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The Cursed Satyroi: Volume One Collection

Page 55

by Rebekah Lewis


  “What do we have here?” She closed one eye and peered at it speculatively with the other. A giddy rush of anticipation shimmied up her spine. She stroked one finger lightly down his length and rested her head on his thigh, sighing wistfully.

  Ariston muttered something in Greek and then, “Stop admiring it, woman. It already knows you find it attractive.”

  “Oh, it does? Have many conversations with your penis, Ariston?” Lily snickered when he snapped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes. “You know,” she began again as she used the tip of her fingernail to trace around his testicles, “You’ve waved your private parts around all week, but could I do anything about it? No.”

  She sighed again, doing her best to remain aloof. “Then you wouldn’t let me touch you when you teased me Thursday night. You deserve for me to drag this out as long as I can. To drive you to the point of madness so you know exactly how I felt.”

  “You wouldn’t,” he gritted out and shivered as she licked the tip of her finger and used the moist digit to rub the head of his cock with a touch as light as a feather.

  “Oh, but I could. If I wanted to. Luckily for you, I don’t feel up to denying myself anymore. So maybe next time.” She shrugged and licked him from base to tip before engulfing him with her lips. Ariston buried his hands in her hair.

  Before long she smiled to herself as his hips bucked upward. The water around her lapped at her back, moving on its own accord, the current caressing her thighs until small undulations splashed against her erotically. She paused. Then she ran her tongue down his length once more, and a similar action rolled over her clitoris. She grinned.

  Being a water nymph had become her favorite thing.

  ***

  Ariston hadn’t questioned the fact he’d been able to get it up almost immediately after orgasm in order to make love to Lily in the grass next to the creek. He should have been replete for a time, but he’d been able and willing to go again. Which he did.

  With relish.

  They lay side by side, watching the clouds above them, and he realized, even without magic, being a satyr had altered him as a human. He hadn’t noticed much else aside from sexual things, and those he didn’t mind so much. If it meant satisfying his wife, it was well worth it. He could handle it since the pain that came with the intense lust before was completely gone. Ariston couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so sated. When I was human before, maybe. Satyrs were never completely satisfied. They always needed more almost immediately.

  And Lily... Gods, that woman. Being in the water seemed to have charged her batteries, in a matter of words, as she’d been an unstoppable force when she’d given him head. She’d wrung every last drop from him, crying out in release herself as though she’d felt every sensation he had and then some.

  “What happened in the water, Lily?”

  “It’s a secret. Maybe I’ll tell you one day.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “If you’re nice to me and give me lots of orgasms.”

  Ariston snorted. “I think I can manage that.”

  “Good, because I plan on making your human life far sexier than your satyr one. I have a lot of years to catch up on.”

  He groaned. She would be his death, but, if he had to die—and he could, he marveled—there was no better way.

  He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her where she belonged. By his side. Ariston couldn’t believe how lucky he’d been to have found her. He knew, deep down, Adonis and Dionysus were major factors in putting her into his path. Though, he also knew they’d had no intentions of allowing him to keep her.

  “What are you thinking about?” Lily asked, leaning up on her elbows, her dark hair falling into her eyes. He brushed it back behind her ear.

  “About how much Dionysus would smite me if I sent him a thank you card.”

  Lily laughed. “I think you shouldn’t try to kill yourself as soon as you’ve regained mortality.”

  “Which is why I’m not going to do it.”

  She kissed him and made an attempt to sit up. Ariston pulled her back into his arms. “Don’t go yet.”

  “It’s getting late. We should probably start packing so we can leave this place behind us in the morning.” She was right, of course. Ariston couldn’t wait to start over with her. To live a life without fear of exposure. To be normal.

  As they hiked back, Ariston dragged his feet, not wanting to leave the little piece of paradise at the creek behind. All good things came to an end, however. He’d have many more opportunities to enjoy her in the future.

