Soul in Darkness

by Wendy Higgins

  Oh, deep Hades. I had aroused him. Why did that come as such a surprise? Clearly there was some dark part of me that had wondered what he thought of me, physically. Unlike other men, he never harped on about my appearance. Funny how those other men used to irk me so.

  “What do you want?” I asked defensively.

  Again, with that damned chuckle. “What do you want, Wife?”

  My heart danced on its toes and spun, but I said, “Nothing.”

  His humor was not deterred by my attitude. “Nothing? Well, if you insist. Let us get you into bed for a bit of nothingness.”

  Sarcasm. He placed a hot hand at the small of my back, forcing me to suck in a breath as he led me through the room to the bed. I heard him lift Mino and set him on the bedding. I grabbed the blanket, throwing it back and getting myself quickly under it. His footsteps around the bed were even, and then the weight of the soft padding shifted when he climbed in. Mino settled at our feet. I had no idea where Sphinx was.

  For the love of Olympus, heart of mine, be still and relax!

  I lay clutching the blankets at my shoulders, staring up into the darkness, unable to see a thing.

  “I could have sworn you were exhausted.” He was facing me, and his voice still held humor. I should have closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

  “It is not fair that you can see me,” I said grumpily.

  “Of course, it is not fair. Did you believe this arrangement would be fair?”

  I crossed my arms like a petulant child and he laughed as if it were adorable. I uncrossed them.

  “Come now, Psyche,” he soothed. “There must be something you want. Something that will help you relax.”

  My thoughts immediately went to his lips, and I flushed, shaking my head.

  “Have you not enjoyed any of our time together?” he asked. “Is there nothing you like about this place? Please. Tell me. I am truly curious.” There went his curiosity about me again. The level of interest and attention that other men never showed. Damn him.

  My teeth clenched as I struggled to find the right words to explain the ambiguous feelings I had about him and my grand prison.

  “I feel as if I cannot trust what I feel.” I shook my head. “I know that makes little sense. Nothing makes sense here! Sometimes I think Cupid has infected me with his bow, or I’ve been slipped drops of nectar in my tea. My thoughts do not feel like my own.”

  He was quiet for so long, I almost reached out a foot to see if he was still there.

  “I assure you,” he said softly. “Neither of those two things has happened. All of your thoughts, everything you have felt, are your own.”

  My belly turned with nervousness and a tickle of unwanted pleasure. I believed him. I hated that my instincts so strongly believed him and that my heart was desperate for it all to be true and real. I wanted to be on a team with this infuriating creature. That, above all, made no sense.

  “Do you have horns?” I asked in a rush.

  He laughed, something he seemed to do a lot of at my expense.

  “Sit up a moment, Psyche. Face me.” After a moment of hesitation, I did as he asked. “Keep your hands down.” I pressed my gloved palms into the bed at my sides, then held my breath.

  The air escaped my lips in a shudder at the feel of his face pressed against mine, cheek to cheek. He was warm, so warm. His skin was smooth and supple. Gently, he rubbed downward, until his breath was against my neck, and then he angled his forehead against my throat. I lifted my chin to feel him against my neck. No horns. Just heavy, silken waves of hair caressing and tickling my skin. Gods…I wanted to bring my hands up to touch him and feel that hair between my fingers, but I dared not.

  He had proved his point, but I didn’t tell him to stop, nor did he seem to want to. I felt him leaning closer, his hands pressing into the bedding on either side of me. And then his lips touched my throat. A tiny sound escaped me. I clenched the covers in my fists, feeling that delicious build-up in my core again.

  “Satisfied?” He breathed the word near my ear.

  “No,” I breathed back, and then my eyes went wide. “I mean yes. I am satisfied to know you have no horns or scales on your head.”

  He chuckled, staying near, the layers of his voice cutting through my defenses.

  “Very good.” His lips grazed my collar bone, and I felt the urge to lay back and welcome him on top of me. I resisted. “May I keep tasting you?”

