Protected by Artemis (Gods and Beasts #3)

1. Artemis

Chapter 1

Artemis

I f a job was worth doing, it’s worth doing right.

At least, that’s how the saying went. But for Artemis, right wasn’t good enough.

Right was a mediocre way of thinking.

No, for the goddess of the hunt, everything had to be perfect .

And that especially applied when it came to her family.

However, not everyone had gotten the memo, but that’s why she was here, after all.

“Ribs? Sausage? Fish and chips ?” Artemis crossed her arms over her chest as she examined the printed menu on the wall. “That’s what you’re serving?”

The tall, burly man—who was supposedly the ‘chef’ of this operation—straightened his shoulders. With his dark brows slashed downwards and his massive frame towering over her by almost a foot, anyone would have been intimidated by the man.

But not Artemis.

“Do you know whose wedding this is?” she asked firmly.

“This is the mating ceremony of my Alpha’s sister,” he replied in a gruff voice. “And this is my kitchen.”

“And the groom is my brother. Apollo. You know, the god of the sun?”

The man did not flinch at all, but Artemis supposed when one was an over six-foot-five-inch tall, muscle-bound shifter who could turn into a large wolf with sharp teeth and claws, few things made one flinch.

Good luck, brother dear, hope you know what you’re doing getting involved with this bunch.

But then again, in the thousands of years they had existed, Artemis had never seen her brother so happy. Apollo had always been carefree, happy-go-lucky, and refused to settle down with any girl. Then he met Geri, and he’d fallen hard.

And Geri, despite being an incredibly intelligent, beautiful, and reasonable woman, had chosen Apollo to be her mate. Or her wolf did, since she was a shifter. Artemis shrugged internally, as, being a goddess, she didn’t quite understand the ways of shifters.

She was, however, ecstatic to be gaining a sister in Geri. Since Apollo was an immortal god, the only way they could be together was for Geri to become one of them. Thankfully, the other gods and goddesses of Olympus agreed to give Geri the golden apple of immortality. It was usually an honor reserved for demi-gods—a child of a god and mortal, or a mortal who truly deserved it—but they wanted to give it a shot anyway.

Artemis gave herself a mental pat on the back, as she had been instrumental in convincing the council to allow this to happen. She made the case that Apollo and Geri’s circumstances were special, after all. He was the chosen mate of a shifter, and it would have been cruel to Apollo to watch Geri die, and he would also suffer if the bond were to be broken. She also argued that nature had deemed the bonding sacred in the first place, as per shifter law, and that it would be going against nature to keep them apart.

The council ruled in their favor; however, that did come with one stipulation—that Geri live in Olympus for one year without leaving so that she could understand what it meant to be one of them. Geri, of course, agreed, but she also wanted to have her wedding with her family and pack on the Upperworld before she came to Olympus.

This was why Artemis was here, in the middle of nowhere in Alaska, trying to salvage this event, and battling one bull-headed chef.

When she arrived here this morning, Geri asked—no, practically begged—for her help. “Please, whatever you can do, I’d appreciate it,” Geri had said. “Everyone’s so busy, I’m sure they could use a hand.”

And so, Artemis would lend a hand—even if some people didn’t realize they needed it.

The standoff between goddess and shifter stretched on, with neither budging.

She decided to switch her tactic. “I think we can do better than this.”

“We?” His voice rose. “Didn’t you hear me when I said this was my kitchen?”

Artemis smiled her sweetest smile at him. “Which means you can still remedy this. “Instead of fish and chips, how about…a ceviche instead?” She clapped her hands together. “We can plate it with some fresh tomatoes and?—”

“What do you think this is, missy, The Ritz?”

No one would make that mistake , Artemis said to herself as she glanced around the roomy yet rustic kitchen. While the rest of the spacious cabin—more like a mansion, really—was updated and modern, the kitchen was another story. Cast iron and copper pots and pans hung over what looked like a wood-burning stove. The stained and scarred surface of the large prep table in the middle of the room had seen better days. Metal tongs, wooden spoons, carving forks, and other medieval-looking tools hung on hooks on one wall.

