Scorched

by Jendela Tryst

  Wanting to give him what he had so selflessly given to her, Psyche boldly placed her hands on his shoulder and pulled him closer, kissing him back hungrily. When she felt him against her, she couldn’t help stiffening nervously.

  “Please forgive me,” she heard him choke. Before she could ask him for what, she felt a searing pain and cried out. He was holding very still, but the pain began giving way to other feelings as he continued to kiss her cheeks, her ears, and her neck. Her body began to relax and the familiar yearning returned. Psyche reached up and clung to his neck, pushing her hands into thick, soft curls and pressing his lips down to hers. In no time at all, they both began the most primal of dances and Psyche again felt herself being taken to a place where she did not think she would ever wish to return.

  Chapter 19

  The next morning, Psyche awoke feeling blissfully happy. She looked around and saw that she was alone in a room with only a single window high above her head. It looked more like a tower, based on the cylindrical shape. There was a fireplace and a single unlit candle on an unadorned table and chair. Compared to the gorgeousness of the rest of the palace, the room felt sadly barren. The bed was luxurious and wonderful, but the fact that they spent such a magnificent evening in such a drab location saddened Psyche.

  She clutched the soft linens, thinking how she was going to get dressed alone, when she heard familiar soft steps from the doorway. Psyche stopped wondering how her maid always knew when she awoke or where she was for that matter, but she was not surprised when she heard the cheerful voice.

  “Awake at last!” Cordelia greeted. “Although I don’t blame you one bit for sleeping in. Now, now, don’t be bashful. I have some warm water for you to soak in and a fresh gown. The master has left for the day but he should be back for supper. You are not to feel at all abandoned, that was what he told me. Now come, come. The sooner we get you out of this sad little room, the better.”

  “It is a sad looking room.” Psyche frowned. “I don’t like it one bit. Cordelia, I would like to fix it up. If this is the room my husband and I are to share, then it needs to have more care in it. It needs to be honored properly.”

  “Well, I guess I could have it properly aired out...”

  “I want it redone completely. He likes it because it is the darkest room in the palace, I imagine. And he feels safe here. Well, safety doesn’t have to mean stark barrenness. Bring in some rugs and a more comfortable seat and some fresh flowers. No candles, just one for when I need to read something.”

  By the end of the day, the room was prepared and Psyche felt more satisfied. It held the warmth and the intimacy that she felt for her husband. When he arrived that evening, she sensed him looking around hesitantly.

  “I leave for a few hours and you managed to change everything.”

  “Yes,” she put the papyri down and went towards the candle to blow it out.

  “No, wait just a moment. I want to look at you for a bit.”

  Psyche blushed. She was glad she had taken the extra time to choose her dress this evening. “I wish I could return the favor.”

  “Not this again?”

  “You know I will never stop.”

  He did not reply so she decided to change the subject. She gestured to the room.

  “I wanted the room to be more welcoming. More appropriate.”

  “I see.” His voice took a sorrowful note. “I’m sorry it was such a miserable place before. I was not planning to have... company.”

  Psyche’s curiousity peaked. “Is this where you slept all this time?”

  “I don’t really sleep. Only rest. And in case you followed me, or found this place, I wanted to make sure it was dark, even in the daytime.”

  “You chose the perfect place then, for our first… evening.”

  “It was either this or the empty dungeon below the library. I figured this was the better choice of the two.”

  Psyche laughed. “I would have to agree with you.”

  “I already have a terrible reputation. Goodness knows what you would have thought of me if I took you there.”

  “I am your wife. Surely you knew we would… come together eventually.”

  He was silent for a moment. “I never knew. I just hoped.”

  “Why did you take so long?”

  “I wanted you to be ready. I didn’t want to... risk anything.”

  Suddenly, something moved from the shadowy corner and floated to the table in the middle of the room. Psyche gasped when she saw the dagger. It was the same one that her mother had given her. The one she had flung from the cliff.

  “How did you—”

  “It is not important. What is important is for you to have a weapon, not necessarily against me, but against anyone or anything on this island.”

  “A weapon? But I thought I was safe here.”

  “You are, Psyche, for now. But... one can never be too sure. Venturing outside is not safe especially when unarmed. This is a special weapon. One that can hurt even immortals.”

  Psyche picked up the weapon, surprised to see it again, remembering her mother’s ugly words, and set it back down.

  The shadow continued. “You are my wife, and I must make sure you are safe.”

  Psyche smiled, liking the sound of the sentence. “I am your wife. In truth now,” she reminded him, “not just in name.”

  “There is no escape now,” he agreed.

  “I did not wish to escape. It is as if it is all a dream.”

  “A good dream, I hope.”

  “The best. You are too far away.” Psyche put the dagger away and moved forward to blow out the candle. This time, he did not stop her. The room was immediately cloaked in blackness. Psyche would have felt anxious, but within moments she felt him near her and an instant later, they were touching. She suddenly felt herself lifted off the floor again and was moving towards the bed. Only this time, there was a strange smoothness to the motion, as if his feet never touched the floor. Before she could think anymore on this, however, his kisses made her forget all other thought, and she lost herself in the blissful familiarity of her more carnal senses.

