Page 11 of Bought By the Cerberus
“I’ve been saving crystals my whole life for this opportunity,” a harpy shrieked to her nest-sister, wings fluttering with nervous energy.
They were all staring, all waiting, all vibrating with anticipation. They were all here for the brides.
Possessive fury pooled into my gut. I wanted nothing more than to tear them all apart, for even daring to think they could claim what was mine. But Aion elbowed me in the side, forcing what stood for a smile on his metallic face. “Come on. We should find our seats.”
I took a deep breath and nodded. The crowd parted as we moved through the lower tiers toward our reserved section. The people of Asphodelia recognized my team from countless harvests. They moved aside with respectful bows or calculating stares. I barely registered their deference. Like them, I couldn’t take my eyes off the empty stage.
“Things may be a little more complicated than we realized.” Skaros pointed toward the upper seating, the tier reserved for the Moirae and their immediate servants. “Look.”
I followed his gaze, and my blood turned to ice. It was Loxias. He sat in the Weaveguard section, his white fur bright against the shadows. In the dim light, his silver eyes glowed like beacons, a thread and an omen I didn’t want to analyze too closely.
My littermate. My brother. The Orthrus who outranked me in every way that mattered. Aion was right. This had suddenly become much more dangerous than I’d expected.
“What’s he doing here?” I snarled. “He’s never shown interest in bride markets before.”
Phonos landed behind us with a rush of displaced air and the scent of old battlefields. “Perhaps he’s here for the same reason we all are.” He folded his wings against his back, each feathersettling into perfect position. “To claim the greatest prize of all. The bride of Agrion.”
“Callista isn’t available for claiming by anyone else,” I growled at him.
“Isn’t she?” Phonos moved closer, invading my personal space with confidence I couldn’t help but despise. “I see no binding marks on that lovely throat, no completed ceremonies marking her as taken. Just a special, blessed woman entering the bride market.”
The truth of his words struck harder than his death screech ever could. It burned through my every possessive instinct. She wasn’t really mine, not according to Asphodelia’s laws or customs. Not until the claiming ceremony made our bond permanent. Not until our threads were truly entwined. The soul bond recognition meant nothing in the face of reality.
Before I could fully force myself to process this, the sound of trumpets erupted through the agora. The melody silenced the crowd, announcing the arrival of the market’s overseer.
Phix emerged from the shadows beneath the amphitheater. Ancient even by Sphinx standards, she wielded the kind of authority only Charon and the Moirae could challenge. When she positioned herself behind the bone rostrum, the agora itself seemed to hold its breath.
“People of Asphodelia!” she roared. “Tonight we gather to witness something sacred. The claiming of death-touched brides! These women have walked the boundary between lifeand death and returned marked by Thanatos’s grace. Treat them with the reverence they deserve.”
The first bride emerged from the preparation chambers below the stage. A human woman with scars across her throat entered the circle of light.
“Behold!” Phix reared up on her haunches, pointing to the scarred woman with a leonine paw. “Mira of the Eastern Provinces, marked by her own blade!”
Bids flew through the charged air, death crystals clinking as monsters threw their hard-earned wealth at the bride’s feet. The scarred woman studied her suitors in silence, weighing each potential buyer. Within minutes, she chose a minotaur who looked like he couldn’t believe his luck.
The second bride appeared, then a third. Each woman brought her own story of transformation. A mother who’d almost died in childbirth and had been pulled back from the void. A warrior whose final battle left her marked by Thanatos.
I couldn’t focus on any of them. My control was fraying, ready to break. Where was she? Why was this taking so long?
“Patience, brother,” Loxias called out from above. “In every battle, the most valuable prize always comes last.”
I spun toward his section, baring my fangs. He shot me a quick smile. It was the same kind expression he’d worn throughout all our lives, distant, but never disdainful. I’d never hated it, or him, before, but I was getting there.
As an Orthrus, Loxias served the Moirae, his affinity for the future having earned him a place in their Weaveguard. I gathered energy to keep our city functioning, and my affinity for the past was my greatest weapon for good harvests. We each had our place in the city’s natural order. I’d been content with mine. But now his superior position threatened what belonged to me.
I wouldn’t allow it. Even if Loxias wanted Callista for himself, he’d have to tear me apart to claim her.
“Last bride of the evening!” Phix planted her paws firmly on the rostrum, her claws scraping the bone. “Prepare yourselves for something unprecedented in our city’s long history!”
The preparation chamber doors swung open. Callista walked into the light, and I stopped breathing.
She was flawless. Her hair tumbled down her bare shoulder in waves of pure gold. The white silk gown hugged her form, revealing glimpses of her long legs and sinuous curves. But it was her eyes that broke me. They were deep blue and steady, and even with hundreds of monsters watching her, she didn’t flinch.
“Callista of Agrion!” Phix shouted. “Marked by Thanatos from the very moment she came to be!” She paused, as if she herself wasn’t ready for what she was about to say. “Gifted with the rarest treasure of all, a womb that will never bear life!”
The crowd erupted. Monsters surged to their feet with roars and shrieks that shook dust from the architecture. She represented the ultimate prize for anyone seeking a mate, and all of us knew it.
“Bidding begins at one hundred crystals!” Phix announced with the steadiness only a Sphinx could ever possess.
