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Chapter Sixteen
“I don’t stop when I’m tired. I only stop when I’m done.”
—Marilyn Monroe
Divina wasn’t supposed to “storm the mountain” with Andros, Chiron, Ere and Sorin, but she connived, pleaded, coaxed and whined her way into the mission.
There was no way she was staying at the bottom of the mountain to wait for the outcome with the others.
The argument that won the males over was the fact that she was dragon, even if she couldn’t access all of her powers. One never knew what might trigger her Gifts, or any of their Gifts, Sorin and Ere included. Which was why they got to come along too. So, it was only fair that she be included as well.
The main counter argument (from Andros) was that she was his Mate. He could be distracted by fear for her safety. She could be used against him. All true.
For the same reason, Andros commanded that the rest of the centaurs remain with their women at the foot of the mountain.If, and it was a possibility none of them wanted to contemplate, Andros lost the Challenge, they were to take the women away and build a new stronghold. Perhaps make an alliance with the Archons now that they’d won Thessaly’s most beloved maidens.
It was a rational plan. Divina approved.
But not for herself. She reminded her stubborn male that he would also be stronger and more determined if he were fightingforher. Because a warrior male like him simply wasn’t wired any other way. He would fight to the death for her. And win. Which was also true.
Thus, Divina got her way.
And she even convinced them to let her bring Chewie. If push came to shove, her loyal protector would fend off would-be attackers.
Chewie wasn’t all furball and bows, after all. He had the magic of every creature from the Celestial Realm. She didn’t know how his Gifts would manifest here, but she was certain he would keep her safe.
And now, she tried not to clutch Andros’ waist too tightly as she rode on his back up the steep rocky side of the mountain.
She didn’t want him to feel her anxiety and fear for him. He probably did anyway, because he was ever in tune with her. But she wanted to pretend for both of them that she was calm and confident.
He’s got this, she kept telling herself.
None of them spoke a word on the climb up the mountain. They didn’t need to. The plan was simple:
Andros would command the other centaurs with his princely, godly power, the way he commanded the horses in Thessaly, so that they stayed out of the fray. He would issue the Challenge to Ixion for rule of the stronghold and all of the centaurs under purview. They would fight, and the winner would take all.
The loser would most assuredly have to die.
For once, Divina didn’t try to broker a less bloody outcome. She hated violence in general. She was a fertility love dragon, for heaven’s sake. She had extravagant, multi-coloredfeathersin dragon form.
Battle was not her strong suit. She’d rather make love.
But this Ixion arsehole needed to be taught a lesson and pay for his reign of tyranny. Divina might be soft and cuddly, but she had a vindictive streak a mile wide. For what Ixion did to Andros as a newborn colt, he deserved to be pounded into patty cake oblivion.
Before she knew it, they crested the sharp ledge of the plateau where the centaurs had built a mighty fortress out of the mountainside from sheer rock.
Not surprisingly, centaurs gathered all around, though they gave the four warrior males a wide berth, their expressions both fearful and filled with curiosity and respect.
It was hard not to be impressed with Andros, who walked in the lead, shoulders back, head held high. His innate strength and goodness radiated outward in a palpable aura. He commanded and dominated with his presence alone.
Divina breathed him in.
His scent, his vigor, his indomitable will.
He’s totally got this.
Chiron was next, and Divina saw the respect and admiration the general commanded from the other centaurs.
Some of them were soldiers, perhaps in the second or third battalion (Divina had no idea how many there were, just that Chiron led the most accomplished warriors, the first line). But most of them looked like civilians. Still big and tall, as all centaurs were, but clearly less honed in battle. They held instruments for stone-cutting and smithery. Their stance was different, less military in bearing.
