OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3

by Lisa Beth Darling

“What? You are still the Lord of this dreary manor, aren’t you? The last time I checked she was still your woman, your slave, even if she is fucking Eros, she’s still yours. Or have you completely lost your balls, Ares? Have they dried up and blown away with the wind?” The Lady of Love began to titter and then to cackle.

  “My balls will never again be a concern of yours.”

  “Now, now, my dear Ares, that doesn’t answer my question,” she cackled in that sharply haughty self-appreciating tone that rang throughout the Fortress. “Onya dear is getting older, a little long in the tooth for you, Lover.” She looked the woman up and down. Once Onya had been very trim and sexy but now at the age of 32 Life on Olympus was catching up with her as her fiery hair began turning gray, little lines showed up around her emerald eyes and her curvy hips grew wider. “Then again, whoever thought that gray-headed wrinkled bag of bones upstairs would make your hearty cock stand at attention? But, you know, since you’ve moved out of the bedroom and all, I wonder why. I can only conclude that despondent pussy wasn’t doing it for you anymore. Too much like fucking a blow up doll, is that it? I know you like so much spunk and life in your women. So, there’s dear Onya, to take care of your…primal needs, isn’t there?”

  “Shut up, you bitch!” Ares railed as spit flew from his lips and his eyes burned with fire. “What do you know of Alena’s appearance? Who told you I don’t sleep with my Wife any longer?” He stared down the table at Raven who was still staring at Aphrodite’s full breasts. The question went without answer as someone new made his way around the corner and into the room.

  “Good morning, Brother, how’s it hangin’? Dry and dusty or so I hear.”

  “I knew I smelt something rancid.” Ares rose to his feet so swiftly at the sight of Apollo that the chair he was sitting in toppled over behind him. The motion was so sudden and heated it caused little Rose to fall out of the Throne of Bones. She hit the marble floor on her tush and began crying. Hunter laughed and pointed at Rose even as Onya rushed to the little girl’s aid, picked her up and comforted her by holding her close. “What the hell is he doing here?” he demanded of Aphrodite as he pointed to his Brother. “You know he’s not welcome in my home.”

  “I see the little vlákas is still among us,” Apollo imparted coldly as he reached out to snatch a clump of plump red grapes from the table. Just as he raised the bunch to his mouth to take a bite a flying silver plate hit him in the jaw. His head flew back sharply on his golden shoulders, bits of grape juice and pulp splattered into his handsome face. With good natured disgust, Apollo wiped the mess away and flung it to the marble floor while staring down the table at Ares.

  “My Daughter’s not a moron,” Ares sneered as he grabbed for another plate to send whizzing down the table. “Get the hell out of my house, Apollo.”

  “She ain’t none too bright,” Hunter glibly agreed and rolled his blue eyes as he leered at his Sister nuzzling in Onya’s arms. “Stupid twit.”

  Gazing down at his youngest Son, Ares’ hand cocked back ready to wing the plate at him. “What did you say, little boy?”

  “I think I’ll take her upstairs to see Lady Alena,” Onya stammered, holding the little girl close in a very protective manner.

  “Lady?” Apollo scoffed. “That Fey whore’s no Lady.”

  “I see you’re interested in going a few rounds with me this morning. What do you say, Brother? Why don’t we go outside so I can kick your ass?”

  Apollo backed down as he thought better of the challenge. Although his mental state was always in question, Ares was in very fine physical shape these days. Apollo might even venture to say that Ares was in the best shape of his long life. There was no secret as to why that could be, after all, Ares now had a great deal of pent up sexual aggression and energy. With nothing to hunt or to do battle with here on Olympus, Ares had nothing else to do with it than to take it out on his weights and punching bags. Several times Apollo watched from his window while Ares harnessed his bare brawny back to a rig strapped to gigantic bundles of logs so that he could drag them through the thick snow of Olympus, building up those rippling muscles even further while steam rose from his frame and that tempting body glistened with a lovely sheen of sweat. Although they excelled at it, fighting was never really what Apollo wanted to do with Ares but it was the most heated and intimate Ares was ever going to let Apollo get with him. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  Ares’ upper lip curled further and his hand tightened on the rim of the plate. “That’s what I thought,” Ares agreed. “Go on, Onya, go.” Ares shooed her out of the room with a wave of his hand. Holding the baby close and keeping her eyes on the Terrible Twosome, Onya skittered past them and out of the room.

