“I’m not sure I’ve ever had fun outside of my time with you,” he said.

  “Really?” She jolted to her knees, plump breasts bobbing. Tussled dark hair shimmered in the light. She grinned. “You know what this means, right? I’m the best thing to ever happen to you.”

  She just might be. “Before you, I despised being touched. With you, I seek only more, but it’s never enough. Before you, I took my lovers from behind and struggled to climax. With you, I struggle to stop from climaxing.”

  Her brow knit in confusion. “If you hated being touched, why did you keep a concubine?”

  “A momentary release is better than no release at all.”

  Rubbing against him... “Well. I’m gonna make you so happy you copped to your deep and abiding obsession with me, Astra. I’m gonna show you supergood times today. The best! By tomorrow, you’re not even going to remember a moment you lived without satisfaction.”

  Yes! He wanted this. Satisfaction. Contentment. More. He—A chill dusted him, and he stiffened. Danger!

  “Phantoms.” Halo flashed to his feet beside the bed, donned pants, summoned a T-shirt for Ophelia, and gripped a three-blade.

  Three phantoms ghosted through the wall, one after the other. Near the foot of the bed, they walked in a circle, oblivious to the world around them as they chanted. “Go to Halo, give him message, eat the girl. Go to Halo, give him message, eat the girl. Go to Halo, give him message, eat the girl.”

  Hate the god. Erebus had sent in his minions the second the promise of pure merriment edged within Halo’s clasp.

  He glanced at Ophelia. She wore the shirt and sat on her knees, holding a three-blade she must have pilfered from his closet without his knowledge while gazing longingly at the phantoms.

  An ache erupted in the center of his chest. “Do you want your first kill, Elia?” He was here; he could guard her. There’d be no real danger.

  “Are you kidding? Yes!” She scrambled to his side as fast as harpily possible, her wings buzzing. “Not to complain about your whiplash personality changes or whatever, but what happened to me needing to train before I took on the advanced phantoms Erebus sends your way?”

  His whiplash personality? His? “I’ve been assured you are fierce and determined on the battlefield.”

  The look she gave him. Halo willed the phantoms to die quickly, just to grab the harpy and throw her back onto the bed. Her emerald eyes were dreamy, as if he’d presented her with the world’s most priceless jewels. A male could get used to a look like that.

  He flashed behind her and clasped her by the waist, ready to issue instructions. “Be ready. As soon as they deliver their message, they’ll fly over. You’ll need to strike them one after the other with a single strike.”

  “I can do it.”

  The phantoms went still. In unison, their milky white gazes shot to him over the harpy’s shoulder. “You are welcome, Halo.” Their monotone voices flowed together. “I know you enjoyed your break from battle. And let’s not forget your woman’s survival. You grow closer to her every day. That is wonderful. For me. I’m sorry to say, it is going to make the next challenge so much worse for you. Ha ha. Ha ha ha. Ha ha ha.”

  Fury boiled up, but he ignored it, concentrating only on Ophelia’s safety. “Be ready. They’ll attack in three, two—”

  Too late. Ophelia stormed forward. Halo observed, poised to assist at a moment’s notice. She went low, stabbing—argh! Only air. The trio of phantoms disembodied and fled through the wall, taking their chill with them.

  Had they sensed Erebus’s mark on the harpy, making her off-limits?

  “Argh! Why does this keep happening to me? Am I phantom repellant?”

  He frowned. “This happened to you before the task?”

  “Yes. Why do you think I’m without a kill?”

  His frowned deepened. If the mark were responsible, and she’d been unable to approach phantoms before this...she had borne the mark before the task had ever begun. Which meant she’d had contact with the god before the task had ever begun. Information she had failed to disclose to Halo or her General. But...no. If the two had any kind of contact, Ophelia hadn’t known it. She was secretive about her past, but not about the things affecting his task.

  The harpy stomped her bare foot, delectable in his T-shirt. The material swallowed her lush curves. “I just want to kill someone. Anyone! Is that too much to ask?”

