anyways. To hell with hesitation. He blinks in confusion at me as I curl my fingers with his, holding his hand.
“Whatever they did to you here,” I whisper, “it’s not who you are, nor will it happen again.”
The shock on his face is almost comical. Has no one spoken to the kraken like this before?
“Would you protect me,measma?” he asks, leaning in close.
Smiling, I press my forehead against his when he leans down far enough for me to do so. “You saved me before. Of course I would protect you, even if I was not so good at it.”
He sighs deeply, his warm breath fanning over my face. “I was wrong.”
“About what?” I ask curiously.
“If anyone could move mountains, little human, it would be you.”
Something inside me melts at his words, at his pained admission. Whatever he sees in me, I want to see it too. This monster of the sea, this fearsome creature, sees me as some bright spot of strength, and I don’t know how to handle it, so I do the only thing I know how.
I get awkward.
“Yes, well,” I say, giggling to distract myself from the sudden discomfort, “good thing we don’t need to move the mountains and we can just go through them.”
The smile that curls Zetros’ lips makes something else melt, and I have to clear my throat at the sudden hoarseness there. Never in a million years did I think I would find myself attracted to the monsters meant to kill me, but here I am, lusting after a kraken, a fey, and a minotaur. Hell, I’m in danger if even a single one of them makes an advance. I don’t even need a deal. I’d do it for the fun of it.
“Are you two done canoodling?” Bracken asks as he moves around the furniture across from us. “Because I found something interesting.” We both turn to look as he holds up a large sheet of something. It’s as wide as the length of one arm and longer than I can see. All I know is it drags over the floor on either side where he lifts it.
“What is that?” I ask, stepping closer, my brows furrowed in confusion.
“Naga skin,” Zetros answers. “Not surprising, considering who used to reside here. When they shed, their skin doesn’t break down. Many used to use them for decorations.”
Grimus shakes his head and steps closer. “No, this is fresh. Look at the sheen.” Sure enough, when he grabs a section of it and turns it in the light, there’s a pearlescent sheen to it. “There was a naga in here recently.”
“Or it’s still in here,” Zetros adds, immediately going on alert. “Stay close,measma.”
I do as he says, keeping in step with him as we all scan the rooms around us, searching for the naga in case it’s still here. All I can think about is the one I met at the beginning, Nero. Certainly this will be a different one. As we move, clearing first one room and then another, my eyes wander to the mosaics that decorate each wall. Some of them have tapestries long since decayed with barely any threads left, save for the top ones, while some of the mosaics sparkle like jewels. I’m staring at one, leaning in close to study the red jewel embedded in it that’s the size of my fist. When I turn excitedly to Zetros and say, “It’s a ruby!” I realize just how far away he is from me.
He turns at my exclamation, his eyes on me, but when his eyes widen and trail up, I know I’ve made a mistake. Swallowing my fear, I crane my neck back to look above me.
I see him almost immediately, his long white scales draped across the banister from the second floor and hanging around wherever there’s room. He’s massive, his coils glittering beneath the little light coming inside. His white scales are nothing compared to the body of the man on top of them, though, as he trails down and around me.
“Nero,” I murmur, staring into his toxic green eyes that are slitted like a snake’s.
“Did you miss me,parum anguis?” he asks, his mouth drawing out the S like a hiss.
I’m too scared to ask him what it means as his coils wrap around me, but he doesn’t squeeze or attack, not yet.
The others rush around us, their weapons drawn, prepared to save me.
“Let her go, Nero,” Grimus snarls, his morning star held aloft.
Zetros is tense, his shoulders tight as he stands. He has no weapon, but then again, he doesn’t need one. He promised me that he’s all the weapon he needs.
Bracken, on the other hand, doesn’t seem worried in the slightest. He sighs deeply and takes a seat in one of the chairs, tipping his head back to watch. I furrow my brows at him, and he only winks at me as if we’re in on some little secret.
“I mean her no harm,” Nero offers, but when he looks at me, there’s liquid heat there. “Not unless she’s into such relations.”
Hell, I might be if he keeps looking at me like that.