  I flushed from top to bottom. “W-what do I taste like?”

  “Everything sweet. Berries. Melon. Even nectar.”

  “You smell like honey.” I did not mean to say it. I was overwhelmed.

  “Would you like to taste me?” he asked.

  “What?” My mind immediately went to some very intimate acts. “No. I’ve never…I can’t.”

  And then his cheek was at my cheek again and he chuckled. “You can.”

  I remained still as he moved his jawline against mine until our chins touched, and then he lifted his head so that my face was in the crook of his warm neck. I pressed my lips to his heated skin, his heady honeysuckle scent making my eyes flutter. And then I opened my mouth and let my tongue touch him. We both moaned, and he pressed into me. Gods, he tasted sweet with a hint of salt, and I knew for a fact he was not human. I’d never licked a man before, but our skin most definitely did not have flavor. He was like a living honeycomb.

  I kissed along his neck, up to his jaw. He moved, anticipating where my mouth wanted to go. When I got to his earlobe, my teeth grazed the skin there as I took it into my mouth and dragged my lips away. He whispered my name and shuddered. Everything in me felt animalistic and proud that such a small gesture could bring about a reaction from an immortal. I should have stopped then, but I was too far gone. I tilted my head to his cheek, and he moved, letting me trail a line of kisses across his face to the edge of his mouth.

  My heart expanded, and all of my feelings crashed down. What was I doing??

  “I am scared,” I whispered.

  “I know,” he whispered back, but he didn’t move away. Neither did he push. We stayed exactly like that, our breaths quickening against one another’s cheeks until I finally decided to move.

  My lips touched his with shy tentativeness. I expected him to take over as he’d done before, but he remained still as if urging me to explore. I threw all my fears and trepidations aside and opened my mouth against his, lifting my chest as I leaned forward.

  Now he moved, and gods it was so hard to keep my hands to myself. He took my face and together we fell back, our lips and tongues moving against one another’s with barely sustained need, gulping breaths.

  “My hands,” I moaned.

  His face lifted from mine. “What is wrong with them?”

  “I want to touch you.”

  “No,” he growled, grasping my gloved wrists and pulling them above my head. Then he kissed me with a fierceness that had me wrapping my calves around his legs to keep him close, wishing I could pull my long nightgown up and out of the way.

  What were these thoughts?

  My husband shifted off me, moving to lay beside me and hold my wrists with one hand. I heard a snap of fingers and felt a sudden coolness against my skin. I lifted a knee and realized my nightgown was gone. I let out a surprised shriek and brought up my legs.

  “How did you do that? I…I’m not…I…”

  “Not ready to be naked in my presence again?”

  Oh, he thought he was very clever bringing up my moment of indiscretion earlier. I squirmed, feeling hot now.

  “I am not ready to, you know. I didn’t mean—”

  “Not ready to consummate. I understand. I told you; I will not have you as my wife until you ask. But I have other adventures in mind for us in the meantime. Unless you object?”

  His voice shifted as he spoke, and I felt his hot breath hovering over my breast. My mouth opened, my whole body going taut.

  “Psyche…?” My nipple puckered. “Is that a yes?”
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br />   “I—all right,” I whispered, but I had not been prepared for how it would feel when his mouth covered the tip of my breast. My back bowed up as I gasped and writhed. He held my sensitive flesh in his hand as his mouth worked, tongue moving, lips sucking. Then he moved to my other breast, working pure mysticism on my skin, pulling back to leave both my buds damp and sensitive from his expert mouth.

  I breathed as if I’d run for the cliffs.

  “I cannot say all the things I wish to say.” His voice dropped deeper and huskier, sending a ripple through me. “But if you listen, Psyche, listen to my touch…perhaps you will hear.”

  His hand lay heavy across my ribcage. I felt each long finger and the graze of his smooth palm as he moved over my skin with something akin to reverence. It was the only word I could think of to describe his touch. His hand roamed me with patience, as if not wanting to miss a single spot of my stomach and waist. Gooseflesh sprouted across my skin, the tiny hairs standing up as a delightful chill spread over me.

