“Greedy harpy. I’ll give you all the more you can handle.” Savage need darkened his expression as he plunged another finger inside her. “When I reciprocate myself, you’re going to watch me.”

  What a tantalizing thought. If only she could think past...he...she... Too many years had passed since she’d experienced fingers and stretching and pressure. But never had she experienced sexual banter, challenge and fevered commands at the same time. Never had she been with an ultra-intense warlord who looked like he’d found his new favorite toy.

  “You think I’m a decadent treat, Immortal?” she asked between panting breaths.

  “Never sampled anything better, nymph,” he growled against her slick flesh.

  Nails scraping through his silken hair, hips rising to meet his seeking tongue. “Don’t stop. Need this. Need this so much.”

  No, no. She didn’t need anything. She... Can’t think. Was this...was she lust-drunk? Her mind was fogged, every fragmented thought branching into another. More. Don’t stop. Give me. Need. No. Want. Yes, yes, yes!

  He sucked on her at the same time he plunged those fingers deep and...bliss! Pressure broke, pleasure flooding her entire body.

  “It’s even sweeter now,” he said, growing more frenzied with every swipe. Driving her from satisfied to desperate in a blink.

  Not enough. So empty. “Maybe...maybe let’s have sex, after all. Okay? All right?” The words left her, her newfound strength and confidence no match for this deluge of rapture. Won’t beg, won’t beg, won’t beg. “We can play just the tip. What do you think? That’s a good plan, isn’t it? Just the tip? I’ll make you feel so good.”

  “No sex.” Features stark, he leaped to his feet. His body seemed to have doubled in size, his skin taut over muscle as he tore open his leathers.

  Her jaw dropped when his erection sprang free. The size of this male. “Let’s definitely have sex immediately. Yes?” She reached for him—No?

  The Astra avoided her grip. “Will feel you against me, nothing more,” he told her, his voice practically inhuman. He looked inhuman as he hooked his arms under her knees and spread her legs wider. Desire had removed any filters of humanity.

  He rolled his hips, rubbing his shaft against her, male to female, without penetration, and hissed in a breath.

  He resisted his own desperate needs in order to keep his word to her? Ophelia moaned and thrashed, erupting beneath him, coming again with a scream...but still wanting more. Needing it. “Don’t stop, Halo. Please, please, don’t stop.”

  “That’s right. Say my name. I make you feel this way. Me and no other.”

  * * *

  Frantic need ruled Halo. He struggled to maintain his iron control, but the pleasure... He’d never encountered its like. The female was affecting him. An unwanted internal softening. A jagged ache. A clawing desperation to possess someone, body and soul.

  His usual tension had dissipated completely, replaced by all-consuming desire. Arousal burned in every inch of him, and he could not get enough. Not of this, and not of her. The nymph was a wild thing beneath him, thrashing over the covers, hair like tangled ribbons around her delicate shoulders. A hot flush lent her flawless skin a darker undertone. Her nipples were hard little points, her sex drenched with the desire he’d drawn from her.

  How had he ever settled for subdued trysts? He was...this...nothing compared to it. Because of her.

  Can’t give this up.

  “Halo, Halo, Halo,” she chanted, hooking her legs around him to yank his muscled weight atop her. Brilliant green eyes glazed. “Kiss me.”

  At her nape, he fisted a length of her hair. He angled her head and took her mouth, because he couldn’t not do it. Tongues tangling, he glided his shaft against her wetness, pressing, tormenting, but never entering. Could his fragile control handle penetration? Not yet, not yet. Not until she was ready.

  “Halo!” Another scream of rapture broke from her. Another climax achieved.

  The sight of her, lost to the pleasure, left him nigh mindless. He wrestled with the urge to follow her over the edge. Not ready. Here, now, he wasn’t simply without strain; he had no gears. They’d ceased to exist, and it was ecstasy. But as he rubbed and thrust and ground against her, his body didn’t care if he was prepared for the end or not. Seed erupted from him, lashing over her belly. Ribbon after ribbon after ribbon, as if he’d saved a lifetime supply.

