What the fuck was going on here?
It was like, in the face of my hesitance, all of hers had disappeared.
She wasn’t shaking in her shoes as Poseidon approached, wasn’t even nauseated by the turbulence of the ocean beneath us. No. She stood straight and tall.
The true consort of a God of my status.
Even as that thought hit home, Poseidon’s steps whispered to a halt as he stood before her. I froze as he reached up, his hand coming to touch her chin.
Every part of me wanted to slap his hand away, but I didn’t. Couldn’t.
She’d disrespected him so brutally that—
God, I couldn’t even finish the thought.
“You are brave for one so young,” he murmured, his voice as soft as a dagger slicing into a belly.
“I am not brave,” she countered, her hands balling into tight fists. “I’m scared. Very scared. But there isn’t much you can do to me if the sun storm I helped create fries us all. You can save your posturing for afterward, okay?” Then, she compounded her folly by shaking her head and muttering, “Men, all you do is talk. We need action.”
She reached up and grabbed his wrist, but she didn’t let go, didn’t allow him to release his hold on her. The two stared at each other for a handful of seconds, then Poseidon stunned the life out of me by dipping his chin in agreement.
“We will meet again, Ella,” he told her, the words half warning, half promise.
“Can’t wait,” she grumbled as, without a look at the rest of us, he turned on his heel and returned from whence he’d came.
For a second, I wasn’t the only one speechless. We all were.
Had she just done that? Had Poseidon just walked away?
Of the Big Three, he was the calmest, but still? That calm?
No.
Just… No.
I sucked down a sharp breath. “Ella, do you realize you almost started a war there?”
“Maybe,” she said with a shrug.
In the time it took for me to suck down some breath so I could reprimand her, Lux was there, and his hands were on her shoulders. I could tell he wanted to shake her, instead, he rasped, “He could have killed you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think so.”
I stared at her. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I know him.”
“What?” Achilles blurted out.
“I don’t know how. I just… I’ve seen his face.” She reached up and rubbed her temples as she did when her past collided with her present.
It was as natural as taking my next breath to reach up and send a healing wave her way as I stroked my hands over her hair. The minute I did, she closed her eyes. “He visited someone at my hospital.”
That had all of us staring at her with bewilderment, but Castor was the one who asked, “Who?”
“I worked in the burn unit. It was a man. He’d been burned when his oxygen tank exploded.”
Our time was running out, and yet, my interest had never been more piqued. Poseidon rarely left his territory. He lived in the ocean itself, having been gifted Atlantis as his land by Zeus. Of course, it was empty, consisting of nothing save his palace for his guardians to live in, but he rarely meddled with human lives.
Or, so we’d believed.
“Who was the patient?” Achilles asked, and I realized he was just as interested by our ever-surprising mate. I couldn’t even begin to describe the ennui Achilles subsisted in.
That Ella pricked his curiosity was infinitely reassuring.
“He was a diver. I remember because it was so strange. Las Vegas isn’t exactly next to the sea, you know? But he was part of some dig. This woman, his daughter, used to visit him and then, Poseidon.” She licked her lips. “I knew him. Spoke with him because he visited at night. I got good vibes off him.”
Good vibes?
I almost choked.
Poseidon? The King of the Seven Seas themselves?
My woman, I realized, was the queen of the understatement.
❖
Castor
“I’m not entirely sure why you thinking he has good vibes would make you think you could talk to a God and a king that way, Ella, but now isn’t the time to talk about this. We have shit we need to do.”
At my words, she smiled. “Are you always so sensible?”
“Infinitely so,” I retorted, and even though I was still aghast at what she’d just done, how she’d just acted out, I was also partly amused by her.
Talk about rocking the boat!
Literally.
She was a salve, a welcome respite. She would never cease surprising us, and after several thousand years, that was wondrous.
Apollo heaved a sigh, and I could tell he was just as taken aback by the situation we had just witnessed.
