Dragonmark by Sherrilyn Kenyon Page B

one knew where he’d been born or when—he refused to comment on it. His lyrical accent was so old that no one could identify it. But there were times when Illarion thought he detected a hint of Lemurian.
    All Illarion knew for certain was that Savitar predated him, and that over thirty-six hundred years ago when the Were-Hunter race had been created after the god Dagon had fused Illarion’s life force with that of an Arcadian prince, and Illarion’s brother Max’s with the prince’s half brother who’d been born of a slave, Savitar, alone, had run interference with the gods to spare them all a death sentence for Dagon’s hubris. A hubris borne from Dagon’s defiant need to spare the king’s children from a spiteful curse that had been unjustly levelled against their mother’s entire race by the Greek god Apollo centuries before their births, after a handful of Apollites had murdered his mistress and son out of jealousy.
    Only a Chthonian had the powers and authority to make the gods back down. And for reasons only Savitar knew, he more than any other Chthonian in history seemed to enjoy exercising that ability—especially against the three Greek Fates. There was no denying or ignoring the fact that he had a hard-on for them that no one understood.
    It was that grudge Illarion was hoping to exploit today.
    You told me once that I could ask a favor.
    Savitar growled low in his throat. “As I recall, that was directed more toward your brother than you, as you weren’t particularly cooperative that day when the offer was made. If memory serves, and it does, you wanted the Arcadians and Katagaria put down.”
    Well … not all.
    Snorting, Savitar passed an irritated grimace at him with those eerie lavender eyes. “True. You did want yourself and Max spared. The rest … not so much.”
    Do you blame me?
    â€œNot really. And you’re lucky I share your feelings toward most of the world. Now what brings you to these treacherous waters, my little rubber dragon?”
    I found a woman.
    Savitar cocked a brow at that. “What? None of your brothers ever had a sex talk with you? Well … it’s not a hard concept to master. Simply put, tab A goes into slot B.”
    Illarion rolled his eyes and shook his head. You enjoy playing the asshole, don’t you?
    â€œOne of the few pleasures left in my long, insufferable life. I hear from Max that you partake of it quite a bit yourself.”
    He couldn’t really deny that in good faith. Anyway, back to the topic at hand … I want to bond with her.
    Savitar went stock-still. He didn’t even breathe. In fact, he held it for so long that Illarion began to fear the bastard was dead.
    Finally, he blinked slowly. Then let out an elongated sigh. “Do you understand what you’re asking me to do?”
    Illarion nodded.
    â€œI don’t think you do, dragonet. You think you know, but you really have no clue.” He turned his head to pin him with a hostile glare. “The madness we, the damned, find when we seek salvation. We’re so desperate for some semblance of sanity that we will take whatever shred of it we can find—to hell with the consequences. Even if I were to tell you the price you would ultimately pay for it, you’d still tell me it doesn’t matter. For you can only see the angel in her eyes today. The succor you currently hold. Maybe the price for it will be worth it in the end. I certainly hope for your sake that’s true.”
    Illarion went cold at those dire words of warning that sent an icy dagger skimming up his spine. What do you see?
    â€œYou know I can only see what currently is, and all what could be. I won’t see the absolute, final path until after I bind you. Then it’ll be too late to undo it. But given the myriad of possibilities of what I see … not sure I’d chance it.”
    Which was why Savitar stayed