  That evening, Psyche roused from her deep slumber to see the only window high above her head pale with moonlight. The room around her was still covered in darkness and she reached out expecting the bed to again be empty and was surprised when she felt the stiff warmth of her husband’s body behind her. In the dimness, she could not even see his outline, but she moved closer to it. He moaned softly in his sleep and immediately caught her in his arms. Within moments, they were enjoying one another again. A long time later, she sighed into his arms.

  “I wish we could stay like this all day,” she murmured against his chest, drowning in the pleasure of his warm body.

  He said nothing, but she felt his kiss upon her head before sleep overcame her.

  When Psyche awoke, there was a candle lit in the center of the room but the bed was empty. Something was different. When she looked up at the window, she saw that it had been covered by a thick drape. Before she could wonder how any of the servants got up there without her noticing, a throat cleared at the corner.

  “There is some breakfast by the light if you would like some.”

  It was her husband’s voice. She was so happy he was still here. “I would, thank you. I am famished.” Psyche pushed herself off the bed about to take the sheets with her when she stopped. Wickedly, she dropped them. She stepped naked out to the floor and sat herself upon the comfortable chair she had brought up the day before, surrounded by the light of a single candle. She heard her husband catch his breath.

  “You may join me if you like,” Psyche offered.

  “You know I would want nothing else.”

  “Then why do you stop yourself? The figs are delicious!” Psyche moaned as she took another bite.

  “It is not figs I hunger for right now.”

  “No?” Psyche leaned against the chair and stretched luxuriously. “I would be happy to satisfy any h
unger you might have. You need only to join me in this cozy seat.”

  “I don’t believe you can eat in the dark.”

  “No, I cannot. And I am too hungry to pause now. I guess I shall simply eat here all alone where it is indeed, rather chilly.”

  “Perhaps you ought to get yourself a blanket.”

  “The blanket is so far away...”

  There was a sudden breeze and her candle blew out immediately. Before Psyche could say anything, she felt the blanket wrap itself tightly around her. Before he could make his escape, Psyche found his arms and brought him close once more. The urgency of his lips made her forget breakfast altogether. They made love again on the seat where she had teased him. His body was more urgent than before, as if punishing her for her lewd behavior. There was not a moment she did not enjoy.

  When the candle was relit, Psyche was breathing heavily and feeling wonderful all over. She finished her breakfast wrapped chastely in her blanket, eyeing the corner of the room with a wicked glint in her eye.

  Psyche suddenly realized that the day was late and he still had not left.

  “You do not have to leave this day?”

  “You said you wanted me to stay. I arranged it so that it would be possible.”

  “How did you get the drape over that window?”

  “A ladder, how else?”

  “I don’t see any ladders and I didn’t hear any being brought in.”

  “You are a very heavy sleeper.”

  “You are a very terrible liar.”

  “You best watch that impertinent little tongue or else I will have to blow that candle out again.”

  Psyche leaned forward, and blew the candle out herself. Immediately, she felt the blanket being pulled off of her. She held onto it playfully and they wrestled in the darkness, laughing like children, making love, then sleeping and doing it all over again.

  Psyche was not sure what time it was, but she suspected it was very early morning. Her husband was breathing deeply next to her. Her body ached so blissfully and she knew she was changed forever. How much time they had both wasted! How much she had missed out on. She had never felt more beautiful, more feminine, more alive in her entire life. She turned to the creature that gave all this to her. Her love for him was overwhelming, and yet, she could not forget her mother’s words. How could she love someone she could not see? How could she trust someone who kept such secrets? She was now more certain than ever that he was human in form. What was he hiding then? Could it be so terrible a disfigurement?

  She turned everything over in her head, relived all their intimate moments and could only come to one conclusion. He was afraid of rejection. It was only his fear that kept him hidden from her. How could she prove to him that there was nothing to be afraid of? She realized that the only way she could prove to him that she would love him no matter what would be if she saw him. Besides, having touched him as much as she had, she was certain that she knew basically all that needed knowing. He was not a monster. He was every inch a man. Surely he would forgive her just one glimpse. She could never imagine him cross with her. She wanted to show him that there was nothing to be afraid of and that she would still love him. Only then would he know to stop hiding himself. They could finally be with each other properly in the light of day.

  Psyche raised herself up and slowly felt her way to the center of the room where she knew the candle to be. With shaking hands, she lit the candle. She paused, expecting his demanding voice behind her. Instead, she heard only the continued deep breathing.

  On the table, next to the candle, was the dagger he had given back to her. Psyche looked at it, knowing that he must have been watching her if he knew she had thrown it. Well, there were lots of ways to spy on her. He had much to lose, she couldn’t blame him. So surely, he wouldn’t blame her now for wanting to know? Psyche turned determinedly away from the dagger, knowing she would never wish to hurt him. She still held the candle. If he woke now, she could still claim she was simply looking for something to eat. This seemed like a perfect mortal excuse.

  The bed was only a few steps away.