How couldn’t he be?
No one spoke to a God that way and lived to tell the tale, yet our tín eaftoú gynaíka had.
“I have something for you, Ella. I meant to give it to you earlier when we were visiting my temple.”
She tilted her head to the side and watched him retreat to the deck where he’d placed the box he’d stashed there earlier. “What is it?”
He opened it and retrieved the wreath of gold leaves. It sparkled in the moonlight, and her eyes widened. “My God, what is it?”
“Your crown,” he replied. “You are my queen, are you not?”
Her eyes widened. “I’m not exactly queen material, Apollo.”
That she was selling herself short made sense, considering she’d always believed herself just to be an average human, but it didn’t stop it from pissing me off—my brother guardians and Apollo too, by the looks of it.
“I believe I am the one who would know what is required of his queen.”
His snooty tone had her narrowing her eyes. Firstly, at him, and then at the wreath. She swallowed. “When do I wear it?”
“All the time.”
“I can’t wear that to go to Target, Apollo,” she chided, but I could hear her amusement and was touched by it.
I’d thought, when Poseidon had first made his appearance and she’d slumped to the ground, that she’d been taken utterly aback by what was happening. That she’d been too out of her depths. And then, from out of nowhere, she’d done what none of us ever had.
She’d confronted Poseidon.
She’d taken charge of the situation.
How she’d leaped from one side of the fence to the other, I didn’t know. But I had to wonder if the duality of her nature was why. Ella had been strong before, I knew. She’d worked on the burn unit, and from my dealings with Apollo’s talents for healing, not only was she an apt consort, but I knew how tough it was to work in that part of a hospital. Cindy, on the other hand, had been a pampered princess. Sheltered from life by her father, and then her mother once the horrid truth of James DiStefano’s secret crimes had been revealed to the world.
Ella was a fighter.
Cindy? Well, she was not.
I was reminded of that when Ella didn’t hold back and her hand came out to trace the gold leaves. At the touch, Apollo shuddered as though there was a sexual connection between him and the wreath itself.
Wondering what that was about, even when I knew Apollo was just weird sometimes, I watched as he asked, “May I—” He motioned with the headdress and I realized he was nervous.
In my many years, I’d seen Apollo be many things, but nervous? No. He was too arrogant, too much of a pain in the ass to be nervous because being nervous required you to give a shit about someone other than yourself, and up until now, he hadn’t. The only time he gave a crap was where his guardians were concerned, and I wasn’t even sure if that was because he cared about us or if his sanity rested on the fact that we were whole and healthy.
Apollo, until now, had never been particularly likable. Harsh but true. We had a duty to protect him, even Achilles who pretty much loathed the other man because of his role in his ‘or
iginal’ death. But for all that, we’d had a semblance of friendship over the years, and I had a feeling Ella was going to move mountains where his likeability was concerned.
“Won’t people see it?” she inquired, eying the wreath warily.
“They will, but people are weird now. They can wear dresses made of meat—”
She snorted. “Lady GaGa did that and I wouldn’t exactly say it went down well. She couldn’t go to Costco in it.”
“And since when will my queen be doing anything so mundane as visiting Costco?” he countered, his voice a purr.
“If you can guarantee a lifetime free of chores then I’d be stupid to pass up this offer, wouldn’t I?” she retorted dryly, but though her tone was amused, her eyes told a different tale. There were the usual shadows there, but there was a new brightness.
Was she happy?
I hoped so. Even if we had a solar storm heading our way, her state of mind was all that mattered.
“I can do better,” Apollo said calmly, and she quirked a brow at him in question. “I can offer several lifetimes free of chores.”
She pursed her lips. “That’s very true.” Then, licking said lips, she asked, “May I?”
I could tell Apollo wanted to be the one to lay it upon her head, but he ignored his instincts, and placed the headdress in her possession. She accepted it with gentle hands and raised her arms to crown herself—I had to smile at that.
