It wasn’t a dress she would have chosen pre-Halo. Now, however, she expected his furnace of a body to keep her warm.
She’d braided her hair in a dark crown, baring her neck and the spiked collar Halo had gifted to her this morning.
The only thing she was missing? His brand. She’d pumped the brakes on the idea—not forever, just for now. Halo wasn’t happy about the lack, but oh, did she like his method of persuasion.
No more withholding orgasms. Now, he lavished her with pleasure. It was just, so much had changed so quickly. Admitting she wanted to keep him. Promising to spend her eternity with him. Experiencing true sexual satisfaction for the first time. Sleeping tucked up against another person.
She was stretched to the limit. Having a literal brand burned into her skin, establishing a mental link with her guy, perhaps even inadvertently sharing the thoughts and insecurities and worries she was fighting so, so, so hard to overcome...it was almost more than she could handle.
Ophelia pressed a hand over her twisting stomach and breathed. Calm came gradually. She wouldn’t think about tomorrow. Or the final labors. Or the mental zoo, overflowing with beasts who never stopped clanging around in their cages, making her wonder what would happen if ever they escaped at the same time. She would keep her thoughts centered on now. The night was teeing up to be her favorite memory. A cherry on top of an already wonderful day, spent with the guy she’d chosen as her very own.
How could she not fall for the Astra? The way he responded to her, and only her. His utter worship of her body. That lust-inducing intensity. His droll sense of humor. His strength!
During three of the labors, he’d run himself through with a firstone sword, turned to stone and crumbled, simply to preserve her life. And how could she forget his heat?
Ophelia was happier than she’d ever been. Which made her panicky. Bye-bye calm. Obviously, something had to give, and soon. The other shoe had to drop, leading to the moment she lost absolutely everything she’d come to adore. Right? That was her life’s pattern.
“The party has started.” Halo’s reflection appeared behind hers in the mirror, and her heart leaped at the sight. His eyes widened as he scanned the glass. His pupils pulsed. “There is nothing lovelier than you.”
“You aren’t wrong. But your loveliness is a close second,” she teased. He looked good. He wore the usual T-shirt and leathers, but he’d added an adoring gaze to the ensemble and, well, he stole her breath. “You are magnificent,” she told him, spinning to wrap her arms around his neck.
“I’d rather you scream how magnificent I am.” He kissed her brow, the tip of her nose, the rise of her cheek. “Everyone will understand if we’re late.”
Shivers raced over her limbs, and she laughed. Why had she ever feared having a consort or entwine? For the first time in her life, she was free to be a harpy and a nymph. The two sides of her might be opposites—the lover and the fighter—but they were no longer at odds. They worked together, strengthening her without the help of the beasts.
But did they strengthen her enough? Could she combat the beasts if ever they broke loose in unison? What if Halo couldn’t subdue her then? What if she...killed him? Had she allowed herself to become too strong? Erebus’s plan all along?
She hurried to blank her thoughts. Now wasn’t the time. Halo always sensed the slightest change in her demeanor. Apparently, the big, bad wolf’s moods were now dependent on Little Brunette Riding Hood.
“Party first,” she told him with a bright smile. He had specifically requested fun, so, he was getting fun one way or another.
He frowned at her, because yes, he’d sensed the change, but he also nodded. “Very well. I will do this for you, but you will owe me.”
She snickered as he flashed her to the throne room now jam-packed with beings dressed to kill. Metaphorically as well as literally. Small round tables were adorned with an array of finger foods. Cue cards read Do Not Eat. Soft music played in the background. Candlelight glowed softly, glinting from chandeliers twined with chains of crystal.
Roc and Taliyah observed from a dais, seated upon their thrones. Mingling throughout were the highest ranked harpies and harphantoms plus Vivi, Meda, the other Astra concubines, an oracle Ophelia had never met, the General’s family, and the remaining Astra.
The warlords were spread out throughout the room, though none actively participated in the festivities; they only watched as harpies downed shots and sang badly—some watched more intently than others.
Harphantoms had taken up posts near the walls, clearly uncomfortable and ready to ghost ASAP. Vivi, Meda, and three of the General’s sisters pretended to be bartenders, manning a makeshift wet bar, arguing over who served the best cocktails and cockteasers.