  Just a glimpse, she told herself. It just seemed so ridiculous, to share what they shared and to not even know, or have any idea, what the face of her beloved looked like. It was an unfair demand. Surely, he would understand this. If not, she would make him understand. She was not shallow like her sisters. She did not care what he looked like. She’d already seen the most important part of him. His heart. His soul. What more was there? He needn’t be afraid.

  Psyche turned and looked towards the bed. She could see only an outline of someone laying there facing her direction. Taking a deep breath, she crept towards the bed. Her feet made no sound against the stone but her heart thundered in her ears. Slowly, the ink black of the sheets became a warm orange color. The first thing she saw was his hand resting peacefully against the sheets where her body had been, still slightly splayed as it had been on her belly. What a perfect hand it was. She blushed when she thought of all the magical, tantalizing things that hand was capable of doing. The fingers were large, strong, immaculately shaped. Certainly nothing disfiguring there. She brought the candle up his arm and saw what she already knew had to be true, that his arms had the muscular sinews of a youth with the perfect balance of strength and beauty. His shoulders she admired, letting her eyes get acquainted with the shape that her cheeks, nose, and hands were already very familiar with. The strong curve of his neck was as beautiful as the rest of him. Before Psyche could raise the candle a little higher, she hesitated.

  Once she did this, there was no going back. She knew what she was doing was of the utmost betrayal, yet she could not stop herself. What if he was an ogre? Or a monster? It did not matter, she promised herself. She would love him no matter what she saw. And she was certain she could convince him of this.

  With trembling hands, she raised the candle just a little higher.

  Chapter 20

  Eros woke to an ear-splitting shriek.

  “YOU!”

  He rose and saw the candle on the ground. Psyche’s furious eyes burned into him as she screeched above him.

  “You lied to me! Erik! Erik all this time!”

  She was upon him, striking him viciously, angry tears streaming down her face.

  In Eros’s surprise, his body instantly illuminated and his wings burst open causing Psyche to reel back in shock and horror, slamming her shoulder against the far stonewall. The candle was no longer needed. His radiance shone like a beacon in the room and he struggled to contain it. He managed to change himself into Erik, the shepherd, again so as not to blind her, but his skin continued to glow slightly, his blood pulsing through his veins with emotion he could not repress.

  Erik’s form was not the best choice. When he rushed forward to try to help Psyche up, she drew back and struck him across the face. Eros was more shocked than hurt as he drew his hands away and stared in agony at the rage that contorted her face.

  “Get away from me!” she screamed.

  “Please, let me explain.”

  Psyche’s eyes broke his heart. They looked upon him with the hatred and disgust he was starting to feel towards himself.

  “Erik. Erik all this time! An immortal? A… a god? Oh, I am so stupid! My mother was right. I am just another play thing!”

  “Psyche, that is not it at all. I knew this would happen. I knew you would never give me a chance.”

  “A chance? A chance to destroy my heart again?”

  “Let me explain—” Impulsively, he reached out to her but she withdrew as if his hands were venomous.

  “Don’t touch me! Don’t ever come near me again. I know how you gods treat your mortal women. I am not a fool!”

  “I am not like the others.”

  “Hah! I don’t believe you. I don’t believe anything you say anymore. I don’t care who you are! I never want to see your face again!”

  With that, she fled the room.

  Eros moved to run after he
r, but the door slammed shut behind her by another force. The drape that covered the single window high above his head was sucked out as if by a violent wind. White light was flooding the room.

  It was no use following her. They all knew.

  Eros and Psyche’s violent emotions radiating from the center of Amorus Island awakened the All-Seeing Eyes. Psyche, a mortal, had seen him in the flesh, and it had driven her to near madness. Her rage had turned the heavens in their direction. Not even the waterfalls surrounding the palace could suppress the power of her reaction and the strength of his. Feelings that strong trembled in the bones of gods, awakening their very marrow.

  Eros looked up and saw Hermes’s grim figure at the window now bare of all covering. His face was stoic, his stance formal. This was not Hermes, Eros’s friend. This was Hermes, the right hand of Zeus. Eros said nothing. He waited for Hermes to come down.

  Hermes stood before Eros. His eyes had a flash of sorrow, then he straightened. “You are to come before Zeus immediately.”

  This was the Hermes Eros knew and dreaded. Hermes, always steady and never swaying from his duties.

  Eros nodded. An eerie silence filled the room. It took a moment for Eros to realize that the distant sound of the waterfalls had stopped. Someone had drained them. His palace had no protection from the All-Seeing Eyes. The gods could see everything.

  At least, they couldn’t hear Eros’s thoughts. The only one who could hear them was Hermes who was close enough. Staring at his old friend squarely, Eros thought the words not moving his eyes.

  Hermes, I beg you. Please watch over her. For me.

  Hermes did not respond but coldly extended his arm towards the single window.

  “I do not need an escort,” Eros told him crossly.Don’t waste anymore time, Hermes. She cannot be alone in those forests. And when Aphrodite finds her... Even in his thoughts he couldn’t finish the sentence. Hermes gave no indication that he heard. He continued to extend his hand.