Could you settle the hell down? Erebos grumbled from one of the cots. From his dark hair to his dark skin, from his handsome features to his strong body, he was the picture of unhappy male, all of that unhappiness pointed at her. Were trying to plan an escape here.
They were always planning an escape.
Besides, he continued, your ugly face is giving me a headache.
Go suck yourself, she replied. Though shed been the one to hurt him all those centuries ago- unintentionallyhed repaid her a thousand times over. Purposefully. Not emotionally, but physically. He liked nothing better than to accidentally trip her, bump into her and send her flying, as well as to eat what little portion of food was meant for her before she could fight her way to the front of the line, starving her. If she hadnt been wearing the collar, he never would have been able to do those things. She would have been too strong. Another reason to despise her captivity.
Sucking myself would probably elicit better results than when you did it, he retorted.
The handful of gods and goddesses around him snickered.
Whatever, she said, as if the taunt didnt bother her. Except, her cheeks did flush. She was the epitome of strength-or she was supposed to be-and shed always been more mannish than feminine. That was why Atlass attention had so surprised and delighted her. That gorgeous man could have won anyone, yet hed chosen her. Or so shed thought. And shed fallen for his act because hed somehow made her feel like a delicate, beautiful woman.
Just then, Atlas strode into the guards station. She didnt have to see him to know. She felt him. Always she felt his heat. When her gaze found him, she discovered that he had his arm wrapped around a leggy blonde. A blonde who cuddled herself into his side as if she belonged there-and had rested there many times before.
The thought angered Nike. It shouldnt have; she despised Atlas with all of her being and didnt care who he slept with. Didnt care who he pleasured. And yes, he would have pleasured the blonde with those talented hands and seeking lips. He was an amazing lover whose touch still haunted Nikes dreams. But there it was. Anger.
She didnt mean to, but found herself striding to the bars and gripping them for a better, closer look at him. Three other guards stood around him, all talking and laughing. While prisoners wore white, guards wore black, and he wore that darkness well. It was the perfect complement to his dark, chopped hair and sea-colored eyes.
His face had been chiseled by a master artist, everything about him perfectly proportioned. His eyes were the perfect distance apart, his nose the perfect length, his cheeks the perfect sharpness, his lips the perfect shape and color and his chin a perfect, stubborn square.
She should have known he was playing her the moment hed turned those dangerous eyes on her and they lit with interest. Men just didnt look at her like that. Not even Erebos had, and he had loved her.
Bastard, she muttered, the curse for both the men in her past.
As if he heard her, Atlas lifted his gaze. The moment their eyes met, she wanted to release the bars. She wanted to step away, out of sight. But she didnt allow herself that luxury. That would have been cowardly, and this man had seen her weak one too many times.
Just to taunt him, and hopefully make him feel as out of control as he always made her feel, she allowed her attention to fall to his chest, exactly where her name rested. She smiled smugly before raising her gaze and arching a brow. Score. A muscle ticked in his jaw.
What does your lover think of your mark? she wanted to shout. What does the blonde think of my name on your body?
He jerked the stupid blonde deeper into his side and, without breaking eye contact with Nike, planted a lush, wet kiss on her mouth. Of course, she reacted as any other woman would have. She wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life. As Nike well knew, that man could make a woman come with the expertise of his kiss.
Nikes anger intensified. Had she been able, she would have stomped down there and ripped them apart. Then she would have killed them both. Not because she wanted Atlas for herself-she didnt-but because he was clearly using yet another woman. Passion did not glow from his expression. Only determination did.
Nike would be doing the female population a favor by snuffing him out.
Erebos, she called. Come here. I want to kiss you.
What? he gasped out, his shock clear.
Do you want a kiss or not? Get over here. Quickly.
There was a rustling of clothing behind her and then her former lover was beside her. He was a prisoner, and sex was a rarity. He would take what he could get, even from someone he loathed. That much she knew.