  His hand moved over my hip, rubbing small circles on my thighs. He let go of my wrists, apparently trusting me to keep my hands to myself, so he could lavish my body with both of his hands. It was difficult not to lift my hips and silently beg for more of his touch. I had no idea it could feel like this. I never dreamed I would want to be touched by him. Replacing my fears with something far greater was exhilarating.

  His hand roamed down my inner leg, beneath my knee, sliding upward until he cupped my thigh, holding me like that. “Tell me what you want, Psyche.”

  Embarrassment filled me. “I do not know, Husband.”

  “Yes, you do,” he whispered. “Tell me.”

  He continued to cup my thigh, his fingers so very close to my core.

  “I want you to keep touching me,” I whispered.

  His hand slid upward. “Always tell me.” And then he pulled my thighs open just enough to run his thumb gently down the center of my folds. I grasped the pillow underneath my head and held it tight. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, whispering, “Have you ever been touched here?”

  “No,” I breathed, and to show him what I wanted, I lifted my hips. A guttural sound came from the back of his throat, so sexy. He kept his face near mine, our breaths mingling, as his thumb was replaced by a finger that pressed downward, finding the moisture that had gathered for him.

  Like before, he let out an ancient-sounding curse, and his finger moved in a small circle, teasing me. I arched my back and his finger slid into me, making me cry out. As his hand found a delicious rhythm, touching sensitive places inside of me, the pad of his thumb discovered the top bundle of tension at my center and began to rub in a circular motion.

  “Oh, gods,” I moaned. “Yes…Husband.”

  He kissed me, his hand moving more aggressively as I bucked up to meet him, still marveling at this openness between us, this rightness. With his hands and mouth, he built me up, bringing me to a mountaintop and then exploded my senses in a lightning storm of pleasure. He once again had to hold my wrists above my head as my whole body rocked. And with every shudder and yell that came from the depths of me, he kissed my lips, one after another, until I calmed, breathing hard.

  He pulled my bottom lip between his, stretching it a tiny bit and letting it go. His hand that had tended to me so well, was now at my waist, holding me close. He kissed my cheek, and lay beside me now, his fingers trailing my belly as I continued to come down from the summit to which he’d brought me.

  He had asked me to “listen” to his touch. So, what had I heard? Was it my imagination, or had every single movement he’d made tonight seemed to say…he cared? How could that be? I had believed with everything inside of me that he was an evil creature. Could I have been so wrong?

  “You are thinking,” he said. “Say it out loud.”

  I shook my head, trying to work out the kinks of confusion.

  “Say it,” he urged, taking my face in his hands. “Say it before you lose your nerve.”

  “You care,” I told him, my whole body shaking now. “You care about me?”

  The long pause terrified me, and then he let out a sound of laughter that was pure joy. He kissed my lips, then my cheeks and my forehead.

  I would take that as a yes.

  And for the first time since I had been forced to marry, and carted off to this strange, mystical land, I did not feel alone.

  HUSBAND

  When I woke in the soft light of the next morning, his invisible hand heavy on my waist, a small smile graced my lips. How quickly things had changed.

  “Good morning, Wife.” He sounded fully awake.

  I rolled toward him, holding my hands together at my chest, and stared straight through the spot where he lay. His body’s indentation was there. His presence was there. And his scent was definitely there.

  “Is it strange?” he asked. “Not to see me?”

  “So strange.” Because, though I had felt most of his body against other parts of my skin, there was still a touch of fright in the mystery of the unknown.

  “Would it matter if I were unattractive to you?” His curiosity was endearing.

  It did not take me long to think about it. “Other aspects of a person are far more important.”

  “Hm.”

  My lips pulled to the side and my eyes narrowed. “What? You don’t believe me?”

  “Any normal human woman would be disappointed to have an unattractive husband.”

  “Even the most beautiful of men becomes hideous if his character is hateful and disgusting.”

