Free Brutish Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 4) by Rachael Slate Page B

the waterfall and out into a meadow. An axe rested beside a pile of rubble. The stones of Nysa’s well, hacked to pieces. He fell to his knees and dropped his head into his hands. Dread tightened his throat. Was he too late?
    Was there no saving Nysa now?
    ***
    Nysa groaned and rolled onto her side. Stinging vibrations hummed through her body and she clutched her bare middle.
    Nude?
    Oh, not again. She dragged herself to her knees, scanning the dank chamber.
    “Well, how do you like this? Now, you’re my prisoner.” The cool voice rippled beneath her skin and she shivered. Deimos.
    “Don’t you mean ‘again’?” She snorted and faced him.
    He shrugged, leaning forward against the bars on the opposite side of her cell. “Either way, you won’t ever be freed.”
    Dread sank into the pit of her stomach. “What have you done with my well?”
    “It’s gone, Nysa.” A cruel smirk spanned his lips. “I don’t require it anymore, and there’s just enough water left in you for what I have planned.”
    My well is gone. She swallowed the thick lump in her throat. “How did I get here?”
    “Clever nymph, can’t you guess? Spilling your water transports you.” He scoffed. “Well, not anymore. Your spring is dried up and the only water left to spill…is your blood.”
    Her nails dug into her palms. “I dare you to try.”
    “Oh, there’s no use in fighting me , darling.” Deimos stepped aside, revealing another man. “Because you’re going to kneel and bleed before your new King.”
    She gaped at the eloquently groomed and dressed male sneering at her. Lapiths lands meant he must be King Philaeus. This was the male who’d forced Thereus’s nymph mate, Melita, to transform into a tree.
    She clenched her fists tighter, glaring at the fiend’s haughty grin.
    “You’ve done well, Deimos.” Philaeus nodded to the male, who beamed beneath his praise.
    Deimos had stolen her waters for him . By the adoring smile on his face, the King was the object of Deimos’s devotion.
    Even if Philaeus reciprocated the affection, her waters would have numbed him against any emotion.
    Philaeus was a detached and dispassionate villain. Their enemy.
    And her captor.
    ***
    Oreius shoved his hands through his locks. Think.
    There had to be a way to restore this well, to save Nysa. How? He dug through the bottom stones, but the waters were gone, and his hands sifted through dry soil.
    He wouldn’t give up on her, and he refused to lose her.
    Where was she? Had she ventured to the sacred place of her people, as Melita had?
    Or had Deimos somehow devised another way to trap her?
    He stared at the stones for so long they blurred together in his vision and formed a solid block.
    His skin pricked and he straightened. The stones were split, but not crushed to dust. What if he rebuilt her well? The smallest possibility existed that she might be restored if her well was too.
    He grimaced. But not here amidst all this destruction.
    Yes, he would rebuild her well, where no villainous Lapith would ever harm her again.
    Oreius removed his saddlebags and stuffed the stones inside them, gathering each one. He couldn’t leave any of them behind.
    Once the stones rested against his flanks, he studied the meadow and heaved a deep sigh. By the gods, he prayed this was the right course. After he galloped through the forest toward the cave entrance, he followed the tunnel back to Agrius’s lands and then to his home. He dashed to his castle for supplies and sprinted through the woods, searching for the perfect location. Where to build her well?
    There. The ancient ruins she’d tumbled into. Nysa had told him a spring existed here. He leapt into the sunken hole and strode to the light trickling of water. Aye, this place.
    Oreius lowered the stones off his back and withdrew them from the saddlebags. One by one, he arranged the stones and bound them with mortar. Finally, he slid the last rock into place. Two feet wide and four feet tall, the