  “Don’t worry, Lover,” Aphrodite snorted as she watched Onya go, “we’re not staying; we just came to drop off Hunter for the day.”

  “If I have to say this until the day I die, I will; I am NOT your Lover,” Ares thundered. “Now you’ve done what you came to do so get out—please.”

  “Be good for your Father, Hunter, don’t give him too much trouble,” Aphrodite advised, “we’ll be back by nightfall to get ready for the party tonight.” Her blazing blue eyes shifted from Hunter to Raven. “I’m looking forward to it,” she said with a giggle that brimmed with anticipation as she gave Raven the once-over again.

  “Yeah, bye,” Hunter mumbled as he yanked a chair out from the table and began heaping food onto a plate, “see ya.” He waved and bits of scrambled eggs flew from his fingertips. He didn’t even look up to watch as his Mother and Apollo left the Fortress.

  “Do yourself a favor, Raven, stay far away from her tonight and any other night. She’ll suck your soul right out of your body.” Ares advised in a booming tone.

  “Hopefully, that’s not all she’ll suck out of me.”

  “Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he shot and then turned to Hunter as he settled in his chair at the table. “You have the manners of a goat.”

  Hunter let out a loud long belch in his Father’s face then patted his stomach. “Olympian’s don’t need manners.”

  Ares waved a hand in front of his face to clear the air in front of him of the stench. “Your Grandmother would disagree with you.”

  “She’s old, who cares what she thinks?”

  Ares hissed, “How dare you insult my Mother?”

  At the other end of the table a wide satisfied smile broke out on Raven’s face,. “You thought I was bad,” he chimed, nodding his head.

  “You?” Hunter scoffed, continuing to shovel food into his mouth like an engineer stoking the fires on a thundering locomotive. “You’re not even a real Olympian so no one cares what you think.”

  “That starts to change tonight, doesn’t it…little Brother?”

  “Maybe,” Hunter shrugged his shoulders and grimaced, “but I don’t think an amigás like you has any chance of becoming one of us.”

  “Nice,” Ares crooned, “half-breed, huh? You need to stop spending so much time with Apollo.”

  Reaching across the table with a grubby hand, Hunter grabbed a stack of pancakes and threw them onto his plate before drowning them in butter and syrup. “I like Apollo but you could be right, Raven’s more of an áthiktos than an amigás.” With his bare hands, Hunter picked up a gloppy mess of pancakes, dripping maple syrup through his fingers, and shoved half the stack into his gaping mouth.

  Raven leaned toward his younger brother to whisper, “Boreíte lígo skatá , den eímai áthiktoi. Eímai Olýmpou. Apópse tha páo̱ na thései to poulí mou sti̱ mi̱téra sas tóso skli̱rá kai grí̱gora pou tha fo̱náxoun t ‘ónomá mou se ékstasi.” (You little shit, I am not untouchable. I am an Olympian. Tonight I’m going to put my cock to your Mother so hard and fast she’ll scream my name in ecstasy.)

  “Impressive,” Hunter grinned, showing his sparkly white teeth full of half-chewed pancakes, “for an áthiktos. Better men than you have tried to make her scream,” his eyes slowly scanned from Raven to Ares, “haven�
�t they?”

  Out of nothing more than force of habit, Ares cocked back his arm to back hand Hunter but pulled it at the last second, “I’d love to slap your Mother right out of you, boy.”

  “Good luck with that,” Hunter snorted.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Father, I have to prepare for tonight.” Raven stood up and left the table without further discussion. Unlike pathetic little Rose, Hunter was a threat to what Raven saw as his impending authority. As such, he plotted to kill the nasty little boy since, well, since before he was born. When Aphrodite was eight months along the opportunity to trip her down a long flight of marble steps landed in his lap but Raven declined Fate’s invitation, afraid that three falls in a row would look suspicious. That was the one and only chance that came Raven’s way in three years. After the loss of her dear sweet Trinity, Aphrodite was on guard and she never let Hunter out of her sight if it could be helped. When she wasn’t around, Hunter was with Apollo or Zeus, who seemed to have taken quite a shine to the little brat. If Hunter wasn’t with any of them then he was with Ares. Sooner or later his chance would come and when it did Raven intended to grab it with both hands. For now he knew it was best to remain calm, cool, and collected, even though deep down he was seething.