Yes, this kitchen had definitely been left behind—in the 80s.

The 1880s, she snickered to herself.

“Surely such minor menu changes are no problem for a professional like yourself?” she said.

The man’s nostrils flared. “No one invited you in here.” He stretched out an arm, gesturing toward the door. “Get. Out. Of. My. Kitchen.”

A squeak of indignation escaped her mouth. “How rude.”

“Rude?” His scowled deepened. “I’m not the one marching into someone else’s kitchen, demanding to change the free food they’ll be eating.”

Well, when he put it that way, it did sound rude. “I was trying to help,” she reasoned. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

Geri had practically begged her to help with today’s ceremony, after all, and Artemis would do anything for her.

“Are you saying I can’t do my job?” he groused. “I’ve been this pack’s chef for two decades. No one has complained about my cooking.”

“This isn’t just one meal,” she retorted. “This is the wedding of my brother and a prominent member of your clan. They deserve the best.”

“I am giving them the best.” His face turned purple. “Now, leave this kitchen or?—”

“Or what? Are you going to eat me?”

“Excuse me?” he roared. “You think that I would harm a woman? And that we shifters eat people? What kind of moronic?—”

“What the hell is going on in here?”

The low baritone from behind made every muscle in Artemis’s body tense, making her unable to move an inch.

“Someone answer me. Now.”

Slowly, she turned on her heel, her gaze locking with twin green orbs, the color of emeralds. A strange jolt shot through her at the eye contact with a dark-haired stranger, and she swore every single hair on her body rose up.

After living for millennia, Artemis had met many living beings—gods, men, and all creatures in between. She’d met with enemies on the battlefield, friends at the banquet table.

But no one had ever had this effect on her. Sure, he was good-looking. With his tousled dark locks, strong jaw, straight nose, and cut cheekbones, he could probably be a model, but that wasn’t why she couldn’t stop staring at him, nor why her throat was dry as a desert. There was just something about him…

“Well?” Despite his casual attire of jeans and red and black flannel, something about his demeanor charged the air around them. He stalked toward them with the litheness of a predator, an edge of danger around him.

A sexy, attractive predator.

“Alpha,” the chef greeted in a respectful, muted tone.

Alpha.

Ah, so this was Geri’s brother.

It was probably a bad idea to be drooling after him, right? After all, they would be related by marriage soon. Might make things awkward.

Artemis cleared her throat. “You must be Cade Anderson. I’m Artemis, Goddess?—”

“I know who you are.” The Alpha stopped about a foot away from her. While the chef was taller and burlier than him, there was no denying the sheer force of power emanating from this man.

Or the look of pure disdain on his face.

Something uncomfortable tugged at her gut. Composing herself, she said, “Great. That’ll save me the trouble of trying to explain why I’m right, and your chef is wrong.”

A dark brow rose up as Cade focused just over her head. “Hank?”

“This broad wants to change my menu for the mating dinner.”

“Is that so?” Amusement flitted across his face before being replaced once again by that stern mask. “And how did that go for you, my lady ?”

The honorific, too, was laced with distaste. “Now that you’re here, Alpha, perhaps you can explain to your chef the importance of this event and that everything must be perfect to celebrate Geri and Apollo’s joining. This is the last night she’ll be here, after all.”

“For a year, you mean. And a year isn’t even that long.”

“Of course not. But surely you’ll miss her while she’s away? And you want her to have the best possible reception dinner?”

The corner of his mouth tugged up. “If you think shit like this matters to Geri, then maybe you don’t know her very well.”

“Well, things like this matter to me—I mean, Apollo. And our people. He is a god, after all.”

That didn’t seem to sway him. “And what things does her lady—his lord—want?”

“Not”—she tapped a hand on the menu—“fish and chips. This is not the boardwalk at the Jersey Shore.”