Even in this, Ella was trying to assert her independence.
I was reminded of the moment Apollo had created this tiara of laurel leaves. He’d taken them from the ancient ones that were scattered around his altar, the true symbol of his reign, of his misery and his solitude and Daphne’s sacrifice. I remembered how he’d anointed each one in water and turned them to gold, making a wreath that was worthy of only one woman in this world.
It had been forged from a God’s powers, but it morphed into something else entirely when it rested atop her head.
The veins of each leaf had been prominent thanks to their ancient and desiccated nature, but now? Light seemed to glow from within the gold, illuminating each individual vein, making it sparkle and shimmer in the growing darkness of night.
She closed her eyes and, before us, her veins began to glimmer, as though she’d captured the sun’s rays in her blood and was willing it to shine. It reminded me of when you placed your fingers on an illuminated screen, how your fingers would glow pink. Well, Ella was one big glow.
“What the fuck?” Lux asked hoarsely, and I almost slapped him upside the head because only he’d break up such an intense moment with cursing.
Apollo whispered, “I can feel her.”
Achilles stilled at our side. “What do you mean? How can you feel her?”
He closed his eyes. “I don’t know. It’s like…” A shake of his head, at himself, seemed to be all he was capable of as his words trailed off.
Achilles bristled with impatience, Lux with confusion, but I was the calmest of us and knew that Apollo would explain when he could. Whatever was happening was enough to surprise the man himself.
As the rays in our wife’s veins seemed to die down, I felt it, and on either side of me, my twin and my brother guardian stiffened as Apollo did something he’d never done before.
He let go.
When the humans had ceased believing in them, the powers of the main Gods had surged, creating instability among them. With the powers they were capable of, and petty infighting among the Gods on the rise—infighting that could lead to wars—Zeus had raised long-dead men to guard each God.
We weren’t bodyguards, not in the human sense. We weren’t protecting Apollo’s person. We were protecting his spirit, his sanity from the insane amount of power he had to control.
Our souls were tied to him and to the candles that burned evermore upon his altar. We were one with him, existing only because he channeled power through us and with that power, we existed and drained off his ‘excess,’ keeping him on a level playing field, and redressing the loss of balance that had occurred when they’d lost the humans’ faith.
It was only now, however, that I realized how little he’d trusted us. When he let go, I felt the sudden surge as his equilibrium shifted. It settled like a heavy burden on my shoulders, but equally, it felt right. Like we should always have had this weight.
Achilles rocked back on his heels and blew out a breath that was loud enough to catch my attention, to drag me from my thoughts that were dealing with my own changed state. I looked at him, just casting him a glance, and saw the lines of tension, of strain, had disappeared. They were no longer bracketing his brow, no longer making his mouth a tight line that spoke of his misery.
What was happening here?
When I looked at Lux, he gulped, his eyes wide as he stared at me. The bond between us was more than just of blood, it had been forged in the womb. As our gazes connected, I felt the ricochet of power inside him as well as I could in my own soul. It grounded me in a way that I hoped Achilles shared—it was like the tectonic plates beneath us were shifting, grinding together, creating our very own personal earthquake.
Ella reached out, and I felt the ghost-like whisper of her touch as her fingers brushed our bellies while she turned in a circle made of the four of us; her men, inadvertently, standing at each of the cardinal compass points.
Where she’d touched me, it burned. God, it burned. I felt my cock harden, my dick stirring to life even in the face of the uncertainty I was feeling.
I wanted her, more than she could ever know, more than she would ever understand.
She was mine.
Ours.
And it was time we proved that to her.
❖
Achilles
Could I begin to describe what I was feeling?
No.
There were no words, in no language, to describe the ingrained sense of connectedness I suddenly felt.
It wasn’t just a link that united me to Ella or the other guardians, it was a wholesome bond to Apollo. Something I’d never felt before. Something I’d never imagined feeling.
