Page 65 of Tangled Threads Of Fate

Tryp came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my body, stopping my trek back across the room. “It will be okay, sweetheart. Please, come sit.”

I let him lead me to the bed, sitting stiffly on the side. I had to distract myself, or the what-ifs were going to kill me. I couldn’t deal with the unknown.

“Why is Milo’s room underground?”

Erus sat beside me, reaching down to grip my hand, threading his warm fingers between mine. “He’s a Minotaur. They were all born in the tunnels of the Labyrinth, deepunderground. The story got a little muddled as the old religions of Crete were subsumed by the Greek Pantheon, but ever since the original Great Bull, they all lived in a labyrinth beneath the island. He feels more comfortable down here beneath the earth, even after all this time.”

I chewed the inside of my cheek. “Muddled how?”

“You know the story of Theseus and the Minotaur? With the golden ball of thread?”

Man, I was going to have to brush up on my mythology. “Vaguely?”

Tryp huffed a laugh from the other side of the room. “It’s all bullshit anyway.”

Erus nodded his agreement. “Well, the quick version is that Athens was sending children from the mainland as sacrifices to some imaginary carnivorous bull beast, because their city was struck with plague and famine. Of course, it wouldn’t be mismanagement by their own rulers, but some kind of divine punishment.” He rolled his eyes. “Anyway, they did this for years, and we’d get these boats of scared kids, feed and clothe them, and they’d just live on the island. Most of them were orphans and paupers plucked off the streets, who had no urge to return home to poverty. The Goddess would give them homes, and if they were young enough, parents. A lot of the island’s residents are descendants of the Athenian sacrifices.

“Anyway, after a couple of decades, Theseus decided to be the hero, too stupid to know that they were the reason these kids were being shipped off. He came over, declaring he was going to kill the great Minotaur of Crete. Except the Minotaur was actually Prince Catreus, who could shift from man to bull, like Milo can. The prince introduced him to the Goddess. The Goddess showed him their ‘sacrifices’”—he did air quotes—“some of whom were old and gray, with families. Theseus fell in love with Princess Ariadne. Between them, they all decided toconquer this stupid myth, stop the damn sacrifices, and Theseus returned to the mainland with Ariadne as his new wife.”

I blinked at him. “So no one was slaughtered?”

His face shuttered then, and I could almost feel his residual pain. “Not that time.”

Swallowing hard, I wrapped my arm around his waist and laid my head on his shoulder. “Are there other Minotaur left?”

Erus shook his head. “Just Milo.”

Something bad had happened, that much I knew. I wanted to know everything about these guys, about how they came to be, how they’d ended up here in their isolation.

But not now, while they were up there fighting for me. Dying for me, even.

Ihatedthis.

The haunted swirl of Erus’s eyes was like a knife in my chest. Erus, sensing my discomfort, pulled me deeper onto Milo’s giant bed. “Lay down, Wren. We won’t know until it’s all over.” I settled down onto the bed, and his arm reached out and cupped my stomach, rubbing in tiny circles. The babies kicked out against his palm, and he chuckled into my hair.

We didn’t speak, and the silence around the room, around the whole building, felt thick enough that I was wading through it. Tryp stood by the door, the last sentinel of my safety. Even though he was shirtless, leaning against the stone walls with ease, I knew from the way his hand rested on the pommel of a huge sword that he was ready to lift it in a fraction of a second. There was also a large dagger strapped to Erus’s thigh, and I felt so safe and protected, it was almost a relief.

“They’re holding their own, my love. The walls haven’t been breached, or we’d have heard the ward alarm. Between them, they have more battle experience than all the human history books combined. It will be okay.”

I nodded, turning on my side and burying my face in his warm chest. I trusted them, but it might only take one lucky swing to destroy my world forever.

Forty-five eternity-filled minutes later,I’d moved on to counting every rough-hewn stone in Milo’s wall, still ensconced in Erus’s comforting arms. When there was a thump on the door, Erus sat up, eyeing the door, and Tryp lifted the sword, holding it as easily as I might hold a pen.

“It’s me.” Milo’s voice came through, but the guys didn’t seem any less wary.

“Too many mimics. Gotta check if it’s really him,” Erus told me quietly, before calling out, “What happened the first time you made homemade rakí?”

I could hear Milo sigh through the door. “I made it too strong and passed out in the olive grove at the back of the compound.”

“And?” Tryp prompted.

“A scorpion climbed up my shorts and stung me on the balls, making them swell.”

Erus smirked. “Seriously, like the size of balloons. Massive testicles.”

Tryp was giggling like a girl as he opened the door. An unimpressed Milo stood there, glaring at the guys, but I could see Nate over his shoulder, and he looked amused. If he was smiling, it had to be okay, right?

I was off the bed as fast as I could—with a little assistance from Erus—and across the room in a flash. I made it to Milo first, but even as I was wrapped in his arms, I reached for Nate, dragging him closer so I could touch him and make sure he was okay.

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