“It’s too late to change anything, Alpha,” the chef—Hank, apparently—interjected. “Besides, you know what happened the last time someone tried to mess with me in my kitchen.”

The Alpha’s nostrils flared. “Listen, I know you’re a guest?—”

“I am the sister of the groom.”

“And a guest in our territory. But—” A loud vibration interrupted him. Fishing his phone out of his jeans pocket, he glanced at the screen, his scowl deepening. “No,” he said without missing a beat as he placed the phone to his ear. “Tell your client we aren’t selling.”

With a snort, he tapped on the screen and slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Now,” he continued. “Where were we? Ah, yes.” With one step, he closed the distance between them. “As I said, you are a guest.”

“And so I should be treated like one.”

“And so you should act like one. Stop harassing my chef.”

“I was not harassing him,” she retorted, indignant. “I was merely?—”

“I am Alpha here, and my word is law.”

“But—”

“Hank started working the menu weeks ago,” he interrupted. “He ordered the ingredients and stayed up last night doing all the prep work, along with his regular duties as the pack’s chef. Changing things would not only disrupt his work, but also, would waste all the time and money we’ve already spent. I know both those concepts might seem trivial to someone like you, but around here where life off the grid is not easy and we fend for ourselves, we respect everyone’s contributions to the whole pack.”

Artemis opened her mouth, but clamped it shut, the heat of embarrassment creeping up her cheeks. “I-I didn’t think…” She took a deep breath. “You’re right, I apologize, Hank.” While she wanted things to be perfect, she also knew when to back down.

On this matter, anyway. She promised Geri she would help with the ceremony, and she meant to keep that promise.

“Alright, I guess I could find somewhere else I can be useful.”

“Good,” Hank huffed. “Now, leave my kitchen.”

Artemis flashed a look at Cade that said, “Can you believe he said that?” which was promptly ignored as the Alpha grunted, turned around, and walked out of the kitchen.

“Well, now,” she said, her tone bristling with indignation. That strange tug at her gut returned, but she ignored it. So, the Alpha obviously didn’t like her, but it wasn’t like she could do anything about it.

Besides, who cares what one man—no matter how gorgeous he was—thought of her anyway? Many men over the last thousands of years had chased after her, and surely there would be many more in the future.

Pushing him out of her mind, she decided to concentrate on things that were more important than her silly little attraction to a man who obviously hated her.

No, she had work to do.

Surely, if everyone was busy with the wedding today, she could find someone who could use her helping hand.

“For the last time. Leave. Me. Alone!”

Artemis clucked her tongue. Was everyone around here so rude and stubborn?

“You’re clearly in need of some help, I mean, look at this place.” She gestured around her, where only one side of the aisle had chairs unfolded and set up. Bundles of flowers and rolls of burlap were stacked in the corner, while two young teens were arranging a table with what appeared to be DJ equipment. Only half of the lights had been strung across the ceiling, the rest trailing down from the wooden beams above like limp spaghetti. “And, really, a wedding in a barn? This is like, so twenty-tens.”

After being unceremoniously kicked out of the kitchen, Artemis thought to make herself useful by helping with the decorations. After asking around, someone directed her toward the person in charge of the decor, a petite, brunette woman named Hannah.

But, much like Hank, she was not receptive to Artemis’s offers of assistance.

“I don’t want your help or need it.” Hannah waved her away. “We’re fine.”

“Surely we can come up with something better than this?”

Hannah’s head snapped up. “And what’s wrong with this?”

“Nothing’s wrong with them, of course. But it’s just so…” She wanted to say basic , but it might sound insulting. “It’s not…him. My brother, I mean. I mean, this is his ceremony too, right?” While the flowers and decor would probably all look beautiful once everything was set up, it just needed something more .

Something to make it perfect.

“I got it!” she exclaimed gleefully. “Wait right here!”

“What—”

With a snap of her fingers, everything and everyone around her—the barn, the roses, Hannah and her crew—disappeared, only to be replaced by a resplendent field of tall, bright yellow flowers stretching out toward the sky.