Was this why I’d never trusted him?
Had I always intrinsically known that he was holding back? Had I known that he didn’t trust us, didn’t trust me to help corral his incredible powers?
Out of nowhere, I had links to the Earth, to the sun itself. I could feel a thousand sensations that I’d never anticipated—anything from a unity with the soil to the far off reaches of doctors who were working on a cure for AIDS—their muse was tied to Apollo, and through him, me.
A quarter of me wanted to focus on these new sensations, but the other three quarters switched gears as Ella brushed her fingers over my belly.
I’d been semi-hard for a while now. The prospect of what we were about to do? Hell yeah, I was ready to make her ours. But now?
Jesus Christ, I felt like I could combust. As though I needed the orgasm to release the intense feelings that were flooding my body.
“Raise your hands, Ella,” Apollo directed, his voice husky with a mixture of need and fear.
Her eyes were dazed as she turned to him, but she complied. It made me wonder what she was feeling, made me wonder what was going on in her head, but from the way her eyes were glassy, I realized she was acting purely on instinct. Ella had left the building for the moment as she dealt with the Pandora’s box she’d just opened when she’d crowned herself.
When her hands pointed skyward, Apollo continued, “Can you feel the sun? It’s resting now night has fallen, but it’s alive, it’s always alive.”
She hummed under her breath, and we took that as an assent.
“Can you feel the flares? The surging of the flares?”
Her brow puckered, and the long hum broke off as she processed his words.
“We need to channel that into the crystals. Are you ready, my wife?”
Her eyes opened and when they did, Apollo’s nostrils flared. The tips of her fingers were glowing. Not l
ike before, not a faint burning gleam, but as though they were small lightbulbs that were connected to the electric grid itself. And her eyes? Holy hell, they were burning too. Where her irises were, there was no longer the azure color that reminded me of sapphires. There were small suns that burned like white fire.
“You’re mine,” she rasped, and her voice was so unlike her usual tone it jolted me.
There were no hints of lightness or joviality. There was only a solemn vow that said her words were law.
“We are,” Apollo said, and each of us uttered the statement as it went around in a circle.
“Come to me,” she breathed, and who were we to disobey?
We moved toward her, surrounding her with a wall of male flesh, of bodies that belonged to her in a way that no one would ever be able to comprehend.
She tipped forward, her hands coming to rest on Apollo’s chest, and she kissed him. Daintily, at first. A small peck on his mouth, then, her tongue slipped out to cover his lips as though she were applying lipstick. She turned in a circle and did the same to each of us, and when she reached me, her hands slipped to my hips and she whispered, “Kiss Castor.”
I blinked at her. “Why?”
“Because I want to see.”
I cast Apollo a look, and he nodded. “We must all be in sync if this is to work.” His tone was grim, and I knew the strain was firmly on his shoulders while his guardians merely enjoyed what was about to happen.
Turning to the left, I slipped a hand behind Tor’s neck and hauled him to me. Our torsos brushed, our cocks nudged the other’s, and we groaned at the connection—it had been too long since we’d been this way with one another. Far too long.
A grunt escaped him as I nipped his bottom lip, demanding entry into his mouth, and then, when he ceded to my dominance—something that involved less of a tussle than usual because of the situation—I thrust my tongue against his, and together, we danced to a rhythm of our own making.
His hands slipped down to grab my ass, and I ground my dick into his belly. It felt good, but what felt even better was the wet kiss of pre-cum against my stomach. I loved the sticky texture and wanted to taste it, but then I heard a groan, and even as I pulled back to press my forehead to Tor’s, I saw that Lux and Apollo had moved onto Ella. She was sandwiched between them, her body bare and gleaming in the moonlight, her breasts pressed against Apollo’s chest in taut, plump swells that made my mouth water.
The Sun Revolves Around Apollo (The Gods Are Back In Town Book 2) Page 20