As though the bed called her name, she felt captivated by it and commanded to sit upon it. With her candle in hand, she looked down at the mattress to see the perfect shape of a woman lying there in the dust and cobwebs. Her heart rising to her throat, she reached out to touch the figure but her hand went straight to the mattress. Feeling a cold shiver and the need run jolt through her, Maggie forced her feet to stay in place as she took in the shape further and thought it a good match for her own. She held up the small flame to the mirror, seeing herself reflected there. Admonishing herself for thinking that she’d see anything else she moved to get up but her reflection stayed put. It lay there still and sleeping.
“What?” Maggie held up the candle to the mirror but the Maggie in the glass did not move, she just slept on, her eyes closed, her breathing soft. Beyond her, the Maggie on the bed in the Dream World saw her own bedroom. Ares’ bedroom. A fire burned bright in the hearth and Onya sat in the chair across from her talking to her telling her everything that happened that day.
Eyes wet with tears and fear rolled around the pitch black room. “I’m dreaming?” she asked herself. “This is a dream. It’s not real, it’s not…” Something in the mirror moved, caught her eye, and Maggie looked back to it. Reflected back to her in the bedroom where she slept the door opened and a young man with a gray streak in his long dark hair entered with a little girl in his arms. Her face drooped severely on the left side. He put the girl on the bed and Maggie felt it when he pulled back her nightgown, reached inside with warm hands to cup her breast, and exposed it so the girl could suckle.
On the bed in the palace, Maggie looked down to see she was fully covered and there was no child. Still she felt the girl’s lips around her nipple and the flow of milk expressing into the child’s mouth.
Looking up again, Maggie saw the little girl looking back at her, she heard her whisper; “Hi.”
Stunned, Maggie gasped, “Hi, who are you?”
“Rose.”
“Rose?” Suddenly a snippet of an old song played brilliantly in Maggie’s mind; Remember, in the winter far beneath the bitter snows, lies the seed that with the sun’s love becomes the Rose. She sang that song to Raven every night she put him to bed, sang so much even Ares joined in once or twice in his booming tenor voice. He loved to stand there, listening to her sing and watching her rock Raven to sleep.
“Ma…Ma…Ma,” the cheerful girl chanted.
All of the blood in her body drained away as the air in her lungs exited her open mouth. She could hold back the tears or the undeniable desire to scream as she realized Morpheus lied. Ares didn’t kill their Daughter—she was alive and well and suckling at her Mother’s breast! Moreover, wasn’t dead; she was on Olympus in a coma. Morpheus never rescued her from the Under World, he snatched her from the Upper World, from Olympus, from ARES, and kept her prisoner here in the Dream World. Fighting back the rage steaming within her, Maggie tried to reach out for something more positive; hope. There was hope of escaping this chilly existence and going back to the life she wanted and the Husband she loved. She couldn’t let on to Morpheus that she knew what he was doing, she had to quietly find a way home, out of this cold lonely place, and back to Ares’ arms. When she found her Freedom Trail she would make an escape as daring as when she fled Cernunnos’ Keep in the dead of night.
“You’re very pretty, Rose,” Maggie whispered holding her hand up to the candlelit mirror. “Such a pretty girl, Mommy loves you.”
Every night after that, when Morpheus departed, Maggie quickly wound her way to the room at the center of the lowest level of the Castle. She lay in the bed with her candle looking up at the mirror talking to Rose, listening to everything Onya said in the background, the noises of people coming and going. She could only see them if her eyes opened and getting them to do so was exhausting. Several times she managed it, she saw Ares, and Rose, and a boy on the verge of manhood with midnight hair down to the middle of his sinewy back. It had a wide gray streak that complimented his gray eyes with their amber pupils.
Raven.
So grown, so quickly.
She couldn’t help but wonder just how long her body lingered in that coma. Yet it was the earlier sight of him in the dreams of so many Mortals that truly struck fear into her heart. He was up to something, way up there on Olympus, and the others either didn’t know or they didn’t give a shit. Maggie was just as apt to believe either of those scenarios and found she didn’t care to know the reason, only the what. He was brash. Crude. Crass. Full of himself.
Just like his Father.