“Ah, there you go. Sunflowers.”

Reaching up, she touched one of the large, yellow blooms, caressing the soft petals and running her fingers over the textured center. She closed her eyes, thinking of a memory from long ago.

Artemis had been crying. Why, she couldn’t remember; it was thousands of years ago after all.

Actually, she could remember why. She just didn’t want to.

Because it was the day she found out the worst news of her life.

“And what are you doing, moping around here?” Apollo had asked as he appeared behind her. “If you wanted to be around the sun all you had to do was come to me and—what the hell? Have you been crying?”

“Go away, Apollo,” she had snapped. “Leave me alone.”

Those words, as they always did, had the opposite effect. “No way. Pes mu , what’s wrong.”

“Nothing, I—” The sincerity in her brother’s eyes had broken something in her, and so she burst into tears as she crumpled in his arms.

And that day, in that field of sunflowers, even as she thought her life would be meaningless, Apollo had managed to make her forget her worries, not to mention, had her laughing in no time.

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect and whole,” she declared to the bloom. “Just the way you are.”

Smiling to herself, she picked several blooms, gathering them in her arms until she couldn’t carry anymore. Using her magic, she transported herself back to the barn.

“I’m back and—” She blinked. Hannah and the teens were nowhere to be found. “Huh? Where’s everyone? Hannah?”

Hearing no answer, she shrugged and trotted out of the barn.

The Alaska pack’s complex outside Anchorage was vast, covering acres and acres of lush, pristine forest, miles away from civilization. While members of the pack lived in cabins all over the land, according to Geri, most of the pack’s daily social activities revolved around the main lodge, a humongous log cabin structure in the center of their territory, and their community center. Thankfully, that meant she didn’t have to go traipsing around the forest, looking for Hannah. She quickly spotted the she-wolf walking down the path toward the lodge.

“Hannah!” She scurried toward the older woman. “Hannah!” She sped up, eventually catching up.

Hannah continued to walk, barely giving her a glance. “What now?”

“See?” Blocking Hannah’s path, Artemis shook the flowers at her. “Aren’t these divine? They’ll be perfect for the ceremony.”

“They won’t go with the roses and the rest of the decor.”

“We can find a place for them,” she insisted. “I—wait!” she called as Hannah sidestepped her and continued to walk away. “Sunflowers—god of the sun—can’t you see the connection? And they would still match the burlap and twine, and if you ask me, it goes with the rustic theme. And so, can’t you see that these sunflowers would look so much better than the roses?” Artemis blew out a breath. “I mean, really! Roses are so overdone.”

“Hello, Hannah,” a familiar voice greeted. “Artemis.”

It was Geri, and she wasn’t alone. Not only was Apollo here, but so was

Hades, Persephone, and of course, him .

Cade.

She avoided his gaze, knowing that there would be nothing friendly in them.

“There you are,” Artemis said to Geri. “I’m glad you’re here. You should have seen what they did with the barn.”

“And what exactly did we do?” Hannah said defensively. “Except decorate it the way we always do whenever we have a mating ceremony.”

Artemis sighed. “It was fine. Beautiful, really. But I just thought, we need to do something different. And so, I found these”—she nodded at the sunflowers in her arms—“and thought, these would just tie up the theme better, you know?”

Hannah muttered something under her breath before turning to Cade. “Alpha, I swear if you don’t do something about this woman, I’m never going to help out at another ceremony or pack event.”

Cade rubbed the bridge of his nose with this thumb and forefinger. “I’ll take care of it.”

With an angry huff, Hannah marched off.

“ You .” Cade walked over to Artemis, towering over her. “Didn’t I tell you to stop harassing my people?”

“I was not harassing them, Alpha,” Artemis protested. “I was trying to help .”

“Our chef nearly quit this morning. Do you know how hard it is to find someone to come out here and work for us?”

“Geri said I could help. I just want things to be perfect for my brother and his future wife.”

