Page 165 of Monsters in Love

Asterion’s heart grew heavy with love for his mate… and for his sister whom he spent so many centuries resenting and mourning. She had loved him and showed him the only way she could when confronted with an impossible choice. Knowing Vicky, he understood how difficult that decision had to have been to make.

“Come,” he murmured gruffly. “Enough talk of sad things and worries. I will be fine. Let me show you where we will be staying. From what I recall, our new home is quite comfortable. There is even a vast garden to supply offerings for pilgrims and for the temple.” He hesitated thoughtfully. “It is possible that some of the wildlife here has been established for offerings and to feed pilgrims as well. I recall seeing hens and quail among the grasses here in my youth, and now there appears to be rabbits that are well established. I may still hunt in the lower halls from time to time to not overtax the animals here, but the food here is plentiful.”

Taking her small hand in his, they walked across the meadow and climbed the marble steps that led up the rise to the temple. Just within, he could see the statues of the gods and more who had occupied the chamber of the dancing floor, but he did not enter. He would not until he was properly cleaned. Instead, he tugged his mate along with him, circling its perimeter, passing by the cool and hot springs that fed into the pools on a lower slope. Just past that was a small, elegant house that looked as it had in his youth. Its columns and walls were painted with bold stripes, red and blue with beautiful images of crocus blooms and festive scenes and men and women in celebration.

There, just within the courtyard, was another spring and pool. This one he knew was designed so that it constantly cycled, drawing anything unclean down through the far end where the mosaic floors disappeared at the edge of a crevice. Although the water returned from the ground pure through the bubbling spring, there was a second spring just behind the rear kitchens that provided water for the house. He suspected that much of what lay beneath consisted of massive reservoirs of water that helped sustain life there.

Vicky cast a longing look at the pool, and he figured it was as good of a place as any to allow his mate to rest. The water maintained a comfortable temperature, and the couches off to the side were layered with fleecy mats and soft cushions, all enchanted too by Ariadne in her tireless work before her departure so that the fabrics were as new and fresh as he remembered them.

Turning his mate to face him, he smoothed his hands down her arms and smiled. “You remain here. Bathe and rest. If you get restless or hungry, the garden and fountains are just beyond the rear down on the other side of the kitchens. I will return soon.”

Her brow wrinkled with concern as she peered up at him. “You’re leaving now?”

He nodded, squeezing her shoulders gently. “It is best to do so now while everything is in turmoil, and none are likely to notice me digging through the crumbled walls for supplies.”

The sigh she gave him was reluctant and unhappy, but she did not argue. She cast her eyes down toward the pool, and he tucked his knuckle under her chin, lifting her head to meet his eyes.

“I will not be long,” he assured her.

“What if…” she began but he silenced her, pressing his mouth against hers.

He was not capable of kissing as humans did but the simple press of mouths he could do and the responding quiver of her body as her arousal tinted the air. Drawing back, he lifted his hand, caressing the side of her cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“Nothing can keep me from returning,” he assured her.

He left her there at the side of the pool, his strides quickening as they took him farther from her. As he had promised, though the halls resounded with chaotic cries from those creatures haunting the labyrinth, Asterion was able to make his way with ease back to what was left of the place that had been his home. He expected to feel rage when he looked upon it, but when his eyes fell on the broken rocks barring his entrance, he surprisingly felt nothing.

It was not home any longer. His home was nowhere else except with his mate. A smile pulled at his mouth, and he bent down to grasp the first boulder, hauling it effortlessly out of his way. Though their flight through the labyrinth had tired him, it had not completely depleted him it seemed—or his time in the well of the gods had restored him more than he thought because he made quick work digging out a passage that allowed him access into the main chamber.

As expected, everything was in ruin, but he was pleased to see that many things remained intact. He located several sacks from his storage and filled one entirely with furs before turning to fill the others with the medicines he had collected and dried. Many of the plants had managed to survive, and it would take many trips to transplant them, but he left them for the time being. He also left the bowls and utensils until he could take better stock of what the house had, but it was unlikely he would need them. Instead, he gathered his clothes and the leather tunics he had begun crafting for Vicky and, with some luck, was able to dig out her astragaloi.

Dice, he mentally corrected.

Although he was fortunate that the magic that allowed them to converse worked just as well in the well of the gods, he would need to know her language when they escaped.

And they would. The thought which had begun to take shape as a kernel in the darkness of his mind and in his nightly dreams had become fully formed after the attack of the labyrinth. He would not suffer his mate to live caged within the well of gods, regardless of how pretty of a prison it made.

One way or another, he would free her of this place.

Throwing the sacks over his shoulder, he bent to grab his labrys that had fallen from the wall, the gleam of its blade dulled with dust, and slipped back through the hole in the crumbled wall. He took no more than two steps before he felt eyes on him, and he stilled, his own gaze searching the darkness.

“You might as well show yourself, Barbasas,” he called out.

There was a shuffle and scatter of stones before slowly the satyr stepped out from the shadows, his expression grim. He glanced toward the ruins behind Asterion and inclined his head toward them.

“This was the price you wished to pay keeping that female?”

“It is a small one.”

The male’s expression darkened. “Our home likewise suffered much damage and we lost three beloved members of our flock and many more were injured because of your ‘sacrifice,’ minotaur.”

Asterion inclined his head in acknowledgment, sympathy stirring in his breast. For all that he had no compunction about killing satyrs who attacked him, he never wished loss on anyone.

“You will still not do what it is right and surrender the female, will you?” the satyr demanded.

“I will not sacrifice my mate,” Asterion replied firmly. “I will not feed my own heart to this monster who imprisons us all.”

“Not all of us have the gifts that were given to you by Ariadne,” the other male rebuked, and he could not fault him in it.

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