Ares was suspiciously absent from the bedroom they once shared with such devoted passion. She didn’t hear his voice as often as she’d like and when she managed to force her eyes open and catch a glimpse of him, while he was a bit haggard, he looked happy, content with his life.
While she felt Rose nurse at her breast, she almost never felt the warmth of her Husband’s arms around her. It seemed he’d found somewhere to else to spend the cold lonely Olympus night. Morpheus hadn’t lied about everything. Even though Ares dreamed of her, Aphrodite still shared his bed. As proof of that, sometimes when she gazed into the mirror she could hear Aphrodite laughing, the sound of her shrill titter echoed throughout the Fortress and straight through Maggie’s heart. Her desire to go home, to wake from this dream, was silenced a little longer.
If there was nothing to go back to other than pain, heartache, bickering and destruction then the escape attempt hardly seemed worth it. Except for little Rose so eagerly awaiting her Mother’s arrival.
Knowing she was trapped in the Dream World with no discernible way out, for more than a year she watched Life on Olympus through the mirror. Maggie cherished the time she was able to spend with Rose, it kept her sane, and at least someone knew she was alive. Someone who couldn’t tell those around her and probably not be believed if she could. It was like a great big Mother & Daughter Secret, something to hold on to, keep safe, and hold dear. Over the year they chatted…in a way. They sang songs and Maggie was even able to teach her Daughter a little ditty from a game she’d once played as a wee-girl; When the moon, moon, moon, shines, shines, shines, under the silvery light, with just one kiss, you’ll be mine, mine, mine. The game itself was played in a circle on Yuletide, one boy in the middle who’d cover his eyes, chant as he spun around and when the chant ended, he opened his eyes, saw the girl he was pointing to and either blushed like the setting sun or cried out; “Ewwww!”
They just had the little song and Rose seemed to like it. The more they sang it the more Maggie wanted to go home. There was one thing she had to know first.
It took a long time before she gathered enough strength to wander back to the room holding Ares’ dreams. It had a gold lock upon the door but Maggie easily picked it with a pin from her hair. She walked inside; with a heavy heart she sat down upon the bed to wait for the mirror to show her his dreams as though she were waiting in the theater for the Main Attraction to begin, minus the tub of popcorn.
When he finally began dreaming, she spoke to the mirror like a director.
“Show me the room where he sleeps,” she whispered.
The mirror-cam panned out to show her, not the bedroom they shared, but a smaller one down the hall in the Fortress.
“Show me the whole room.”
The mirror-cam spun around slowly. She saw Ares asleep in the bed. He was alone. Aphrodite was nowhere in sight.
Creeping to the edge of the bed for the best possible view, Maggie scrutinized the room where her Husband slept; no perfume bottles, tubes of lipstick, or silver brush and comb on the dresser. Not a strip of organza anywhere. No panties. No nightgowns.
“You liar, Morpheus, he’s alone. My Husband sleeps alone.”
The thought tore at her heart with as much force as the thought of Ares being with Aphrodite. The thought of being alone, with no one to hold him, no one to comfort him, it was too much for her to take.
Swallowing hard and praying she was rig
ht, Maggie whispered her last command for the night; “Show me his dream.”
Chapter Two
These Dreams
Alena stood by the blazing hearth in nothing more than a white chemise. The light of the fire in front of her showed Ares all of the glory that was his Wife below the simple cotton under-gown. “Come here,” Ares invited and held his hand out to her as he rested on the bed. “I want you.”
“Don’t you always?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” tilting his head to the side to get a better view of her. The corner of his lip turned upward in a half-smile. “C’mon, you know you want me too.”
Looking at his tight body stretched out on the bed, his broad chest bare and his long legs covered in those wonderfully fitting leather pants, she couldn’t help but smile back at him. Even though she tried to remain cool, her blood was already beginning to boil. Simply looking at him or listening to his deep voice wash over her ears was always enough to make her tingle with desire. “I don’t know, you seem a little too sure of yourself.” Raising a finger to her lips to entice him and force back the grin threatening to break out on her face, she chided him as she shook her head. Alena watched as Ares’ smile began fading from his rich full lips. She turned away from him to watch his reflection in the mirror above the blazing hearth. Laying her hands gently on the marble mantle, with her back to him, Alena began swaying on her feet, her hips rocking back and forth making the flimsy gown swirl around her. In the mirror, she saw his eyes light up. He bit down on his bottom lip as he sat up on the bed to lean toward her, his head bobbing in time to the gently rhythm of her hips.
