Page 3 of Make Mine Nymph

If only she was my nymph. “I do. Doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been challenged. You ready?”

He nods. “Take your shot.”

This isn’t the first time Daphne and Noelle have met. I’m happy to see my soulmate and my sister get along, and if they want some privacy, I guess I might as well go along with it. Since that’s the case, I don’t want to beat the huntsman too badly. At least, not so quickly.

I reach into my quiver, pulling out a golden arrow. I aim for a tree about fifteen feet away from where we’re standing. There’s a knot in it, a good six feet off of the ground. I aim, then fire. The arrow lets loose with a twang, slamming in the dead center of the knot with a thwack. “Your turn.”

“Beat it or match it?”

Beating it would be easy. But matching the shot? “Match it. Within three inches, if you think you can.”

“Know I can,” the big giant mumbles. Like me, Orion has a magic quiver. Only one silver arrow—shining like the moon—sticks out of it, but it’s replaced as soon as he plucks it from its place. He nocks his bow, glares down his nose as he sights my shot, then fires his own arrow.

Two inches. Good shot, but not great.

I cock my head. “All right. Your turn to pick the shot.”

We go back and forth after that, neither of us missing the mark. I thought I might have tripped him up when I aimed for a particular branch, but he made the shot. Not as close as I would have, but it was in the three-inch mark.

It’s the winter season. There’s no snow in the Other—at least, not in the wooded area where I have my palace—but there’s usually a chill in the air this time of year. When I see the big huntsman shrug off his leather cloak, I realize that my competitiveness has allowed Apollo to rise up enough to let off some of his heat.

Whoops.

I rein Apollo in, though not completely. To use his bow, I need to tap into my god side, and there’s no way I’m going to let Orion win.

“It’s my turn,” I tell him. I start looking for another target when he holds up one of his massive hands. Realizing he wants to pause, I quirk an eyebrow over at my sister’s husband. “What?”

“Just wonderin’ somethin’. You and your nymph… you doin’ alright?”

His voice is a mix between a Southern drawl and a rumble that has Apollo fighting to take over. I take a moment to shove him down again, then run my finger down the length of my arrow. “Of course we are. Why would you ask?”

Better question: where is this coming from? The last time I spoke to Orion, just the two of us, it was when Noelle had taken the portal Cassandra conjured for her and we weren’t sure if she would ever come back to the Other. It was the first time I looked at him and, instead of seeing an enemy, I saw Hunter the way that my twin did.

Did that stop me from doing what I was supposed to? No. I had a part to play in Noelle’s story, and I did it because it didn’t matter how much control I had over my human side. In the Other, there are just some things you can’t fight. The magic is one of them. I needed to urge Artemis to shoot her companion, and I did.

Was I happy when Orion didn’t die? Apollo wasn’t. But Alex… I guess Noelle could do worse than a huntsman who could love her, protect her, and treat her like the goddess that she is.

Still doesn’t mean I’m going to let him show up the god of archers with his shooting skills.

Before he can answer me, I jerk my pointed chin in the distance. “Let’s finish the contest.”

“You need some advice from a happily married fella? A few tips to get your nymph to commit?”

I snort. “Please. I think I can handle my own affairs without my twin’s… companion interfering. Remind me, Huntsman. Were you a virgin mirrorside, too, or only until Noelle took pity on you and invited you into her bed?”

He blinks. He’s got these light eyes that stick out of his tanned face, and he blinks as if he can’t believe what I just said. Actually, he’s not wrong. I go out of my way to pretend that my sister is still a maiden, and that Orion keeps his cock in his pants around her. To bring up their sex life myself has probably thrown him.

He recovers quickly, though. Without his cloak, I can see as he reaches for the dented metal canteen he has hanging off of his belt, tucked between two of his blades. He unhooks it, showing it to me.

I raise my eyebrows. “What’s that?”

“Some nectar.” He shakes the canteen, the liquid sloshing back and forth. “Might help you pull that stick outta your ass.”

I scoff and, flicking my fingers, refuse his offer. “Is that how you convince Noelle to stay with you? Nectar?”

A local brew, it doesn’t have any alcohol in it, but tell that to the way it affects immortals. A couple of sips is enough to make anyone loose and tipsy. I might’ve teasingly offered some to Daphne during the early days after we first met, but I know better than to accept some from my sister’s husband.

Especially since I have the walk home with Daphne to look forward to. To keep from making any other mistakes when it comes to convincing my soulmate to stick around, I need a clear head—and I’m pretty sure he knows that.