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All blood drained from Ere’s face, his heart staggering to a sudden stop, at the sound of undilutedpainexploding from the depth of Divina’s core into the unforgiving skies.
He knew that sound intimately.
He’d made the same, whether out loud or in his mind, when the Hydra had captured Sorin and torn the wings from his back. For all the torture and depravities he’d endured over the millennia that he’d existed, nothing compared to the terror and agony of losing his Mate. Of seeing him hurt and broken.
He didn’t know what to do. Gathering Divina in his arms would not comfort her. Nothing would, ever again.
Only the return of her beloved.
But before he could think, much less act, five dark missiles shot straight down from the sky out of nowhere and landed with resounding impact upon the ground surrounding Divina and Andros, cratering the earth at their clawed feet.
Harpies.
Divina threw herself over Andros’ body to protect him, even though it appeared he could no longer feel anything that might threaten him. Dead to the world.
Ere grimaced.
Wrong expression. Even if it was true, he should still think positively.
Being dead didn’t mean one had tostaydead, right? Just look at himself. Prime example of the miracles of resurrection.
One of the harpies hissed at Divina, getting right in her face, swiping a long-clawed hand at her threateningly.
The creatures were the size of giant eagle spirits, far larger than humans. Their skin was gray, mottled with tough-looking scales. Horns extended from the tops of their heads, their ears sharp at the tip. Their posture was hunched, and instead of walking, they scooted on clawed feet like birds.
In a nutshell, they were hideous and mean-looking with scowling countenances that would make babies bawl to see them.
Well, there went one myth that harpies were actually beautiful women with wings, like angels. Clearly, that was borne of some sentimental fool’s fanciful imagination.
Nevertheless, it was kind of cool to have confirmation first-hand what the creatures Ere studied in classical mythologies looked like in the flesh. He just wished he wasn’t staring one in her ugly face right now.
Unimpressed, Divina hissed back, baring her human teeth. She was a tiny, curvy woman, soft everywhere, full of fluff, no claws, no pointy limbs. Yet she exuded badassery out of every pore in that moment, protecting her Mate from the vulture women.
“Move off, human,” one of the harpies said in a shrieking, hissing voice.
“This one is ours. We come to carry his body to the Underworld.”
Ere immediately perked up.
This was new.
Dead people got buried or cremated. He was pretty sure it wasn’t a “thing” for harpies to carry people off to the Underworld.
And, on that thought, a lightbulb suddenly blinked to life in his head—the story of Orpheus and Eurydice came to mind.
The lyre they were supposed to retrieve.
If their deductions were correct, it was tucked away somewhere in the Underworld.
Everything happens for a reason…
He cleared his throat and stepped into the exchange.
Sorin shifted uneasily behind him, close enough that he could lend his muscle should fisticuffs break out. The rest of the centaurs gathered around as well, frozen with shock and quietly watching.
Ere gathered that visitation by harpies wasn’t an everyday occurrence.