“The only thing I am sure of is our desire for each other,” Ares whispered as his hands, seemingly with a will of their own, began reaching toward her, wanting to snatch her from where she stood with those hypnotic hips swaying back and forth before his eyes. Taunting him. Teasing him. Tempting him.
Even though she tried, resisting him would never be her strong point. Alena turned around to look at him again, keeping her best poker face in place for as long as she could. “Well, since you put it that way.” Suddenly Alena hiked up the hem of the chemise to take a running leap at him. In mid-air with her arms outstretched, her long silver-gray hair flying in the air behind her, she smiled wider when his hands came up to bring her safely down to him. “You caught me.”
“I will always catch you, my Wife, and I will never let you go.”
“Smooth talker,” she chided easily as her fingertips began skipping through his beard. “Tell me more, you know I love it.”
“How ‘bout I just show you?” Without waiting for an answer, Ares rolled Alena over onto her back to hover over her and gaze down into her sparkling eyes. “Such a delightful treat you are, where shall I start?”
Alena put a finger over her lips, “Well, these are lonely.”
“Are they? Oh, that’s a shame, here, let me rectify that. Such luscious lips should never be lonely.” Ares bent his head as her arms wrapped around his shoulders and began playing with his raven hair. Eyes closed, lip to lip, and already nestled hip to hip, even though the clothing was temporarily in their way, both of them felt the warmth of passion and desire ignite like a gentle breeze on a hot summer’s night. Ares’ lips parted, his agile tongue found its way between Alena’s lips, her back arched off the bed to greet him and bring him closer. So close there wasn’t enough room to slip a dollar bill between them.
“Better? Still lonely?” Ares asked as he nuzzled his forehead to hers, letting the blissful sensation of her under him fill his head and heart.
“A little, maybe, but better. Why don’t you try over here?” Alena’s graceful fingers slid down the nape of her neck.
“Just here?” Ares asked in a sultry tone as he traced his larger fingers over the sensitive area. “Just, right here?” He let his moist tongue lap along the space just below her right ear and felt her quiver as she sucked in her breath over her pearly whites. When she turned her head to the side so he could get better purchase, the shiver jumped from her lithe body to his lean and lanky one, making him quake down to his curling toes. The hardening staff between his legs began straining against the thick leather as it poked into her thigh. Shrewdly, that lapping tongue stopped its work and he let his teeth take over, expertly sinking into that particularly sensitive spot two inches below and just slightly behind her ear. Alena’s nails returned the favor when they curled into the flesh at his toned rippled back and began grabbing, kneading, even as he let those sharp teeth of his sink a little deeper, his mouth clamped down and sucked a little harder. Until the nails kneading his back raked across it, heightening his pleasure and desire even as they left behind waterfall scratches that he would bear with pride for the short time they marred his perfect flesh. Those slender hips of hers started grinding against the swelling staff of his as it tried to poke its way through the restrictive leather and into her thigh. The air in her lungs exhaled and inhaled in shallow gasps and heated cooing moans. “Give it to me.”
Alena was never sure why her neck was connected to lower regions on her body or how Ares manipulated it so easily time and again, she knew only that what he was doing right now left her nearly completely helpless below him. Refusing Ares was never an easy task to accomplish but Alena only wanted to continue flying higher and higher tonight. She fought against the tingle between her legs spreading upward to the flat of her belly. “No.”
For a half a second, Ares stopped, he froze in place as the single word echoed in his head. No? Did she say…no? Well he’d see about that. Swiftly returning to his work with purpose and determination, Ares’ teeth closed down over that sweet spot until droplets of blood rose salty and hot on his tongue. He felt the pulsing flow of her life force passing by just under his suckling lips. Wolf-like ears listened closely to the breath catching and hitching, her heaving chest pushing hardened nipples against him. One hand raking his back fell away and gripped the blanket below her in a knotted fist. The strong scents of honeysuckle and sweat came to his acute nose and filled his head with fire as she put up a futile fight against the inevitable spurring him on, further toward his goal, like a skilled rival in battle. Ares’ heart thundered in his broad chest as his mouth salivated, wrapped around the delicate flesh with its fresh droplets of blood dancing on his tongue.