  When he had emptied himself, he collapsed and rolled to his side next to her. As he panted, his heart racing, he expected the gears to return. Instead, bliss cascaded over him. He couldn’t think. Could only smile. Euphoric state? I’m there. But what was that strange feeling in his chest?

  “Halo?” A soft entreaty with a hint of vulnerability.

  With effort, he blinked into focus and realized a good amount of time had passed. Ophelia was mostly cleaned up and pliant, her body curled into his.

  Magnificent female. He reached out to smooth a lock of hair from her cheek, a beam of sunlight striking his palm. He frowned. No stardust. Why? It made no sense. She must be his gravita. The way he had reacted to her...

  He wanted her to be his gravita.

  Crrrrank. The gears. Not gone, just hidden. Now they chugged into action, everything in his chest pulling tighter. In seconds, the strain was nearly unbearable.

  She noticed his preoccupation with his hand, paled, and jolted upright. “Well. I’m gonna clean up for real. Alone. I mean it. Enter the bathroom, and I’ll straight up murder your future children. And there’s no need for us to talk about what happened. In fact, let’s pretend it didn’t. Okay? Yes. Good plan. Okay, bye for now.”

  Naked, she scrambled out of the bed and raced to the bathroom, where she sealed herself, leaving Halo alone and floundering.

  He flopped to his back and rubbed his aching chest, scowling at the ceiling. What was he going to do now?

  12

  What have I done?

  Ophelia’s wings fluttered so swiftly they buzzed. The rest of her trembled. She was hornier than ever and wildly adrift as she twisted different knobs in the shower. When water finally rained from a spout, already steaming, she dunked under the spray. A good washing should free her of the most powerful flood of pleasure she’d ever experienced, this awful vulnerability, and the remnants of Halo’s spunk, all at the same time.

  Halo, the Astra who had rocked her world without producing stardust for her. No stardust, no gravita. She’d hoped...she’d taken a risk...she’d crashed and burned.

  Satisfaction waltzed with contentment, the two seamlessly entangled and farther out of her reach than ever before. On top of that, she had a third set of relationship woes to cart around for the rest of eternity. Remembering, hungering, comparing everything and everyone to the Astra, and finding them all lacking.

  The Immortal had warmed her from the inside out—he still did. A low-grade fever continued to heat her from the inside. Her constant chill? Gone. But soon, the heat would fade and the chill would return. She couldn’t, wouldn’t, allow herself to seek more. She wasn’t his gravita; someone else was. The moment he met that someone, Ophelia would be tossed aside. Forgotten. No reason to try for something romantic.

  The saddest part was she had known better than to do this. She wasn’t like other harpies. She couldn’t take a lover here and there without consequences. Arousal short-circuited her brain, reducing her to a ravenous state.

  Her goals hadn’t changed. Although, now that she thought about it, she was recovering from the quote, unquote most powerful flood of pleasure she’d ever experienced much faster than she’d ever recovered from an everyday, average orgasm. She shouldn’t be coherent until morning. At least!

  Another benefit of her transformation and death? The ability to snap out of the “nymph haze” and control any residual desires. That...didn’t suck. And really, the abstinence thing didn’t need to last forever now. No, Halo wasn’t her male. But someone else was. One day, she would find him and rediscover heat and passion and satisfaction.

  Ophelia used the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. The sugar scrub, too. And the previous owner’s jasmine-scented oil. Basically, a spa treatment. Because what else was she going to do? Snuggle with Halo?

  Tremors invaded her limbs. When the water chilled, Ophelia abandoned the stall and raided the spacious walk-in closet with rack after rack of clothing in an array of styles. Gorgeous gowns. Slinky man-bait bodysuits. T-shirt with slits for wings. Shorts. The jeans looked miles too long.

  T-shirt and shorts it is. Going without underwear, Ophelia shimmied into the top, the material pulling taut over her plump breasts. The soft cotton abraded sensitive nipples. New aches bloomed.

  Ignore. Shoes. She needed shoes.

  “I’m a few minutes too late for the reverse strip show, I see.” The familiar voice came from behind her, every word laden with smugness.

  Erebus.