  “I have no doubt the phantoms will attack you en masse once the brand is removed.” A reason to leave the mark on her. No phantoms, no danger. Except, suddenly Halo wanted Erebus’s claim off her, whatever the consequences.

  The link between the god and Ophelia would be severed today.

  Halo never should have left the mark on her. So he was going to hemorrhage power when he removed it? So what. “No more waiting. Off it comes.” Fun could wait. He stalked closer.

  “Now? But—”

  “Now.” Halo flattened his palm between her breasts to begin the long, draining process of—Boom! His power butted up against hers, and a high electrical charge punched him. He flew backward, slamming into the mantel above the blazing hearth. Broken wood and crumbled plaster rained around him.

  “Astra!” Ophelia cried, seemingly unaffected by the blast. She raced over to crouch at his side, her emerald eyes glimmering with a cocktail of guilt and shame. “Are you okay?”

  “I will be,” he wheezed from a supine position. He thought every bone in his body might be broken. As he healed, searing pains amplified and died. Suspicions blazed, unleashing an inferno of distrust. That wall of defensive power hadn’t come from Erebus or an ancient blade of untold origins but Ophelia herself.

  All power carried the signature of its creator. A piece of their essence. Ophelia’s signature didn’t register as harpy or nymph, however, but primordial.

  Proof that her blood had been used to summon the beasts?

  Or had Erebus done something worse to her? The god had dared?

  Rage charred the edges of Halo’s calm. His instincts shouted, Right. And wrong.

  Both? How could it be? What was he missing?

  Stumped, he scrutinized the harpy’s firelit features. Oh, yes. She did indeed project guilt and shame. Gaze darting away from him. Color blooming in her cheeks. Pearly whites nibbled on her bottom lip.

  She hides more than I realized.

  Other suspicions rose, crashed, then rose again, like torrents and tides in an ocean. Was there a deeper connection between Ophelia and Erebus? Something Halo wasn’t seeing? Something he maybe didn’t want to believe?

  Unease built inside him even as fury stirred anew, focusing on another target. If the harpy had betrayed him...

  No. She hadn’t. She wouldn’t. Harpy loyalty never wavered. But...

  He would watch her. Would decipher the truth, one way or another.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Did she know or didn’t she? Halo stood and pulled Ophelia to her feet. “Forget fun,” he told her, already stalking toward the bedroom door. “We have some studying to do.”

  20

  6:00 a.m.

  Day 16

  Five days later, Ophelia woke with a whimper in her heart and two certainties burning her brain.

  The first: Erebus is coming for me today. He planned to morph her into a boar, the next animal Hercules fought.

  Second: I’m losing Halo.

  How she sensed Erebus’s exact intentions, she wasn’t sure. Well, she kind of had an idea. The mark and her evolving intuition.

  How she sensed Halo’s waning interest in her was much easier—common sense.

  She lay in bed, awake and aware before Vivi ever entered the bunkroom. Ophelia stared up at the ceiling. Without the Astra nearby, she shivered with cold. But more and more, she was staying cold in his presence too. They hadn’t kissed since he’d attempted—and failed—to remove her brand. There’d been no chin pinches or cuddles either. No questions. Though he had oh, so romantically offered to let her kill the messenger phantoms, he hadn’t shown any interest in bathing with her afterward. Instead, he’d been stoic and quiet, either glaring at her with accusation or nodding at her with relief.

  Old fears constantly pinged with new life. Did Halo want less of her now that he’d experienced more? Had he decided she wasn’t gravita material, after all? Did he suspect the truth? That she had panicked the moment he’d turned his focus to the brand’s removal? A voice she hadn’t recognized had screamed inside her head, Mine! A total shock but come on! No brand meant no transformations. No transformations, no added strength. No added strength, no advantage over Erebus. No advantage, no victory. But...Halo kind of deserved the truth. He must sense it.

  Daily, the same dilemma raged within her, dredging up guilt and fear from the muddy rivers in her mind. Confess the full truth or never confess. Do it after the successful completion of the task or before. Take one or two or three more doses of power or risk being stopped now.