  “What’s his problem?”

  Easing back in his chair and smiling a cold grin while his onyx eyes narrowed on his youngest Son, Ares nodded, “I think that would be you.”

  Hunter grabbed for the pitcher of Nectar and drank straight from it, allowing the sweet liquid to flow down his chin and chest before slamming it back down on the table. “Let’s make a bet, ok?” Hunter swiped the back of his hand across his wet lips. “I’ll bet you Raven doesn’t pass his Hades’ Trial tomorrow.” Hunter pointed a syrupy finger at Ares. “We on?”

  If there was one thing Ares was absolutely certain of, it was Raven’s determination to be Accepted by the Olympians around him. Raven, impatient and impetuous as always, fought Zeus tooth and nail to begin the Olympian Trials earlier than expected. After all, Raven was still only ten years old and the First Trial was not to begin until sixteen. However, that was only if one went by chronological years, then Raven was ten. In reality, the boy was equal to a Mortal Man of nearly seventeen. He grew so swiftly and so wildly while his Mother slept, Ares could hardly keep up with Raven. Whether for good or ill, Ares knew in his heart, Raven’s name was destined to go down in the annals of history right alongside the names of his Father and the rest of the Olympians. “Deal,” Ares intoned darkly, “Raven will pass his first Trial tomorrow and he will pass all of his Trials to become an official Olympian.”

  Chapter Four

  Every Rose Has Its Thorn

  I

  With a head full of steaming, wicked thoughts of how best to kill his little Brother, Raven stormed down to the basement to work out and practice with his spear for a while. In a few hours he would have to go up to the second floor to tend his Mother. Two years ago, Ares charged Raven with the task of feeding his Mother lunch. The task was supervised by Onya but Raven had to complete it and she reported directly back to Ares if Raven lost his temper. Raven hated it but he couldn’t get out of it, and for one hour a day he had to comply directly with his Father’s wishes. It might not be so bad if Rose weren’t still breastfeeding and if it weren’t Raven’s job to see to it that little retard latched on and suckled. Every time he pulled down the bodice of his Mother’s nightgown he felt Onya staring at him just waiting for him to do something untoward as he cupped the breast full of milk and put Rose to it. Then he would watch in near amazement as his Mother’s arms rose up to cradle and cuddle the girl suckling at her exposed breast.

  It was clear Alena knew the baby was there. That made Raven wonder what else his Mother was aware of as she slept.

  Rose fed well past the need to breastfeed but Alena was not. When Rose stopped suckling and went to solid foods, Alena began refusing to eat. It wasn’t long before her once svelte body showed the bones that held it together. Raven was glad to see it, he was hoping his Mother would quickly waste away to nothing and Hades would come to claim her. Any fears he had of her telling Ares about their little skirmish at the top of the stairs the night Alena fell would die with her.

  Ares wasn’t stupid and he knew his Wife well. The God of War brought Rose back into the bedroom at luncheon every day and had the little girl feed at her Mother’s breast. Alena’s arms wrapped around the baby, she even seemed to smile. She began eating again and she put on weight; while she never woke, she looked healthier. Much to Raven’s dismay. Even worse, within the month the task became Raven’s. At first he looked at it as punishment but soon came to realize that his Father was hoping that by having Raven take care of his Mother an hour a day, Raven would soften to her and maybe even feel guilty enough to confess. Raven’s will to keep the secret was strong and even if he did feel a pang of guilt here and there, he never showed it. He only carried out the task with precision and never once lost his temper. Not even on the often occasion when Raven had to clean up the mess between his Mother’s legs. He simply did it and then put Rose to her breast. Raven sat next to them on the bed every day until Rose drifted off to sleep for her afternoon nap.

  The rest of the day was his. Far below Olympus, in the Mortal World things were getting very heated. Ares, along with the other Olympians, save for Apollo who already knew, might also be aware of how bad things were becoming down there if they weren’t so busy stabbing each other in the back. Raven thought each of them to be a pitiful creature bereft of any appreciation outside of themselves. Then again, the Mortals weren’t all that much different from the Olympians. They, too, spent far too much time arguing and bickering amongst themselves as opposed to doing anything of much consequence. Raven thought that was strange, after all it wasn’t as though the Mortals had eternity to bring about the change they spoke of and needed so desperately.

