The Nymph King. Gena Showalter
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a little girl, her favorite fairytale had been Alice in Wonderland. Over and over she’d read about Alice falling down the rabbit hole, and had wanted to fall into that hole herself. Not now. Now that she felt like Alice, plummeting into the unfamiliar, she didn’t like it.
Alice had landed in a whole new world—and that thought scared Shaye more than never landing at all.
“I’m not sure…how much more…I can take,” she gasped out.
Then, suddenly, Valerian hit a solid foundation. His knees bent, absorbing the impact, and the vibration trembled through her. His arms tightened around her waist, holding her up with his determined strength.
“Take a moment to breathe.” He slid her down his body inch by gradual inch. “Breathe for me, love. I don’t feel your chest moving.”
In. Out. Air filled and left her lungs. In. Out. Surprisingly, she did calm. She could smell his scent, salty, sultry. Could feel his heat, his strength.
“Good, good. But you are pale,” Valerian said, a hint of concern in his voice.
“I’m always pale,” she muttered. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, she realized, slowly forcing them to open.
They had entered a cave. She gulped. How had they entered a cave? The walls were bleak and rocky, silver stones splashed with crimson. A metallic tang layered the cold, cold air, and that cold, cold air continued to wrap around Shaye’s soaked, nearly bare body, chasing away Valerian’s warmth. That frigid breeze ruffled her wet skirt and hair, and she shivered.
She slowly turned, taking in every detail. One by one, the other warriors were walking out of a clear, jellylike pool that swirled mysteriously. They were clasping as many frightened, trembling women as they could hold. Mist curled all around them and drifted to the ceiling. The entire scene was like something found in a movie. Where am I?
Trembling, Shaye faced her captor once again. Her gaze traveled over him, starting at his booted feet, moving up his muscled legs, skipping over his male…parts to his chest. Droplets of water trickled over his tiny brown nipples, through his silver nipple ring, and pooled in his navel. He had no chest hair; not a strand dared mar his perfection. Rope after rope of tantalizing muscle banded his bronzed stomach.
How could one person be so utterly flawless?
Up her gaze went again, finally hitting his face. His savagely, amazingly perfect face. Perfect sandy brows, perfect crystalline eyes, perfect nose. Perfect lips, lush and pink. Of course, he now sported bruises under his eyes because she’d punched him in the nose. Even with the bruises, however, he was the most sensually erotic creature she’d ever seen. He wore confidence like a cloak; he radiated primal ferocity.
Reaching up, he gently traced his fingertips over her forehead, nose and chin, wiping away the water. She wanted to pull away, but couldn’t summon the strength. His touch reverberated through her like a live wire. Hot. Scorching.
“Welcome to your new home, little moonbeam.” Desire coated his words—as if he had felt the sparks, as well. “Welcome to Atlantis.”
Atlantis. She blinked once, twice. Atlantis…the city buried under the ocean? Like the ocean she’d just exited? Her mouth went dry. No way. No damn way. “Please tell me you meant to say Atlanta, as in Georgia, and your accent screwed it up.”
His brow puckered. “I know not this Georgia. You heard me correctly. You have entered Atlantis, city of the gods’ finest creations. Home to nymphs, vampires, demons and many others that do not bear mentioning, for they are unimportant.”
No, no, no. Hell, no. She shook her head, her mind valiantly trying to discredit such an explanation. Atlantis was a myth. It couldn’t possibly be real. The creatures he’d named were also myths. They, too, couldn’t possibly be real. For God’s sake, vampires? Demons? In nightmares, perhaps, but not reality.
Welcome to Wonderland, Alice.
No, no, no, she thought again. There had to be another explanation. And yet…she could think of nothing else. She’d entered the sea, fallen into a dark tunnel, and now stood in a cave. A cave found below the water, not above it.
Atlantis whispered across her mind. She gulped, tightening her hold on disbelief, unwilling to relinquish it even for a moment. To do so meant accepting the craziness of Valerian’s claim—the claim of a deranged kidnapper.
“So I drowned, and I’m in hell.” Eyes slitted, she tilted her chin stubbornly. “Obviously, you’re the devil.”
“We shall see. Men,” Valerian called, a harsh growl. His penetrating stare never left her face. “Take the women and gather the rest of my army in the dining hall. The choosing will soon begin.”
With an air of eager anticipation, the warriors leapt into action. One of them tried to grab her arm, but Valerian stopped him with a feral, “I will bring this one,” even as she slapped at the offender’s hand.
“As you wish, my king.”
King? King! They pounded up a coarse, wooden staircase, the women close on their heels. Most of the men were grinning and clapping each other on the back. “Who will you choose?” she heard one of them say. Another responded with a hearty, “I want the redhead. Her breasts are…” Their chatter faded away.
A single man remained behind. Or perhaps he’d been waiting here in the cave. He wasn’t wet like everyone else. He wore a white shirt with a deep V-neck that almost reached his navel and tight black pants.
Valerian finally released her from his stare and turned to the remaining warrior. “How are the prisoners?” he asked.
Prisoners? Shaye’s eyes widened, and she clutched at her throat. Dear God.
The man gave a brusque answer in that odd language she’d heard Valerian use earlier, but Valerian shook his head. “Speak in the human tongue.”
“Alive,” the man said with a frown.
Wait. Human tongue? What did that make Valerian’s dialect? Inhuman?
“Have they given you any trouble?” Valerian asked.
“None at all, my king.”
“Very good. Continue to see to their needs.” He waved in dismissal, scowled, then called the man back. “Has there been any word about our females?”
“None.”
“Very well,” he said, his disappointment clear. “On with you.”
The man nodded and clomped off, his boots beating into the rocky ground.
“What prisoners?” Shaye found herself asking on a trembling breath.
“Beasts. Killers.” He turned toward her and she was once again hit by the full majesty of him. Icy air at her back, pure heat in front. “Do not fear, for they will not be allowed near you. Some are to be a present to my friend, Layel, and some are to be used to bargain.”
How ominous both plans sounded. What did the man have planned for her, then? Was she to be a present for one of his friends? Was she to be used as a bargaining tool?
He watched her with a frighteningly possessive intensity. The water in his hair was already drying, lightening the locks to a rich, honey gold. Several of those amber strands fell over his forehead and trickled tiny, lingering droplets onto his cheeks.
“I see the disbelief in your beautiful eyes,” he said, leaning one shoulder against the jagged silver wall, “and I will do my best to prove my claim that this is Atlantis. The faster you accept the truth, the faster you will accept me.”
Before she could respond, he reached out and applied pressure to the boulder behind her. His hand brushed her bare skin, shooting those electric shocks through her blood. She twisted, seeing one of the huge rocks embedded in the wall slide backward and sink deeply. As it descended, a secret doorway revealed