  Didn’t she have a right to that power? Halo fought to ascend—and so did she. Not to become General. No. To become the kind of harpy who didn’t need an Astra to protect her. The kind of warrior who defended those weaker than herself.

  Was she selfish? Greedy? Was she a coward? Diabolical genius? Both? To ascend, you had to grow. That, she knew. To grow, you had to stretch. To stretch, you had to hurt. But...

  She didn’t want to be a source of pain for Halo. Only a fountain of pleasure.

  Whatever the answer to her dilemma, she knew one thing for certain: she should not make the big confession today. Distract him right before a battle, risking his loss? That, he for sure would never forgive. But then, he might not ever forgive her, anyway.

  Why wouldn’t he talk to her?

  She knew the second Vivi tiptoed from their shared bathroom, sneaking closer to the bed. The lioness and the hydra snarled inside Ophelia’s head, ready to mount a defense.

  Oh yes. The two creatures had begun making themselves known, a part of her now. The batteries Erebus had mentioned. Though caged, her companions liked to rattle the bars.

  It was a consequence she hadn’t foreseen, and the reason she had new strength. Nothing she couldn’t handle, however.

  “Get your lazy butt out of bed. Operation Lady—Oh. You’ve already opened up the ole mind shops. Well. That’s not horribly disappointing or anything.”

  “I don’t need to go to the gym,” she said. “I’m already racer ready. Oh, and I’ve already attended the meeting with Taliyah.” Plenty of times. Too many. “She was planning on banishing me to Ation, only to change her mind when I agreed to help Halo successfully complete his mission.”

  “I...you...what? A mission? With an Astra? Why am I just now hearing about this? You know I prefer live action updates.”

  “You’ve heard it several—wait. I should have started my speech with the time loop.”

  “Time loop?”

  “The same day is repeating over and over again.” Yawning, she strolled into the bathroom, Vivi hot on her heels. “Also, I’m considering changing my moniker to Lady O-mazing.” It wasn’t exactly perfect, but she’d been unable to think up anything better. Lady Eternal? The She-beasts?

  “What? Maybe start your speech with something that makes a wee bit more sense because my brain is about to explode.”

  Too late. The world’s most confusing thought was already posed at the end of her tongue. “If time is circular rather than linear, the past sixteen days haven’t happened. Technically speaking. Which means nothing has repeated, and I’ve done nothing wrong. I haven’t even met Halo.”

  Vivi gaped as Ophelia brushed her hair and teeth. “Forget the time loop. My perma-single friend did not just go dreamy eyed over an Astra Planeta.”

  “Your perma-single friend might have gone dreamy eyed,” she said, dressing. Ophelia had a raging infatuation with the douchebag. His heat...his intensity...those rare moments he teased her. His kisses and touches. His commands. Their cuddle sessions. His everything.

  I can’t lose him.

  As if her thoughts summoned him, he arrived in her bunkroom, right on schedule. She couldn’t see him yet, but she felt him, a familiar charge arching through the air. Her heart raced, as it always raced whenever he neared.

  “Come to me, Elia,” he intoned, and warm shivers cascaded over her spine.

  Vivi’s eyes bugged. “The Astra fetches you?”

  “Often.” Ophelia fluffed her hair and exited the bathroom, ready for this morning’s confrontation with her Astra. Lately, he had looked her over, frowned, and flashed her to the library for more hours of reading.

  Today he stood with his arms crossed over his chest—the power pose she’d named Big Trouble. The pieces of the trinite collar dangled from his hand. He wore the usual black T-shirt and leathers, but he looked better than ever. More aggressive, sharper edged and highly motivated.

  Flutters erupted in her belly, and she forgot the rest of the world. Sexy Astra. The stripes in his irises spun as she approached and lifted her hair.

  “I like you this way,” he said with a soft voice. Dangerously soft. He clamped the cold stone around her neck, the chill barely registering as his hot fingers brushed her skin.

  “In my flannel pajamas?”

  A corner of his mouth twitched. “Acquiescent.”

