Page 8 of Kronos’ Consort

His throat dried at the verdict. If he’d once questioned why he’d brought her to the parlor, then he’d need an even better explanation for taking her to his bed. Kronos didn’t need much sleep, so he didn’t spend much time there, but never in all of his years had he contemplated bringing a mortal along. Whatever was going on between them had clearly affected him in ways more profoundly than the blurring of an odd rule here or there. Running his fingers through her honeyed hair, though, he found he didn’t care. He didn’t want them to be parted.

“Oh yes.” Her playful giggle pierced his internal monologue. “It seems I still have a lot to learn, Master.”

Patting the tempting orbs of her fine ass, he was more than happy to agree. “I see many important lessons in your future, little one, but fear not. I am a dedicated teacher.”

Chapter Five

Kris

The first thing she noticed was the cold, soothing air. Kris sensed it lapping at her exposed skin, the temperature quite in contrast to the warmth of the rest of her body. She mewled when it interrupted her sleep, partly pleased for the cooler clime and partly perturbed at its disturbance.

Rolling onto her back, she fought the wave of consciousness, keen to delve back into the depths of her slumber. Sleep had swept her away quickly the night before, its comforting blanket cascading over her like a welcome friend, and while she couldn’t remember the details of how she’d come to be under those covers, she sensed sleep’s solace had been badly needed.

There was frustration, then, when its tender grasp slipped from her, a feeling that something she longed for was irrefutably lost, but the loss was dispersed as soon as her eyelids fluttered open.

Black.

She blinked at the revelation. Black had not been what she was expecting. After waking previously in the peculiar white room, the darkness was a superficial relief, but the contrast jarred, disturbing her waking senses. Searching the shadows for any signs of life, she tried to decide why that was.

She was obviously somewhere she hadn’t been before, but even given that realization, there should have been nothing disconcerting about waking up in the dark. The cover around her was cozy and comfortable, and its consolation suggested nothing nefarious. There were no omens of jeopardy in the swirling chill beyond her blanket, and the shadows promised to lull her back to the boundless realm of dreams if she’d only just give in and quell her galloping heart.

She could do that, couldn’t she? She could calm her nervous system and enjoy the rest while she could.

Pulling in a deep breath, she considered the query. Her body was weary, so why was her mind racing?

“Nothing’s wrong.” She mouthed the words into the black, although no sound left her lips. “Calm down.”

But no matter how hard she attempted to reason with her senses, she couldn’t seem to find serenity.

Something about the place was too different to allow her to just slip back into sleep.

Something was—

A body beside her shifted, and she stilled instantly in acknowledgment, gripping at the cover enveloping her while she held her breath.

Kronos.

The explanation for who had moved flooded her mind—the debris of a thousand thoughts, words, and deeds that had passed between the two of them scattering in her consciousness—but scanning the space at her side, there was no visible evidence of him. Only the huge expanse of his body pressing onto the mattress at her side had drawn her attention to the fact that he was there at all.

Closing her eyes briefly, she tried to recall the final moments before sleep had taken her to ascertain how they’d ended up together in the dark place. Fleeting images flitted through her brain like leaves on the autumn breeze, and in her mind, she saw the brown-haired woman, Shelley, and then the vast windows she’d explored, and then…

She gasped at the next recollection, the sound deafening in the silence. The memory forming in her mind was of the way his face had looked after he’d breathed the life back into her. Her head throbbed at the recognition of what had happened.

She’d almost died.

Hell, she had died, and without him, she’d have stayed that way.

“Kristina.”

His voice resonated through the gloom, the muscles between her legs all simultaneously contracting at the sound. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, that was the voice of her master.

“Master.” Her voice was ridiculously tiny in the dark, and she cringed at the pathetic noise.

After saying the word out loud so many times, she hadn’t known she’d still harbored any embarrassment about recognizing his authority. This was his domain, after all, a world where he seemed to have elusive and impossible powers. The man she honored with the title had saved her life more than once, brought her unimaginable pleasure, and while he had hurt her in the name of so-called lessons she apparently needed to learn, he’d never done so in haste or in anger. Rather, his temperament had often been kind and gentle.

Even more telling than his choices was the fact that she herself had accepted how insufferably tantalizing his power was. He might have lorded his authority, but in turn, she’d come to crave it.

As the recollections engulfed her, she remembered how he’d refused to deliver any penance until she was first adequately rested. The memory curled her lips, reminding her that the Goliath who’d captured her was increasingly loving and tender. That was why he’d insisted on feeding her by the fire in his parlor before he’d brought her to the new dark place.