Page 3 of Kronos’ Consort

Her lids flickered at his suggestion, a crease appearing on her otherwise flawless brow. Kronos shook his head at the sight, though, in truth, it was relief that emanated at the gesture. A furrowed brow indicated that she was indeed awake and able to decipher his meaning. She was only choosing not to directly respond.

“Master?”

Her voice trembled as, slowly, she finally complied and opened her eyes. The windows to her soul were filled with questions, the surest sign yet that she was still the woman he remembered.

“Kristina.” He’d never been happier to see anyone awake. “What have you been up to, naughty girl?”

“I…” She attempted to lift her head, but then stilled, moaning in protest. “What happened? I have a headache.”

Settling her head back gently on the ground, he sighed. He didn’t like that she was in pain. The only hurt he was willing to accept being inflicted on the sweet blonde was the sort he intended to deliver personally.

“I was hoping you’d tell me, little one.” His relief was morphing into a far more familiar feeling. Looking at her incited the usual mix of vexation at the way she defied his command and the unyielding desire she inspired. “I returned to find you out of bed, and when I found you by the open door, you weren’t breathing.”

He placed emphasis on the fact that the door had been opened, watching her reactions carefully. One of her hands rose to her temple and rubbed her forehead as she replied.

“I wasn’t breathing?”

Her heart rate sped up at the news.

“Hmmm.” He didn’t like to dwell on that bleak moment for longer than he had to. “Someone had to breathe the life back into you.”

Arching an eyebrow at her, he was increasingly confident that she would emerge from her latest adventure unscathed. That was, until he decided what penalty to bestow to reiterate why mortals should never play with his magic. More perplexing than how to punish her, though, was the riddle of how his little one had known what word to utter to insist the glass vanish in the first place. He had no idea she knew any Greek, but he’d need to be more careful in the future.

“You did that?” Disbelief reverberated in her voice.

“Excuse me?” he prompted, ensuring the same brow flexed in her direction.

She’d been through a lot, but one thing he wasn’t prepared to relent on was the way she addressed him. He had rules for a reason, and her obedience was not negotiable. He had to quell her desire to flee, whether that be via their passion or her fear of his consequences.

One way or another, she would come to heel.

“Master.” She pressed her lips together as she spoke, as though she was tasting the word. “Did you save me?”

He smiled at the way she made that sound. He had saved her, and though he hoped it would never be necessary, he would do it all over again if required.

“Yes.”

He’d intended for the reply to be firmer, to reinforce the need for his honorific, but in the end, he couldn’t find the will to be so stern. His little one seemed unharmed, and even an old devil like Kronos couldn’t believe how lucky that made him. Oxygen deprivation was no joke on the human body, and even though the air in the room was entirely contrived by his magic, she still needed it to survive. Managing to bring her back with no tangible consequences was nothing short of a miracle.

“Chest compressions and the kiss of life seemed to do it.” He cast an eye over her, thanking whichever cosmic power was responsible for how well she’d fared. Once upon a time, he’d cursed its influence, sneering at anything that might hold dominion over him, but with Kristina’s life, that power had blessed him. “You might be a little sore where I pushed on your sternum, but I didn’t break any ribs.”

Her eyes widened at the news, the hand that rubbed at her head lowering to graze between her breasts. She was still largely covered by the robe he’d adorned her in for Shelley’s ritual, but she was just as stunning as he recalled; the living epitome of temptation.

“Well… thank you, Master.”

“My pleasure.” Commanding his power with one stroke of his index finger, he ordered the surrounding energy to cradle her and elevate her from the ground. “Though I was not intending to have to save you again.”

He’d rescued her once from thugs on the street and had wrongly assumed that was the last danger she’d need to overcome. Evidently, where Kristina was concerned, he needed to be more prudent.

“What happened to me, Master?” Glancing around her as she rose, he noted how labored her breathing had become; not ideal for a mortal who’d only recently been deprived of breath.

“You must remain calm,” he warned. “You’ll need time to recover.”

He brought her slowly into an upright position, rotating her body so she’d slip easily into his waiting arms. She responded at once, hiking her dress up her thighs and wrapping her legs around his middle before closing her delicate arms around his neck in an attempt to cling on. Not that she needed to worry. Kronos would never let her fall.

“But I don’t know what happened, Master.” Her breath was warm on his collarbone.

“You opened the door to my cloud garden.” He worked hard to avoid the recriminations in his voice, but he heard them there, loitering in the undertone. “I’m sure I once told you that you would regret trying to leave, little one. It was no idle threat, I assure you.”