  Whoa. What was this? Her heart raced faster. Irresistible Halo was back! The only version of him to tease her. But...

  Why now, the day she sensed Erebus’s intention to act? “Perhaps I’m lulling you into a false sense of calm,” she said and humphed. If he thought she would melt the moment he showed her an ounce of affection, he was right. Wrong! Definitely, unequivocally wrong.

  “Are you planning to attack me then?” he asked, grazing his knuckle along her jaw.

  “Darling,” she rasped with her most cunning smile. “I’ve attacked your thoughts since the moment we met.” Bold words. Prideful and flirty. But also seeking. How did he feel about her now?

  He returned her smile slowly, his features lighting up. “True. I didn’t stand a chance.”

  He still likes me!

  “Kiss already! Make me a big, beautiful Astra baby,” Vivi called from the bathroom doorway. She pumped her fist in the air.

  Oops. Ophelia had lost track of their audience. “Excuse me a moment,” she told Halo. “I have a best friend to annihilate.”

  “We stay together.” He captured her wrist and flashed her to the coliseum.

  Huh. Empty. Usually, harpies trained here at all hours of the day and night. At any given time before the freeze, groups could be spotted running up and down the stairs or brawling on the sandy battleground.

  “Today, we spar,” Halo announced. “You said you excel at maiming and pillaging. Now you’ll prove it.”

  Really? Truly? He was giving her a real chance? “One teensy little problem,” she said, spreading her arms to indicate her current attire. “I’m in my pajamas and bootless.”

  “That isn’t a problem, teensy or otherwise. A good soldier can fight in all manner of clothing. Or lack of it.”

  Well. He wasn’t wrong. “Why test me now? Aren’t you afraid the delicate nymph will get an owie?”

  The muscle jumped in his jaw. A tell she hadn’t spotted in a while—huge mad. Aw. Welcome back. She hated to admit it, but she’d kind of missed his anger.

  “When I said I wanted to keep you,” he grated, “I meant it. This is a part of your life, so it will be a part of mine. We will be happy together.”

  Just like that, a geyser of guilt blew its top, spewing cold, hot, awful acid. He was making promises he shouldn’t. Promises he might not make if he knew all the facts. She should tell him the truth. Yes. She should. And she would. Just as soon as the time was right.

  When she averted her gaze, he pinched her chin. Oh! Not the chin pinch! “We will be loyal to each other. I will not bring harm to you, and you will not bring harm to me. Isn’t that right, Ophelia?”

  “Of course that’s right. We’re allies!” She slapped his hand away, annoyed with him. With herself. No matter what it seemed like, she had only their ultimate good in mind.

  “That’s what I am choosing to conclude, because I am tired of keeping my distance.” He rolled his head, then his shoulders, then stepped a few feet back, settling into a battle-ready stance. With a wave of his fingers, he invited her to challenge him. “Attack me.”

  She didn’t. She crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his power pose. “Be honest.” What did he mean, choosing to conclude? Had he kept his distance because he’d doubted her loyalty? “Is this a real test of my skills or an excuse to feel me up?”

  “It can’t be both?”

  Well. Another solid response. “All right, then.” This was actually happening? Going head-to-head with a god? “I’ll train with you.”

  “Don’t hold back,” he instructed.

  “I’ll give you everything I’ve got, promise.” Wings fluttering, she stripped off her flannels. Wearing only a tank top and panties, she approached him slowly, rolling her hips. “You try your best to do the same.”

  He roved his heated gaze over her. “I thought we agreed warriors can battle in flannel.”

  “No, we agreed warriors can battle in anything. Try not to let my near nakedness distract you.”

  “Too late. I am undone. You do not fight fair, beaut—”

  Ophelia punched him in the throat, striking fast and sure.

  His breath hitched, his sentence ended abruptly, but nothing more. He healed too swiftly.

  “You’re right,” she said. “I don’t fight fair.”

  “We are to have no rules, then,” he said when he was able. His eyes sparkled in the morning sunlight. “Good to kno—”