  Aggression rippled through her wings, and she whirled. He stood mere feet away, wearing his patented evil overlord smile and a black robe. His bulky frame consumed too much space.

  He might not get to transform her into another beast for the rest of the week, but he could certainly cause trouble, as predicted by Halo. Though part of her demanded she alert the Astra, she stayed silent. This god was the golden ticket to victory. Halo’s task. Ophelia’s dream. She wasn’t taking herself out of the game.

  “As the wheels turn in your mind, let me help your common sense win the debate,” Erebus said, amused. “No, you shouldn’t call for the Astra. He can’t sense me or hear us. I’ve soundproofed the room.” His craggy features brightened. “Or perhaps I’m wrong and you should invite him into the conversation. You can expound upon your adventures as the lioness and explain you’re soon to become a hydra.”

  Ophelia readied her claws for attack. “Don’t think to call my bluff. You don’t want him to know what you do to me.” Otherwise, Erebus would’ve gotten his brag on long before now.

  Or he merely bided his time...

  Foreboding prickled her nape.

  “Why didn’t you tell him?” he asked, thoughtful.

  “I don’t need to share my reasons with you.”

  “True.” His gaze slipped past her, looking somewhere she couldn’t see. The cold draft kicked up, infiltrating her bones. Her teeth chattered. Appearing a bit unhinged, he muttered, “I can see only the what, never the why. Move the pieces. Complete the puzzle.”

  Pieces? Puzzle? “Um. Would you like a moment alone with your insanity?”

  He blinked into focus and smiled. “Nice collar. It stops me from summoning you properly. But there are two inherent flaws with this form of personal protection. Today, I’ll demonstrate the first. In person, the disk can be forcibly lifted. I’ll have no trouble overseeing your transformation tonight.”

  Whoa, whoa, whoa. She was to battle Halo tonight? Mere minutes after rolling around with him in bed? But...she didn’t want to battle him right now. There were too many feelings left to conquer.

  “Aren’t you supposed to wait seven days between labors?” she demanded.

  “Yes and no. Seven days from now is also today.” His smile widened, slightly maniacal. “Loopholes are fun, aren’t they? But don’t worry. You’re going to be a far better opponent this go-round. A hydra with the savagery of a lioness.”

  “You can’t do this,” she grated. Halo wasn’t ready.

  “On the contrary. I can do anything. But you...you’d like to. You already feel the creature’s effects on you, do you not? Imagine the power at your fingertips when you are imbued with every beast.”

  Dread warred with eagerness. Nine of Hercules’s twelve labors had involved beasts. Strength that was hers for the taking.

  You’re so weak, Ophelia.

  Not anymore, sister. She had a plan, and she was sticking to it. No matter what. Collect as much strength as possible, turn on the god, save harpykind, win Halo’s task, and bask in the glory. “What do you expect from me?”

  “Cooperation, harpy, nothing more.”

  No. There was absolutely something more. Because honestly? He didn’t exactly need her cooperation. Did he seek bragging rights? A tidbit to later lord over Halo? The old, “I won over your girl” trick.

  “You’ll find I make a wonderful ally,” he continued, giving her the hard sell. “Oh, I may strike you as pitiless upon occasion—and in the coming minutes—but you’ll thank me for it one day. I’ve peered into the future, you see, and selected the best paths. I will win in the end, I promise you.”

  “And if I refuse to cooperate?” she asked, knowing she shouldn’t appear too eager.

  He shrugged, unconcerned. “I’ll use you, anyway.”

  “Yeah. I figured that.” To beat this god, she needed to learn his weaknesses and tells. The way Halo had learned hers. The best way to do that? Attack. And there was no better time.

  Ophelia didn’t spend precious moments debating what to do. She leaped, raking her claws over his throat. Skin and muscle tore, hot blood pouring. He evinced no reaction, however. Just smiled wider and wrapped a stalwart arm around her waist, locking her against him. As she struggled, he tightened his grip, cracking her ribs.

  “Wrong choice,” he told her, sounding delighted. “But don’t worry. I won’t punish you for it. I understand your reluctance. To prove my goodwill, I’ll even ensure you suffer no heinous deaths for the full week after this. A time to get to know your new lover better. For now...”