“They will be—” Cade stopped short.

Artemis sucked in a breath. Something had shifted in the air, what, she didn’t know. But Cade had a perturbed expression on his face, and she could guess he wasn’t the type of man who easily lost his composure.” “What’s the?—”

“Shush, woman!” Cade hissed. “Geri? Do you hear that?”

Geri’s eyes narrowed, as if she were concentrating. “It’s a bo?—”

Artemis wasn’t sure what came first—the sound of the explosion bursting her eardrums or the force that knocked her off her feet. When she tried to get up, she found herself unable to move as a heavy weight pinned her to the ground.

What in the gods’ and goddesses’ names happened?

And why was the object on top of her breathing ?

She took a deep breath, the scent of a masculine cologne tickling her nose.

Was this…?

As she opened her eyes, the scrap red and black flannel fabric draped over her forehead confirmed what—or who—was on top of her. As the ringing in her ears began to subside, she heard faint voices somewhere above her.

Cade let out a long groan and shuddered.

“Help!” she croaked. “Get this hulk off me!”

The weight lifted off her, and she took a deep gulp of oxygen, nearly choking as the air she breathed tasted thick and acrid in the back of her throat. Then there was the smell of burnt fabric and skin that made her want to vomit.

“Oh gods, I’m sorry, Alpha!” Artemis cried as she sat up, pushing the crushed sunflowers off her. Cade struggled to stay upright, and his face was scrunched up in pain. His hair and face were covered in soot and bits of dirt, but from his expression, she could only guess what his back looked like.

“Why did you do that?” She had to help him. With her magic, he’d be healed in an instant.

Cade winced as she reached out to touch his shoulder. “Damn it, don’t touch me! Leave it, I’ll be fine. I heal fast.”

“You’ll heal faster if you let me?—”

Cade shrank away from her touch. “I said, leave me alone.”

Ignoring that tug in her gut once more, she crossed her arms and harrumphed. “Fine. Go ahead and suffer.” See if I care.

“I saved you ,” he reminded her.

Save her? “Did you forget I’m immortal?” she retorted. “I can’t die easily, and I can heal myself.”

“Yeah, well, your pretty little face would be minced meat if it wasn’t for me.”

Artemis didn’t know what to say to that. While she wouldn’t have died, she could definitely have been hurt badly. As hurt and in agony as he was right now.

Stupid, stubborn wolf! She could take care of that in a flash, but for some reason, he refused her help, just like every person in the place.

“Goddammit.” Cade spat blood on the ground. He glanced back at the barn—or rather what was left of it.

Artemis gasped. There was barely anything left standing in the spot where the structure used to be, except for a few wood beams sticking out from the ground and smoldering piles of timber. For a second, she wondered if anyone was hurt, but remembered it had been empty when she reappeared there. If she had been a few minutes later…well, not even an immortal could survive being completely obliterated.

“What the fuck happened?” Cade growled.

Apollo frowned. “I don’t know. Could it have been an accident?”

“There’s nothing in that barn that could have set off an explosion like that.” Cade attempted to get up, waving away Geri’s hand. “Hannah and the crew strung up a few lights and set up the DJ booth and sound system. But that’s all solar-powered, and we haven’t turned on the batteries yet. Fuck, I hope no one was in there.”

Geri snapped her fingers. “The ticking.”

“Yeah,” Cade said, his eyes darkening.

“What ticking?” Artemis asked as she scrambled to her feet. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Geri tapped her ear. “Shifter hearing, remember? Cade and I heard a ticking sound right before the explosion.”

“You mean, like a timed bomb?” Apollo sucked in a breath. “Who would want to bomb your barn?”

“I don’t know,” Cade growled. “But when I find out, I’m going to hunt them down, and they’re going to wish they were dead.”

Once again, every hair on her body rose, but this time, Artemis knew why.

Cade’s deadly words did not sound like a threat.

No, it was a promise, and one that he intended to keep.