  Whereas Ares had the big TV removed from the bedroom where Alena slept—sometime around the time he finally moved out and into a bedroom across the hall—the TV in Raven’s room kept the boy very well informed of everything going on down in the Mortal World. When Raven got tired of watching events play out on the boob tube, he simply snuck out of the Fortress and flew away from Olympus down to the world below so he could stir up a bit of trouble. Like his Brother Eros, Raven had the ability to fly but so far he’d been able to keep that secret from everyone except Apollo. Late at night, Raven crept down the stairs that had been his Mother’s undoing and deftly opened a window on the first floor. Standing there in the darkness he would transform into his namesake: a raven. With no need to open the Gates of Olympus, Raven would simply fly away undetected. Hours later, before the sun crested Olympus, he would return the same way, close the window, creep back to his room, and all would appear as though he’d slept soundly and safely in his own bed. Once back in the Fortress, all Raven could do was watch events unfold on the TV and wait as patiently as possible for the Mortal’s blood to bubble, boil, and spill so that he could finally prove to his Father he was worthy of being an Olympian. Ares would be proud of him and no longer look upon his Son with open suspicion.

  Things in the Mortal World would all fall into place soon enough but before that there was tonight. Raven was looking forward to all of the wicked delights ahead of him with anticipation growing in his head, gut, and groin. No matter what Ares had to say, Raven was going to dip his strong young cock into every hole Aphrodite had to offer tonight. When he was done with her, when the Lady of Love was breathless and spent, he’d start on the Muses then make his way through the Graces, exploring each one in exquisite detail.

  To that gloriously sweaty end, Raven wanted to be ready and in tip-top shape, pumped, primped, primed, and pimped. For the next few hours he availed himself to the heavy iron weights in preparation for the long night ahead.

  II

  Coming up the steps, around the corner,and into the hallway, Raven noticed the silence in the Fortress even as he dabbed the s
weat away from his brawny young body with a soft white towel. Usually when he came up from working out Ares could be heard having a loud discussion with a brash and self-centered Hunter, but not today. Continuing down the hall Raven wound his way into the kitchen.

  “You’re late,” Arianna huffed, “her eggs are getting cold.” With Iris having passed away last year, Arianna was the oldest of Ares’ women to have come to Olympus from his Island.

  Raven reached out for the tray being handed to him and looking down at it his stomach nearly turned; scrambled eggs, chocolate pudding, oatmeal, Ambrosia, Nectar and clear spring water. Hardly fit for a dog. “I was busy. Where’s my Father and Hunter?”

  “Lord Ares took your Brother outside.” Arianna pushed the tray toward the young Master Raven who took it in his hands. “Onya’s up there with Rose; they’re waiting for you.”

  With a huff and eye-roll Raven tried to control, he picked up the tray. “On my way, Arianna, on my way.” He forced a smile before leaving the kitchen on his way to the room where the females waited for him. Upstairs Rose sat in Onya’s lap, her droopy eyes growing heavy with sleep. “Sorry I’m late, I’m trying to get ready for tonight.” Rather than wait for a reply from the Mortal Slave, Raven sat on the edge of the bed and settled the tray on the other side of his sleeping Mother. Taking up a bit of scrambled egg he held it to her lips with the other hand under her chin should it fall out of her mouth.

  Alena’s lips parted at the nudge of the fork and she took in the small bit of warm eggs. The Ritual went without incident—Raven fed his Mother every bit of egg and pudding though she didn’t seem interested in the Ambrosia or Nectar. When she wouldn’t take in anymore, Raven turned to Onya and held out his arms for his Sister. With suspicion in her emerald eyes, as always, Onya rose from the rocking chair and handed Rose over to him. The baby nuzzled next to her Mother while Raven opened Alena’s nightgown and exposed her engorged breast. With a gentle hand he cupped it, his back to Onya, Raven licked his lips as he held it in his hand and took it from the soft cloth. “Why do you look at me like that?” he asked without turning around. “I suckled at this breast long before my Sister did.”