Page 50 of The Shadow of Polaris

Arcturas, now stirring from her own sleep, rolled to her back and straightened her legs into the air.

“Yes, thank you for last night.” I trailed off, my cheeks burning. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“I’m not.” He smiled, brushing his fingers down the curve of my hip. “I’m glad I could be there for you.”

I bit my lip, trying to settle the ache now throbbing through me.

“What was that beast?” I asked, swallowing hard at my dry throat.

“I’m not sure, but Tethys definitely sent it. It stank of her magic.” His nose crinkled at the thought. “It’s probably best if we stick together from now on. No running off in a fury.”

I punched his arm, my lips curling into a smile that matched his. “Rather than running away, next time I’ll just knife you where you stand.”

His eyes flickered with darkness and a mischievous grin wrinkled across his face.

“What a violent creature you are. Careful with that mouth or I may hold you captive in this bed all day.” His voice was raw as his fingers squeezed the muscle of my thigh.

“You act as if that wasn’t my plan already,” I whispered, leaning into his touch.

Aryx pulled me against him, lowering his lips to mine. As his fingers began their exploration beneath the covers, Arcturas grunted beside me, jabbing her hind leg into my back.

“I think this will have to wait,” I sighed, elbowing the wolf off the bed. Snarling, she trotted to the door and sat facing us, the yellow of her eyes burning holes into me. I rolled out of bed, dressing quickly before she became too restless.

“I’ll grab us some breakfast and meet you out front. Procyon usually meets with his council in the early mornings. If we hurry, we might catch him,” Aryx said, throwing the covers off himself.

I stopped in my tracks to watch as the naked half-god stretched away the stiffness in his arms. Tendons and muscles shifted across his back as he reached over his head. My fingers trembled as he turned to face me, sun beams highlighting the fullness of his physique. He was a warrior through and through. Hardened from battlefields and wars of the past.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t look at me like a piece of meat.” He raised his brow at my fingers, now stroking the bottom of my lip.

I snapped my jaw shut and threw my hand in the pocket of my trousers. Clearing my throat, I looked at the floor and swiped at the beads of sweat running down the nape of my neck.

“I’ll be outside,” I hissed, swinging the door open and rushing down the stairs.

Arcturas sprinted for the pasture, startling Kratos with her yips. The two leapt at one another, a blur of midnight tangled with a gleaming white mass. I breathed in. The crisp autumn scent tickled my nose and mourning doves cooed their lonely tunes.

The Autumn Realm was said to be beautiful, but the flames of color that painted the rolling horizon stole my breath entirely. With smoke meandering from quaint stone cottages, the city felt like an invitation to sip mulled cider beneath a warm flannel blanket and tell ghost stories around a roaring fire. I pictured a quiet future here filled with chilled, misty mornings, and walks through harvest fields.

“Cook gave me the strangest look when I asked if she had any raw chicken livers,” Aryx said behind me, interrupting my daydream. He tossed a scrap to Arcturas. Jumping to catch it, she tore into the meat voraciously.

“Here, eat. You’ll need your strength today.” Aryx handed me a cranberry scone.

My empty stomach grumbled with delight as I broke the pastry in half and nibbled on the corner.

“You ready for this?” I asked, crumbs falling from my mouth.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, latching our saddle bags to Kratos.

The road to Procyon’s temple was rocky and unkempt. Ankle high piles of withered, brown leaves crunched beneath Kratos’s powerful hooves as we traveled into the heart of the realm. Canissa bustled with farmers tending their livestock. My mouth watered as we passed wooden cottages, fresh with the scent of baking bread.

Beyond vast fields of golden wheat, the stone temple nestled into its hillside. Only a round stone door marked its entrance.

“If you’re noticed before we reach Procyon himself, things might get interesting. Be ready for a fight,” Aryx said, clicking his reins to lead Kratos over a narrow brook. Minnows nibbled at the green murk pooling around its smooth grey stones.

He trotted to the temple’s entrance, slowing to a halt before a young guard dressed in uniform grey. As we jumped off our horse, I pulled the hood of my cloak over my face, hoping the boy wouldn’t recognize me.

“We’re here to see Procyon,” Aryx said to him, “We have an urgent message from Ursae.”

“King Procyon isn’t taking visitors today. The royal court is meeting and they are not to be disturbed,” he squeaked, straightening his wooden spear across his chest.

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