  As phantoms appeared, grabbing her arms and legs to hold her in place, he withdrew a dagger. The dagger.

  The two sides of her warred. Fight harder—or carry on? What was this weapon, exactly? What all could it do? How did it change her?

  “Ready?” He shoved the tip of the dagger under her skin, beneath the disk—and carved.

  Searing pain swamped her, and she screamed. Black dots swarmed in her vision. She nearly vomited.

  When he finished, a gaping hole decorated her chest, a jagged circle of raw muscle on display. He grinned, his white teeth penetrating her veil of pain. “There. That’s better.” He pressed the blade flat against her chest, no disk in the way.

  Blood gurgled from her mouth, speech beyond her as she wheezed.

  As a soft red glow shone brighter and brighter, he announced, “The primordial hydra, with augmentations.”

  Her pain escalated, rolling through her like thunder. No part of her was unaffected. On her shoulders, skin tore, something growing from her body. Rising. Snapping teeth at the air.

  Boils appeared on her skin only to burst open and hardened into steel-hard scales. Bones lengthened and reshaped. Muscles ripped, sprouting new ones.

  The god backed away from her as the instinct to kill hit. But not Halo. Erebus. All twelve versions of him.

  Twelve? Comprehension dawned. Twelve sets of eyes—twelve heads. Twelve mouths. She licked her tongues over shockingly sharp teeth. Kill.

  “More magnificent than I dared dream,” Erebus said, clapping. “Now be a good girl and do your best to kill our man. Kill Halo Phaninon.”

  Kill Halo. Yes. Halo must die. She caught a whiff of his scent. Sniff, sniff. There.

  Ophelia launched forward and barreled through some kind of an obstacle. In the back of her mind, she heard a trumpet blare. The perfect melody for her mantra. Kill Halo. Kill. Kill...

  Three minutes earlier

  Awaiting Ophelia’s return, Halo paced through the bedroom. He’d righted his clothing, but not his mind. They had things to discuss.

  He glanced at the doorway that blocked the female from his view. This separation from her...he didn’t like it. He wanted his gaze on her always. If Erebus made another play for her...

  What was she doing in there, anyway? Avoiding him? The water had shut off five minutes and thirty-four seconds ago. Did she regret what they’d done together? Did he?

  He hadn’t produced stardust. The harpymph had climax and bolted. His strain hadn’t lessened for long...but he wanted to do everything again.

  How was any of this helping him?

  He scowled. He’d be better off pondering Erebus. How would the god strike next? What was the Bloodmor and what could it do besides harm Halo more than the Blade of Destiny? Had the Bloodmor summoned the lioness, perhaps? Would the weapon summon the other beasts? There must be a link between the two, considering those beasts would help determine whether or not Halo won.

  Apprehension skittered down his spine, and he cast another glance at the bathroom door. “Ophelia?”

  No response. Unacceptable. Halo had waited long enough. Muscles swelling with sudden aggression, he palmed a three-blade and prepared to enter.

  Outside the palace, a trumpet sounded, and he went still. The second test? Now?

  Impossible. Not enough time had passed between labors. Not without a loophole.

  Halo cursed. When no other blasts sounded, he shouted, “Halo Phaninon.” Another battle to the death.

  The foundation shook. No, not just the foundation. The entire room quaked. Something was coming, and it was close.

  He braced—a monster rammed through the bathroom door, pieces of wood flying in every direction.

  “Ophelia!” he shouted, cataloging a wealth of details in a split second. A hydra. From an all-female species, like harpies and Amazons. A smallish she-dragon merged with a massive serpent, making her the size of a shire horse. Twelve heads, each with a mouth full of metal teeth. One body, with two arms and two legs tipped by razored claws. Firstone bands circled her wrists.

  She smelled of some kind of venom and—Roaring, Halo attacked. The harpy’s scent coated this creature.

  Rage surged anew, flooding him with unparalleled strength. Erebus had gotten to her. And Halo had let it happen. His little beauty, dead again. Killed by this hydra after he’d promised to protect her.