Entwined by Elisabeth Naughton Read Free Book Online Page B

least how he hoped his appeared. Her hair was a deep auburn, today falling to her shoulders in a silky drape he was sure was as soft to touch as it was to look at. But as he peered closer, as he drank her in inch by inch, he realized her features were set, that her jaw was locked, her mouth a slash across her pretty face. And though he’d seen her take on many expressions, this was one he didn’t know. Today she looked…upset.
    A protective urge bubbled up in him. A need to find who had hurt her and why and then make them pay. But before he could read anything else in her features, she turned away and the image faded. The glass once again became the same frosted, rippled and cold piece it had been before.
    “No. Wait. Come back.” He shook the glass. “Show me my heart’s desire. Come back!” He said the words again. And again. Only nothing happened. The heat that had been there only seconds before was now gone. Right along with her.
    Knowing it was all he was going to get tonight, he stretched out on the pallet, closed his eyes and cradled the glass against his chest. Tears burned the backs of his eyes. His stomach rumbled again. Never before had he felt as dirty and gross as he did at this moment.
    Maybe she could see back through the glass. Maybe that’s what had upset her and why she’d turned away in disgust. But even as the thought hit, he knew it wasn’t true. The little old lady in the white robe had told him it only worked one way. And yet that was small consolation when just thinking of her reminded him of everything he couldn’t have.
    He liked to imagine she would be proud of him. For standing up to Atalanta, for staying true to what he knew he was deep inside. But the reality was, maybe she wouldn’t be. Maybe all she’d see when she looked at him was thesame thing everyone else saw. A grimy, ten-year-old boy no one wanted.
    He rolled away from the food his body desperately needed, fought back the tears that were now sliding down his cheeks and held on tighter to the glass. The warmth that had flowed into him before still resonated in his chest, so he clung to that feeling. And to the hope that someday she’d come for him.
    He didn’t care anymore why she’d let him go. He only wanted her back. If the gods could see their way to send her to him, he would be the best son any mother ever asked for. He promised.
    Sleep pulled at him. He saw her face again. Only this time she was standing in a field of white, her beautiful features lined with worry as she looked, searched. For him, he hoped. And though he knew it was only a dream, he ran to her.
    Because even just the dream of her was better than anything else in his miserable life.
    As an Argonaut, Zander had never been one to just “go with the flow.” It went against his nature. If someone said sit, he stood. If he was told to go one way, he went the other. The only person he took orders from was Theron, and then usually grudgingly, so listening to Callia boss him around right now didn’t just set him on edge, it sent every single hair on his body standing at attention.
    However, he wasn’t stupid. He knew there were times when it was better to bite your tongue rather than let the rage rumble through. And right now—though he hated it with a passion—this was one of those times.
    But there was still no way in Hades he was getting naked in front of her.
    He crossed the room without looking at her, dropped onto one of three velvet couches in the sitting area and reached forward to unlace his boots. Too late he realized the couch he’d picked was the same one he’d bent Callia over one dark and sultry night nearly eleven years before.
    Blood pooled in his groin. His skin grew hot and damp. Her words, the words she’d whispered to him the night he’d intercepted her after she’d been to see the king, echoed in his head.
    Take me, Zander. Fast. Before someone gives me a reason to say no.
    Thirteen simple words. That was it. She’d known