  Once they’d left the shelter of the forest that surrounded the cabin, Ariston stalled, shoving Lily behind him. A man stood on the porch, awaiting their return. Like Zeus, he’d dressed himself to the nines. He wore a dark suit with a rich burgundy tie. Upon noticing them, he crossed his arms and nodded his sandy blond head in their direction with acknowledgement.

  “Dionysus.” Was his cabin the Grand Central Station of Olympus lately? Who would arrive in the morning? Hades? Poseidon? Hell, should he expect a visit from the Fates as well?

  Lily struggled against Ariston’s arm for a good glimpse. “Stop doing the human-shield thing. It’s the twenty-first century.” She maneuvered to his side. “You did say Dion Bach was Dionysus, but it’s hard to come to grips with seeing someone you’ve met before and registering the fact that he is the Dionysus.”

  Ariston gave her his best I-tried-to-tell-you look.

  “The nymph wasn’t intended as a gift,” interrupted Dionysus as he descended the few steps of the porch and let his arms rest at his sides. “Yet you have somehow managed to not only keep the girl, break your curse, and achieve what you assume is a happily-ever-after, but you also turned two of my satyrs against me. Why? How did you do it? Answer me truthfully and I might let you live.”

  “Why would I tell you anything in hopes that you ‘might’ not kill me? Honestly, that is not a good enough incentive.” If Ariston had to die, he’d take information to his grave to spite him.

  “Think of your woman. I could kill you and then keep her locked away to free the Boeotians who remained loyal, one by one.”

  Ariston heard Lily’s sharp intake of breath as her fingers dug into his arm.

  “Leave her alone.”

  “Tell me.”

  Ariston’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t have anything to lose by doing that much. Dionysus didn’t look particularly batshit crazy at the moment, so maybe he’d stay true to his word. “Melancton broke his loyalty in revealing the secret about your wine influencing the Boeotians. My brother broke his after he realized he’d been mind-controlled.”

  Dionysus sputtered. “My wine did what?” If innocence was what he went for by putting one hand over his chest and appearing scandalized, Ariston didn’t believe it for a second. “Alcohol, by its nature, dulls the senses. If they want to blame bad decisions on me rather than their low tolerance—”

  “Cut the crap. I told you what you wanted to know. Please, leave us alone. Adonis and Melancton both left. We’ve no idea where either of them are, nor do we care.” Ariston swallowed hard against the lie regarding his apathy. He did care about his brother despite all that happened, and he owed Melancton a debt he doubted he could ever repay.

  “They won’t be able to hide forever.” Dionysus closed his eyes. The tension seemed to roll off of him, and Ariston wondered if he should be worried or relieved at the sudden change in the god’s mannerisms.

  “Look,” Dionysus said finally, opening his eyes. “All of the satyrs want the curse gone, not just you. For all we know, the syrinx could very well hold a key into breaking the curse without needing nymphs. Pan claims he tried, but he never let me give it a go.”

  Gee, I wonder why...

  “And I told you, like I told my brother, I have no idea where it is.”

  Dionysus waved him off. “Of course not. Loyalty to Pan and all that. Next time you see him, let him know I won’t give up until I have it.”


  Ariston nodded. Against his better judgment he asked, “You could’ve searched my cabin any time on your own. Why the set up? You could’ve un-cursed yourself with her, but you didn’t. Did you want to pit me against my brother?”

  Dionysus smiled without kindness. “What makes you think I suffer from the curse? I said the satyrs want it gone, not that I did. They serve me, and so I reward them. There would be no greater reward to a job well done than to free them.”

  Except being free of the curse meant they were no longer immortal slaves to do his bidding. Dionysus avoided acknowledging he’d sent Adonis there to instigate a fight, but Ariston didn’t want to press his luck by goading him for confirmation.

  Then Dionysus shrugged and added, “With only one nymph, feelings would have been hurt. ‘Why does so-and-so get to go first? Why him and not me?’ Easier to keep her out of their reach in case things turned ugly.”

  “Uh, thanks.” Lily had remained so quiet through the whole exchange that she startled Ariston when she spoke up.

