Astarte's Wrath (Kythan Guardians 0.50)

The air stills in my lungs; I can’t breathe. He’s just admitted his feelings for me, and I can’t form an intelligible thought.

“We’ll leave Alexandria,” he continues, and I look into his serious face, my shock complete. “If that’s the only way, then so be it. It’s probably for the best anyway. Then Octavian’s war is futile. His fabricated reason for war will be moot.” His green eyes seek mine through the dark fringe of his lashes. “If I’m gone

, then Octavian can claim the throne, and my family will be safe. All of Alexandria will be safe.”

Through the rush of emotions and the drumming of my heart in my ears, one thought breaks through: Xarion does not want to be Pharaoh.

He claimed he’d give up his crown to free me that day in the Library. And his sneaking out to the feast before. Dodging his responsibilities. He does not want to be Pharaoh. More so, I care for him, but how can he do this now? Now when everything is against him, the country, and us. The timing is wrong. It may always be wrong.

The unfairness of our situation takes hold of me, and anger seizes my senses.

“You’re so selfish,” I snap.

His eyebrows shoot up. “Selfish? That’s your reply?”

“Yes.” I tap his chest with my finger, trying to control my Charge as his broad collar bites into my skin. “You’ve never taken your position seriously. This is not just about you or me or us, it’s about Egypt. It’s about the people you aim to rule. Don’t use me as an excuse to back out of your obligations. I find that more offensive than my status as a slave could ever be.”

His mouth drops open. “You think I’m using you as an excuse to shirk my duties? Well, it’s nice to know what you truly think of me.” He grabs my hand and lowers it from his chest, holding it a moment longer than needed before releasing it.

“We need to be focused on Octavian’s legions while the queen is at war.” I huff out a deep breath. “I can’t do that, or my duty, if I allow anything to come between us. And”—I stumble over my words as they spill hastily—“I’m scared, too, but we have to keep our wits and you have to be Pharaoh. You’re selfish because you never once considered me—what would happen if your fleeting thoughts of me got out.” I cringe at the thought of what the Council would do to him. “If you care for me at all, treat me like a slave. Just make it easier on the both of us. I can handle being treated like that. It’s what’s expected.”

“Fleeting,” he says darkly. He blows the loose wisps of hair falling across his forehead up with a heavy puff. “Fine. If that’s the way you see it, if that’s what you want, then fine. I’ll only ever treat you like a guardian from now on.” He turns his back on me, but before he leaves the alcove, adds, “But I have thought about what would happen to you, and I was prepared to sacrifice everything to keep you safe.” Then he tosses aside the tapestry and stalks out.

Leaving me gaping.

Gods, why? How did we fall apart? My legs tremble, and I press my back to the cool stone, gaining balance as the onslaught of emotions nearly take me over.

Chapter Eight

As I ride the barge to Antirhodos, I think about all the time Xarion’s spent at the Library these past months. Pouring over tomes and scrolls, trying to discover a loophole in the creation of the Kythan. As much as I trust he’s been trying to understand my ancestry to stop Octavian’s Leymak legion, I know he’s been seeking a way to free me also. His questions that day in the Library present themselves in perfect clarity now.

But running away can’t be the answer.

Xarion’s actions tonight anger me, only because I know anything between us can never be. And because he’s infuriatingly right.

I cut him down because I’m afraid. He may be impetuous and flighty at times, but he’s willing to risk everything for—what? It’s still impossible to think he reciprocates my feelings. My best friend, becoming my lover. A forbidden thought but it excites me. And he’s willing enough to do what I balked at when confronted: try.

What would it mean if I were freed? Would the queen accept me as his choice? Hardly. Would Egypt accept a former Kythan slave as the future queen to Xarion? No. He would have to sacrifice not only his crown, but his entire life—everything. He admitted as much, but does he really understand the cost? I would no longer be subject to the punishment of death, but we’d surely have to leave Alexandria. Maybe even Egypt.

And how could he keep my unbinding away from the Kythan? Once freed, surely every Kythan would revolt and demand to be freed. Xarion’s words of sacrifice haunt me. I touch the gold-leafed cabin pole, my fingers tracing the curved ankh. It’s just not his or my sacrifice. We’d sacrifice tradition and all of Egypt to be together. It would incite a rebellion.

Does he truly feel I’m worth that? I don’t know if it’s the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard or the bravest—to stand against everything and everyone to chance a life together.

I can’t deny that the thought of his lips on mine, his hands caressing me passionately, his words of longing whispered in my ear drives me mad. I crave him like my lungs crave air, like my tongue craves water.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to force thoughts of his touch away. I can’t allow myself to be weakened. I have to stay strong, and that’s going to be difficult since I’m with him every day. It’s the worst kind of torture. Why did he tell me? I could have gone my whole life ignorant of his feelings and somehow found a way to be content, if not happy, as his guardian.

Looking to the sky, Phoenix’s rant comes to me on the harbor breeze, his words puncturing holes of uncertainty in my ba; my soul. Our own creator believes it’s a season of change. Fadil is stirring dangerous ideas in my friend and who knows how many other Kythan. And now Xarion is adding to that confusion, planting seeds of doubt within me. My life, my home, my duty . . . but to be free? I’ve never thought of the possibility.

Would my freedom also mean freedom for Xarion? If Octavian conquers at Actium, then death awaits the king of Egypt. Xarion could be spared. He could live a life—his life—free from the rulers of the world who wish him harm.

And the Leymak have proven they can co-exist within the human world, among the gods, without binds to control them.

But for how long?

No great power comes without consequences if it goes ungoverned. Look at what Rome is becoming. It’s proof that power corrupts. Xarion’s own father was murdered for his power. Now Rome aims to conquer all the world—just as Alexander tried to do.

There is no clear choice in this matter. I take in a deep breath, allowing the cool, salty air to cleanse my heated lungs. Keeping my back to Xarion, I look up to Pharos. Its fire-white light blazes against the darkness, strong and fierce.