Chapter One
The whip sliced through the water and Rourk held his breath. In the past ten minutes he had discovered anticipation was not something he welcomed. His body tensed. His back muscles, already bleeding from Poseidonâs hand, braced for impact.
âThis is your fault!â the sea god shouted.
The only fault lay with Poseidon, but Rourk had no intention of beseeching death anytime soon with that truth. Poseidonâs whip peeled the flesh off his back, and Rourk bit back a curse. Only his Titan strength kept him upright and not flat on his face under the god of the seaâs assault.
Poseidon cursed. The waves rolled in revolt. Oceans darkened and the ominous sound of thunder boomed from the human realm to Poseidonâs domain.
âGo after her!â The god did not shout. He roared. Those near his throne shivered. The smart ones hightailed it out of the palatial throne room faster than sardines, keenly aware of the sea godâs temperamental nature.
With pain from his beating stealing through his cells, Rourk ground his teeth. He wasnât about to let any weakness master him or attempt to settle like an old barnacle within him. His time serving Poseidon was almost up. Failing was not an option.
He looked Poseidon in the eye and nodded. âWith pleasure.â He made sure his voice was steady.
Poseidonâs focus turned elsewhere. Rourk used the precious seconds to regain control of his body. He felt the exact moment his servitude ended. Power coursed through his demigod veins, healing his wounds with a mix of pain and pleasure. His relief was instantaneous and exhilarating. Rourk was once again in control of his destiny. And that destiny had a nameâLily, a temptress he looked forward to claiming.
Poseidon willed his white-gold triton, bejeweled with red rubies and emeralds, to life. Moving it in a circle, he opened a portal in the barrier that kept the mortals of Earth from the sea godâs domain. Suspended in water, the portal shimmered. Its liquid turquoise hue suggested serenity for those who dared to venture forth. Too bad peace was the last thing it offered. Going through the opening was the equivalent of agreeing to a day of torture by the most depraved slave master.
Green blood dripped steadily down Rourkâs back, thanks to the lashings. At least he no longer felt the ripples of sharp pain that had almost felled him. His freedom did not sit well with Poseidon, he knew, because the god of the sea was losing something he cared aboutâhis daughter. For Rourk, freedom tasted like pristine, clean water and smelled of Lilyâs lavender scent.
Poseidonâs neon-green eyes stared at him. âWell, what are you waiting for? Get a move on, Rourk, before I decide to send another.â
Rourk glared back. Those serving the god swam farther out of reach, afraid of any repercussions. Not Rourk. With strength of will he moved closer to the god.
âI fulfilled my end of the bargain.â
A dark, sinister mask settled on Poseidonâs face. It almost made Rourk swim farther out of reach. Instead he marshaled his thoughts and remained standing.
âYes, you did. That doesnât mean I like you. My daughter means the seas to me. She will not like this. I want her back here, in this domain, where she belongs. I curse you, Zeus.â Poseidon made a fist and shook it toward the heavens where his brother ruled.
Those under his rule knew exactly what he referred to. Zeus controlled the mortal realm of Earth, and currently his brother, Poseidon, was not permitted to visit humans, because he had participated in the Olympian War. The sea god believed it was only a matter of time before his sibling granted him his wish to visit Earth, but until then he was almighty only in his own domainâa fact intensely pleasing to Rourk.
Sending Rourk after his willful daughter would ensure she would be brought back safe. If not, Rourk knew heâd be dead. That idea no longer terrified him, but he kept that fact hidden from Poseidon.
âRourk, not one lock of her hair had best be out of place. Now go!â
Oh, Rourk did not plan to touch a single fiery-hued strand of hair on Poseidonâs daughterâs head, but he planned to claim everything else about the temptress, who had tortured him for years with her existence. She didnât know that yet, but after two hundred years being her fatherâs slave, thanks to a bad game of poker, Rourk had mostly mastered patience. Now that he had fulfilled the terms of his wager, he was free, and better yet, thanks to a more recent and deadly hand of poker, Poseidonâs daughter was his. It was a bet he couldnât wait to collect.