  “I’m a giving sort of guy,” Dionysus said, pulling out a silver pocket watch to check the time. “I would love to stay and chat, but I have to relay to the others the bad news concerning Adonis and Melancton. After all we’ve been through together.” He shook his head regretfully and shoved the watch back into his jacket pocket. “By the way, there is a bottle of wine on your counter. Call it a celebratory gift for your new mortality and love.”

  Dionysus disappeared, leaving Lily and Ariston gawking at where he’d stood moments before.

  “Really? After that, he brought us wine?” Lily asked. “Really?”

  “We’re pouring it down the sink. But first...” Ariston pulled her against him and kissed her, bruisingly hard.

  When they finally parted, Lily’s face blushed a rosy pink. “What was that for?”

  “I thought he would take you from me, and I was terrified. He didn’t, and you’re here, and I love you.” He kissed her again.

  “And I love you,” Lily kissed him back. “Let’s go give the cabin a proper farewell, shall we?”

  Ariston followed her inside, closing the door behind him with a swift kick.

  Epilogue

  A farm in North Georgia, two months later...

  “George, what did the vet say?” Mary asked as she entered the stable, giving him a concerned smile. He could hear the vet’s truck rumbling down the dirt path. Mary’s graying hair was pulled into a side ponytail, and she fiddled with the end of it as she did whenever she worried for one of the animals.

  “Believe it or not, but Betty’s knocked up.”

  “What?” Mary asked taking a speculative look to the chestnut mare as George opened the stall and led her out for some fresh air in the field.

  A couple months ago, some bird had attempted to make a nest in the stable, an owl maybe, and George had worried the encounter had troubled the skittish mare since it looked as though a great commotion had occurred. There had been feathers scattered throughout, and poor Betty had splintered the wood on her door causing it to need repairs. Strange as it was though, she’d been less wary of the other horses since it happened. Archie, the resident stallion, barely even spared Betty a glance since. Before, she’d been so intimidated by his antics to reach her, they’d worried for her safety.

  “It’s the damndest thing, dear. She’s always been wary around ole’ Archie, which is why I’ve only let him near Ronnie. Honest to God, I’m completely flabbergasted by how Archie got to her. He’d had to have, ya know?”

  Mary shuffled over to the bucket in the corner and pulled out the handful of foot long white feathers they’d found in Betty’s stall two months ago. “Do you think these are a clue?”

  George rolled his eyes. “It would match the doc’s estimations as to the time of conception, sure. But feathers? Do you think Big Bird visited and wanted to take Betty out to trot? No, more likely it was as we’d concluded. A bird wanted a new place to nest and found the stable lacking. It maybe got itself stuck in Betty’s stall is all, and lost the feathers in a panic.”

  Unconvinced, Mary examined Betty’s stall. “Multiple nights, though? They weren’t in any of the other stalls. And look at the size of these suckers, that bird is flippin’ huge if it exists.”

  “Great Gads, woman. Your imagination runs away from you. What do you want me to say? A winged horse from a fairy tale popped in for a quickie?”

  They stared at each other, at the feathers, and back again. Then they burst out in guffaws.

  Mary dropped the feathers in the wastebasket on the way out. “Yeah, because that would happen. I guess Archie learned to open doors and replace the locks.”

  ***

  It took two months for Hermes to find Melancton. To be fair, he’d had to deal with Olympian issues of being told off about Artemis’ tampering and what not—which he’d taken no part of, nor had he known about—until it had already occurred. And afterward, Katerina thought she had gone into labor, but it was a false alarm. She was due soon though. Meanwhile, Hermes finally found Melancton in Virginia, covered in dried mud and reeking of filth.

  The dark of the night did nothing to improve the satyr’s appearance and made him stand out against the shadows like something in a nightmare. Hermes had seen gutter rats in better condition. Melancton glanced up from the base of the tree he was leaning on when Hermes landed in front of him. He didn’t speak; he didn’t even nod. He merely closed his eyes as if he didn’t care what Hermes had to say to him.

