Wicked Lord of Thessaly (Halcyon Romance Series Book 3) by Rachael Slate Page B

her with wide, concerned eyes, and shaking his head. “Who are you?”
    “I am Nysa of the Krenaiai , well nymphs. Your brother trekked through Lapith lands to secure my waters, to unburden you.” She sighed. “And now I’m here, away from my well.” Rubbing her arms, she puffed out her breath. The night air and the moisture clinging to her skin had chilled her.
    “You are cold.” His brows drew together and he took one step toward her, only to stumble back. “Come inside and warm yourself by the fire. We shall discuss a solution together.”
    She nodded and followed him through the doorway beneath the balcony, up a set of winding stairs, and into the cozy study where her flask had sat for the past several months.
    “Come.” He waved to the blazing hearth and the armchair beside it. Gratefully, she collapsed into the chair, soaking in the warmth. She eyed the flask while he set it upon the table.
    Oreius sank into the chair opposite hers, planting his elbows on his thighs and dropping his head into his hands wearily. “Where is your well, nymph?”
    “Mount Pelion,” she murmured the damning truth. He froze, likely sensing the peril of her situation. “I know you are at war, but if I don’t return to my well, I will die.”
    As a Krenaiai , her life force was bound to the well and the waters within. She’d never ventured so far from her well before, and never not by choice.
    She lifted and dropped a shoulder. “This never would have happened—”
    “Aye,” he grimaced, “if I’d just drunk the damned waters.”
    *****
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