Nike turned to him; he was already leaning down. Like the blonde, she wrapped her arms around her companions neck and held on tight. Only, she didnt enjoy the kiss, familiar as it was. Ereboss taste was toowhat? Different from Atlass, she realized, and that ratcheted her anger another notch. No man should have that much power over her.
Still. She let Erebos continue. Atlas needed to realize that she no longer desired him. He needed to realize that he would never, never play her emotions again. She was not an idealistic little girl anymore. Hed made sure of that.
Chapter 3
Rage. Absolute rage filled Atlas. He released his companion-he couldnt recall her name-and she gasped in protest at the abruptness of his actions. He didnt bother explaining what he was about as he stomped away from her. The rage continued to spread as he climbed the stairs that led to the prisoners cages and to the cell holding Nike.
His name was on her back. How dare she allow another man to put his lips on her?
When he reached his destination, he raised his arm, and the sensor hed had embedded in his wrist caused the bars to slide open. Several prisoners were seated against the far wall. Rapturous longing colored their faces as they watched the minor god of Darkness and the goddess of Strength clean each others tonsils. So absorbed were they, in fact, that they didnt rush Atlas and try to escape. Or maybe that had something to do with the pain they would feel if they did so. He had only to press a button, and their collars would ravage their brains.
Nike moaned, as if she really liked what was being done to her. Red flickered through Atlass vision. How. Dare. She. Teeth grinding, he grabbed Nike by the collar of her robe and jerked her into the hard line of his body, away from Erebos.
A gasp escaped her. Unlike when the blonde had gasped, he did not remain unaffected. He wanted to swallow the sound-and do something, anything, to cause Nike to make it again.
Whats wrong with me?
Hey, Erebos snapped, foolishly reaching for her to finish what had been started. We were busy.
Scowling, Atlas kicked him in the chest. The smaller man flew backward, slamming into his fellow prisoners. He jumped to his feet to attack, saw who had rendered the blow and stilled, nostrils flaring.
Touch her again, Atlas said, and Ill remove your collar-right along with your head.
The god paled, perhaps even whimpered. She wasnt worth it, anyway.
Atlas might kill him for his words, as well.
What the hell do you think youre doing? Nike demanded, suddenly coming to life and drawing his attention. She whirled on him, glaring up at him. I can sleep with whoever I want. And hey, I might even pick one of your friends.
Despite her heated words, she wasnt breathless as she would have been if Atlas had been the one kissing her, and her cheeks werent flushed. Her nipples werent even hard. Finally, something cooled the hottest flames of his rage.
Just zip your mouth. He latched on to Nikes upper arm and dragged her out of the cell with him. Automatically, the bars closed behind him.
What the hell do you think youre doing? she said again, tugging against his hold. Shed never been one to obey him.
What the hell did you think you were doing? he countered. When he reached the bottom of the steps, he stopped. The blonde, who just happened to be the goddess of memory-damn it, what was her name? Mini? No, but close. M and M? Minisong? Closer. Mnemosyne. Yes, that was it-Mnemosyne, as well as the three other warriors chosen to guard Tartarus today, were gaping at him.
What? he snapped. At least Nike stopped resisting him. She stilled at his side, attention darting from him to the others, the others to him.
You cant just remove a prisoner, Hyperion, god of light, said. He was a handsome man, though as pale as his title suggested, and Nike had better not be eyeing him as a possible bedmate.
Im not removing her, Atlas replied stiffly. Im relocating her. To a cell of her own, where no one could put their dirty, disgusting lips on her. Where no one could put their roving hands on her body. There was nothing sexual about this decision, either. He simply didnt want her experiencing any type of pleasure. She didnt deserve it.
Why? Mnemosyne regarded him curiously, not a single thread of upset or jealously in her expression.
Why? he wondered himself. Shed been eager to date him for months, summoning him constantly. Last night, shed even shown up at his home naked.