In battle it was Kill or Be Killed and like any good warrior, Ares was always in it to the end. Again, like any good warrior, Ares was always highly aware of his opponent’s weaknesses. Alena had her share. His wide hand moved from her flank to grab hold of a ready waiting breast with an authoritative grip. She let out a guttural grunt and the light bead of sweat rolling on his tongue turned to a heavy sheen. Reaching up with the old hand, he grabbed up a fistful of silky gray hair, wound it around once then twice before giving a harsh yank, holding her in place while exposing that wonderful spot even further to his whims. Rising up on his knees, clamping them firmly to her flanks, keeping her just where he wanted her, Ares leaned into his work and bit down just the tiniest bit harder. When her body tried to shoot upward off the mattress he pushed her back even as her hips rose in search of the swollen throbbing cock between his legs.
Fighting was no longer an option. There was only surrender. Victory and the Spoils of War belonged to him as every sinewy muscle in her delicate Fey frame constricted and held firm. Soon there was another scent in the air adding its musky odor to the honeysuckle and sweat. The hand at her breast slid down her quivering body to feel the spreading wetness between her searching hips. With the taste of her blood still on his tongue, Ares brushed his lips over hers before letting her go. “I’m sorry…you were saying?” he whispered as he hovered over her, gazing down at Alena aglow in the firelight, her alabaster cheeks flushed with color as her wide stormy eyes gleamed. She was still trying to catch her breath when he reached out to grab the collar of the chemise and rip it straight down the middle, laying it to rags on either side of her. Licking his chops and feeling his own dark e
yes come to light he ran his hands over her hard nipples winking up at him, begging him to touch and kiss them. “This is mine, in case you were unaware. You are mine.”
A weak hand rose slowly in the air to lay the palm against his chest and feel the beat of his thundering heart below the heavy patch of hair. “All yours my Lord, my Love. Always, all yours.” Swallowing hard and trying to get the tremble running through her under control her hand dropped to the cross-tie on his burgeoning leather pants. The palm of her rested over his pulsing staff. “This seems uncomfortable. May I?”
“Oh, please do.”
Nimble fingers undid the tie, pushed the pants open, letting his Louisville Slugger pop free from the cruel grasp of the leather. One hand wrapped around the shaft as the other worked to push them off of him. With long tender strokes she pumped his hot shaft as the pants slid to his ankles where Ares kicked them away, watching her lick her waiting lips. “Not tonight,” he whispered as he opened her legs with his knee and settled between them away from the touch of her hand and to the entrance of that moist musky place that would soon wrap around him like a warm glove. Resting his weight on his forearms, she smiled up at him and let her soft hands run over his back anticipating the moment he would pierce through into her and they would become one. “I love you, Alena,” Ares whispered as his hips pulled back slightly to gain a better position and then slide forward into her. He watched her eyes sparkle, her lips part waiting to hear her say that she loved him too but,
“Help me.”
The room turned cold and his Ichor boiling with passion froze at the tone of her voice. “Alena?”
“He won’t let me go. I want to come home. Please? I want to come home.” She reached up to touch his face and then she was gone.
There was nothing but the mattress below him.
**
With his big heart racing in his big chest, his lungs nearly devoid of air, and his brawny body covered in a thick sheen of sweat, the God of War sat bolt upright in his bed, shaken awake from the dream. “Alena!” Ares cried out. “Alena!” He began rocking back and forth in his lonely bed while his lonelier arms ached to hold his Wife. Swiping a trembling hand across his haggard face he threw the covers off, planted his feet on the floor and rose on rubbery legs to open the bedroom door. The hallway was quiet and it seemed everyone in the Fortress was asleep for the night as he padded barefoot across the hall to where she slept. With his mind reeling and his heart racing, Ares opened the door. There she was asleep as always, quietly sleeping and wasting away in the bed they once shared. Creeping inside and closing the door he made his way to the bed, sat down and took her icy hand in his warm one. “Alena?”
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