Only…he didn’t. She was backed as far as she could, putting her hands up in a futile attempt to prevent a blow, but the sweeping hand didn’t reach her.

A dark shape had sprung from the shadows as if it had always been there. Demos’s hand was held before it had a chance to find its mark.

Demos twisted, lashing out with his boots, moving so the shadow was now in the light.

Nikos.

‘How dare you touch her?’ He let Demos’s hand drop as if it was slime. Demos struck out again, but Nikos was before him. He punched, so hard that Demos sprawled backward, crashing over an ornate chair, falling, hitting the ground with a sickening thud. Lying there for one long moment while Thena thought, dear God, he’s killed him.

Nikos didn’t say a word. His hand came out and took Thena’s, holding hard.

An oath came from the tiled floor. Not dead, then.

Nikos tugged her hard against him, putting her slightly behind him, his body between her and her cousin. He watched in grim silence as Demos struggled to his feet.

Demos straightened, swore again and looked at Nikos with murder in his eyes. If he’d had a gun, Athena thought with a shiver of pure dread, then Nikos would be dead. Or if he’d been wearing Alexandros’s ceremonial sword…

‘What is she to you?’ he snarled to Nikos. ‘This has nothing to do with you.’

‘Princess Athena is the mother of my son,’ Nikos said and his voice made Athena shudder. It was as cold as ice, rigid, formal and grim. ‘You just threatened my son. And…’ he tugged Athena closer ‘…you were about to strike my woman. I’ll defend what’s mine, and this woman and her son are mine. Hear me well, Demos, for I mean every word. Get yourself out of this palace and off the royal grounds. If you’re seen within sight of Princess Athena or her son again you’ll be thrown off the island, never to return.’

Then he turned his back on Demos as if he had no interest in him at all-and he took Athena into his arms.