She was beautiful, yes, and hed almost given in and slept with her. His body had been worked into a frenzy after what had transpired with Nike, and hed been desperate for release. But before he sealed the deal, hed sent the determined goddess away. Hed felt too guilty to continue. As if he were cheating on Nike. Which was ridiculous. The only relationship he had with Nike was one of hate.
Besides, who wanted to spend time with a female who would never forget your mistakes? A female who would remember your every transgression? Not him. Yet hed flashed to Mnemosynes home this morning and asked her to spend the day with him, just so he could bring her to the prison this morning. Hed been strangely jubilant at the thought of parading her in front of Nike.
So again, he wondered why Mnemosyne did not feel as if Nike were a threat. Though most females didnt, he knew. Hed heard them talk. Nike was too tall, too muscled, they said. She was too hard, and too coarse. But those were the things that had first sparked his interest in her. She could handle his strength. She gave as good as she got. She would never wither under his glare. She would never run from his anger. She would always face him headon. And he liked that. A lot. No other female hed ever encountered had that kind of courage.
And she was pretty, he thought. Yes, only yesterday hed thought her barely so, but, just now, that seemed wrong on every level. Only a short while ago, when hed first walked into the prison, hed felt her gaze on him and had looked up. For a second, only a second, her defenses had been lowered. She hadnt known hed been watching her, so she hadnt guarded her expression. An expression that had been soft, wistful, her eyes luminous. The sight of her had heated his blood as if hed been caught on fire.
That still didnt mean he desired her, his enemy. The fact that his name was spelled across her back was simply playing havoc with his mind, his sense of possession, he was sure.
Well, Mnemosyne prompted.
Yeah, Nike said. Were waiting for an answer.
To what? Oh, yeah. Why was he moving her. He raised his chin, refusing to look down at her. Not that he would have had to look far. At six foot, she was nearly as tall as he was. I dont need a reason. Im responsible for this prison and everyone in it. Therefore, if I want to move you, I can.
The last was meant for the Titans. They would do well not to question him.
Without another word, he dragged Nike away. Where should he take her? To his office, he decided. At the moment, there wasnt an empty cell in the entire realm.
Youre lucky I dont have that bastard slain, he said when he was sure the others couldnt hear him.
She didnt have to ask who that bastard was. What for?
For touching whats mine. He didnt have permission to consort with you. Atlas snaked a corner, and there at the end of the hallway was his door.
Consort with me? She laughed without humor. Oh, wait. I get it. You can screw anyone you want, but I cant.
Good. They were on the same page. Thats right. He pushed his way inside and finally released her. His hands itched to return to her, but he kept them at his sides. Rather than settle behind his desk, he faced her, placing them nose to nose. You are to suffer in solitude. Gods, she smelled good. Like passion. Pure, white-hot passion.
As if. I have more fun with myself, anyway.
The image those words evoked nearly sent him to his knees. He should back away. Before he did something stupid.
Her eyes narrowed. You havent changed, you know. Youre as much of an ass now as you were years ago.
However, he continued, as if she hadnt just insulted him. Stupid, be damned. She was here, and they were alone. If you need to be kissed, Ill take care of it.
Chapter 4
There was no time to protest. In less than it took to blink, Nike found herself smashed into the wall, Atlas pressing against her, solid chest to soft breasts, his hands pinning her temples, his mouth slamming into hers. His tongue thrust deep, without warning, forcing its way past her teeth.
She could have bitten him. Wanted to bite him, actually, and not in affection. She wanted to draw blood, pain. Instead, her body became his slave, as if centuries of hatred hadnt passed, and she welcomed him inside. She wound her arms around him and arched into his erection. Erection? Oh, yes. He was hard. Hard and long and thick.
His taste was decadent, wild and burning, like dark spices. His muscles were tensed under her palms. Up she moved them, until her fingers were tangled in his hair. The short spikes abraded deliciously, causing her to shiver.