  To completely disrespect a god of Olympus was more than enough for some of his family to murder Melancton on the spot. However, Hermes knew the reason he disregarded his own life, and he sympathized with the satyr in a way even Zeus didn’t understand.

  “You need a shower.” Hermes stated and grunted, annoyed, when Melancton offered no reply. “Get up, coward. Are you really going to let Apollo have her that easily?”

  Melancton’s eyes sprang open and the fury blazing in his gaze should have scorched Hermes to embers. “Do not speak of her to me.”

  “Why not? You’re the one who handed her over like currency.”

  “You know nothing.”

  “I know quite a bit actually. Did you know, in order to keep her from escaping, he has her chained to the laurel tree in his temple? That she has been chained there for so many centuries she is turning into part of the tree? You wish her to live that way forever!” Blood boiled behind Hermes’ ears. He didn’t have the patience to walk on eggshells around anyone’s delicate feelings. Not for matters like Daphne’s.

  The agonized sob Melancton choked out eased Hermes’ anger as quickly as it had arrived. Melancton’s skin, what could be seen under the dirt, was ashen. Clearly, Apollo had never let on the circumstances of Daphne’s imprisonment. He rose to his feet and thundered past Hermes. The thudding of his heavy hooves boomed a deadly beat, announcing Death had arrived on his pale horse of Christian lore.

  Thank the gods he’s still in there somewhere.

  Hermes reached out and stopped Melancton’s retreat, gripping his arm forcefully. “You can’t go to Olympus. You’re immortal, but you have not drank of the ambrosia. We’ve been through this several times. Not to mention, the gates are locked to anyone Zeus has not invited there expressly, and you gave your word you wouldn’t attempt to take her away from Apollo.” Hermes reminded him. “But I can.”

  “You would help me?” Melancton yanked his arm free. “Why? What do you want in return?”

  “Not every god is out for personal gain. I’ll help you because I hate how Apollo has treated Daphne. Zeus forbade me from interfering. Before.”

  “Something has changed?”

  “You sacrificed your heart for Ariston to be free of his curse. I’ll go to Zeus and demand a reward for your selflessness. Zeus is all about good PR these days. I think I can win him over.” More like hoped. There was a high chance it wouldn’t work.

  Melancton appeared skeptical. “It does not matter. Apollo will kill her an
yway should he find her with me. I promised to give her up.” He sighed. “Save her, but do not risk her by bringing her to me. Hide her.”

  “Apollo will throw his hissy fit about anything that isn’t going his way, but if Zeus demands it, he can’t do jack shit. Besides, as soon as she is free and back to health, nothing will stop her from seeking you out.”

  Since Melancton still didn’t appear convinced. Hermes shrugged. “Pan found Evander and some of the Arcadians running a bed and breakfast in Savannah. I’m going to take you there, and they’re going to keep you hidden from Apollo, so we don’t have a lot of time to get you inside before dawn. Not that you can wander the historic district of Savannah in the daylight anyway, since you no longer have a thyrsus, but you catch my drift.”

  “They are Arcadian. They will not want me there.”

  “If I take you there, they won’t put up a fuss. Don’t give them a reason to want you gone.”

  Melancton nodded.

  “Tell them nothing of Daphne, Apollo, or of our conversation tonight. The less anyone knows, the better the chances we have.” Evander and the others knew, of course, but Apollo couldn’t claim Melancton plotted if he never discussed it with them.

  Hermes took a hold of Melancton’s arm, and they were gone, speeding over the trees toward their destination. Dark times were ahead of them, for even if Zeus did agree, Melancton was right; Apollo would never give Daphne up so easily. Not after keeping her locked up for so long. His fixation on the nymph wasn’t healthy and eons ago had become an obsession. Right was only right, and it was long past the time Hermes acted on some way to free Daphne. There hadn’t been a good enough reason to sway Zeus before, but maybe there was at last.

  It was three in the morning when Hermes came to a stop outside The Aegean Inn, with Melancton whirling out of his grasp and retching into a trashcan. Sometimes Hermes Airways wasn’t the most desired of transportation for passengers.

 

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