TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) Read Free

took up space in the center of the cavern. Stalactites hung from the ceiling. A bench had been carved out along the far right side, and fresh towels had been laid out in advance.
    The satyr on the right tossed Nick a small plastic bag. “The prince wants you cleaned before we take you back to your cell. Do it quickly.”
    As the satyrs turned away to stand guard at the door, Nick looked down at the package in his hands. Soap and a disposable plastic razor.
    The razor had potential. His gaze skipped over the thick rock walls, then to the backs of the two satyrs he could see. Two he could take down with a weapon as simple as a razor blade. Three was pushing it. And if he succeeded, odds were good he’d be caught before he could figure out how the hell to get out of this maze of a prison.
      Plus there was the harsh reality he’d lost a fair amount of blood in that last fight and was more tired than he wanted to admit. Now was not the time to plan his big escape. He stripped off what was left of his torn pants and stepped into the pool.
    Cool water surrounded him, and he winced when it hit a cut on his leg and another on his shoulder, then sighed as the liquid cradled his sore body. He dunked beneath the surface and let the water rush over his face and swirl above his head, pulling the grime from his hair and beard. No, he didn’t have a clue what Zagreus had planned next, but he was thankful for the chance to rid himself of the filth and stench and blood of those satyrs. If only until the next unfair battle.
    He came back up, flicked the wet hair out of his eyes, and opened the small bag. After washing his shaggy hair and the rangy beard, he scrubbed the soap all over his skin, then rinsed, feeling more human with every passing second. When he was clean, he glanced toward the razor sitting on the side of the pool and frowned because he knew that thing was gonna hurt like hell tugging through all the hair on his jaw. He considered leaving his damn face just the way it was, then thought better of it. If the satyrs had given him a razor, it meant either he was shaving himself or they were. And he didn’t want those fuckers anywhere near him.
      He did his best without a mirror and scissors, wincing every time he nicked himself. After rinsing, he climbed out of the pool, reached for a towel, then hesitated with his hand on the soft cotton as his gaze caught on the cuffs around his wrists and the markings on his forearm. Markings that made him think of his soul mate.
    He wondered where she was and what she was doing. Whether or not her newborn child had survived the daemon attack at the half-breed colony. If his brother, Demetrius, his twin and—thanks to the fucking gods—also her soul mate, was taking care of her right this minute or out running useless missions with his Argonauts.
    If she ever thought of the sacrifice Nick had made for her.
    Anger pushed in. An anger he’d lived with many long years. He waited for the familiar burst of longing that always followed, for the soul mate pull, which was like a magnet, dragging him toward Isadora. Yes, it was there, calling to him, but it wasn’t as intense as before. And he couldn’t help but wonder why.
    Maybe he was finally hardening inside, losing what little humanity he had left. Or maybe Isadora’s bond with Demetrius was so strong Nick just didn’t matter anymore. His brother and Isadora were bound to each other now, with all the pomp and circumstance the stupid Argolean ceremony imposed. But more than that, they’d solidified their side of the soul mate bond through the act of making love, something Nick seriously didn’t want to think about.
      His own bond with Isadora had never been sealed like that. Not that he hadn’t considered it…only a bazillion times. But even as he fantasized about the possibility again, he knew it was no longer even an option. He was going to die in this miserable place. It was only a matter of time. Which meant his brother was