  “Well said,” he whispered. “Not every man can look like Leodes.”

  “Why must you always bring him up? Are you jealous? You, with all your power?”

  He laughed, the sound sending reverberations through my heart and down through my belly, even lower. When he quieted I heard him breathe deeply, and I pulled the blanket higher, as if it might hide the scent of my body’s reaction.

  “You are blushing.” He ran the back of his fingers down my cheek and I shivered.

  “I am not used to this.”

  “An innocent in so many ways,” he remarked. “Always fascinating.”

  Mino, waking now, made his way over the covers and came up right between us, stretching, yawning, and then wagging his tail as he licked my face. When my husband laughed, Mino flopped straight to his back, and it was my turn to laugh.

  Sphinx, who’d been off who-knew-where, leapt onto the bed and curled herself on what I assumed was my husband’s stomach. She appeared to be floating in the air.

  “She really likes you,” I said.

  “Yes, well. She is brave. Most animals fear me, but felines, in general, do not seem to know their place. I woke with her across my face this morning.”

  I giggled. “Our tiny queen.”

  “So she believes.” I watched the kitten’s fur flatten out in a line down her back as he petted her, which set off a rattling purr from her chest. “You are more at ease today than any day here.”

  I stared down at my gloved hands. “I don’t want to think about it. If I think about anything too hard, my mind fills with doubt and worry. I can’t live that way anymore.”

  “Good choice.” He spoke close to my face, and I saw Sphinx leap from his lap as he pushed me back, holding my wrists beside my body and kissing me.

  Yes, this was what I needed. To feel and not think.

  But the kiss ended far too soon, with my husband saying, “I must go.” He placed one last kiss upon my lips before climbing from the bed. The disappointment I felt surprised me. I wanted to sit there and wallow, but Mino was dancing around the bed in circles, so I jumped up to take him out.

  “Here,” my husband said, picking Mino up in his arms. “Let us walk out together.” So, we walked, him holding Mino, and Sphinx prancing along behind us. I kept my fingers folded together in front of me, fighting against the urge to reach out for his arm. When we got outside, the weather was perfect, of course, and my morning
meal was waiting for me.

  “’Til tonight,” he said, and placed another kiss against my lips before the sound of flapping wings filled the air and he was gone.

  My heart sank as the familiar loneliness washed over me like a heavy, scratchy cloak. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. I needed to be stronger than this. My circumstances were completely different, far better, than what I assumed they would be when the oracle had told me my fate. It was imperative that I remain positive and grateful. I’d chosen to believe that my husband was on my team, and together we would do our best to overcome our opponent.

  And who might that be?

  I contemplated as I ate and fed Mino. My husband was powerful. He’d become offended when I’d once alluded to him having a master. Who could wield power over such a mighty creature? Only a god. Or goddess.

  I shivered. It made sense. My family and people had surely offended the goddess Venus when they had turned their attentions to me instead of her. Was it Venus who somehow controlled mine and my husband’s fates? What did she want from us? If she had simply desired to torture me, why hadn’t she chosen a despicable creature for me to wed? It was all so baffling.

  The doors to the palace opened and the tell-tale clomp of Renae’s feet sounded. A checkered stones gameboard floated down the steps. I smiled.

  “Good morning, Renae.”

  “Same to you, Princess.” She pushed aside my tray of food and set down the gameboard. “Did my ears deceive me or did I hear laughter in the halls this morn?”

  I thought about our walk together and warmth filled my chest. “Yes. We had a nice morning.”

  She let out a matronly burst of laughter and clapped her hands. “Shall we play?”

  “I would love that.” I scooted closer and set up my side of the board.

  We played for a while—maybe an hour?—talking about my life before I had been brought here. She was especially keen to hear about how I’d vexed the guards by running off on adventures. When I tried to talk about her life, she always veered away from the subject. I adored Renae, but one-sided conversations lacked true meaning. I forgave her, knowing she was bound to whatever rules also bound my husband.