Artemis had to admit that she liked the sound of that and Mordred’s proposal had come written in the stars. Literally. He and Nyx, her sister-in-law, got along famously and she helped. Apollo still didn’t care too much for him, but he’d stopped trying to burn his face off and that was saying something.
Morgan and Lance decided on something smaller, more intimate. Sure, they were happy to put on the show, but they’d vowed their troth to each other already among the apple trees in Avalon’s famous orchard where they met. And she wore the purple lace dress that had him so entranced.
Vivienne, as much as she loved Hector had reservations about handfasting with a man so many years her junior, but when he asked her for her hand, all she could say was yes.
Aphrodite thought that it was funny how all of these loves simply fell into place once hers fell apart. But she wasn’t bitter, and she was so happy for all of her friends. She was even happy for herself. She and Aeron were dating and neither were in a hurry to rush into anything.
They still had to deal with Ares because even though he’d said he wanted Aphrodite to be happy, he was convinced that she’d be happiest with him. Her sincere break up with him had been a kick to the war hammer and he was determined to win her hand. Aeron had encouraged her to let him try, because he could only win if she was still in love with him.
But their adventures aren’t over. Ares is loud and determined to be heard, so look for Desperate Housewives of Olympus: ARES coming soon.
DESPERATE HOUSEWIVES OF OLYMPUS: ARES
Amrbosia Lane:
Book Three
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Hahaha. No, no, no. She’s done talking. She had two books, this is allll mine. Mine. Mine. So how you doin’? Yeah, you. I’m talking to you, pretty one. You want a piece of Ares? Just keep reading, I’m all yours.
This guy. Having him in my head has been the all Ares channel, all the time. He’s still pretty hot, but don’t tell him I said so. I mean, he’d never let me live it down. Aphrodite warned me, but when the muse bites, what can you do?
I heard that.
No, you didn’t. Be quiet. We’re not talking to you yet, I’m talking to the readers. The readers we love. It’s their turn.
You’re right. It’s their turn to take a spin on my Warhammer.
All this author can do is sigh. I give you ARES. *whispers* It’s going to be great seeing Love hand him his ass on a platter.
You like my ass.
Well, who doesn’t, really? Anyway, on with the show.
Oh, one more thing. (Shut up, Ares.) You may notice I introduced a character in later parts of the book who is referred to as “they and them.” This is not a typo or an error. This character is genderfluid and that is their preference.
1
ARES
“F uck you,” the dark-haired woman on the couch said half-heartedly to the screen, weaving this way and that, as if the game console controller worked better from a different angle.
Ares wondered if she knew how stupid she looked, holding the controller in the air and shaking it around like she was dowsing for water. He tried not to snicker.
There was someone behind her avatar. Her character twisted in the game world and shot his face off.
“Yeah, fuck you,” she reiterated with glee.
Ares waited for her to realize he was there. The crow on her shoulder turned around and eyed him hard. After carding his beak through the strands of her long black hair a few times, grooming her, he looked at Ares and said, “No, fuck you.”
“Hey, Ares.” She didn’t even turn around.
“Still getting your ass kicked by some punk-ass twelve-year old girl in Dumptruck, Texas?” He flopped on the couch beside her.
“Still getting your ass kicked by the Goddess of Love?” the crow cawed in his mistress’s defense.
He did not need this crap today. “I’m going to wring that bird’s neck, Morri.” He bared his teeth at the little beast.
His threat didn’t even faze her. She still hadn’t even looked at him. She was playing Black Ops and very involved in her mission. “No, you’re not. Because then I’d have to smite your face and you won’t get laid for the hundred years that it’ll take it heal.”
“Fine. So I won’t smite Corvinus. He has it coming though. I mean, you shouldn’t tell a man to fuck off in his own temple.”
“Can you shut your dickholster for a second while I fin—damnit!” She swore and slammed the controller down. Black lightning crackled around her fingertips and she made a sound of frustration. “I will defeat FuriousGamerGirl. I will!”
Amusement bubbled up into a peel of laughter. “You got stomped by a twelve year old. Again.”
“Shut. Up. I’m warning you, Ares.” She arched a black brow as she turned to look at him.
“Or you’re going to what?” he taunted. The only person he loved riling more than Aphrodite was Morri—or The Morrigan as her followers called her.
“You know what.” Her tone held the promise of certain violence.
Her power zapped him in the side and he laughed again. It tickled. Of course, Ares was the only one who could withstand that sort of treatment from her, which was part of why they were such great friends.
“Come on, CrowQueenofTerror—” he referred to her gamer tag “—let’s go get a beer, yeah?”
“What happened? I thought you were going on some romantic getaway weekend with Aphrodite on Avalon?” She wrinkled her nose, presumably at the idea of a romantic getaway. That wasn’t her speed at all.
He shook his head. “Dude, she’s on some bullshit. I can’t even...”
“What now?” Morri had never cared much for Aphrodite. She didn’t hate her or anything, they just didn’t speak the same language. “I thought this getaway thing was to work on your relationship or something?”
“She says we’re done. Finished. Over.” He shrugged. “I did everything you said. I chased her. I brought her presents. I made the Grand Gesture.”
She eyed him warily. “Grand Gesture? What did you do?”
Maybe threatening to start a multi-pantheon war hadn’t been the brightest idea he’d ever had. He could admit that.
“Really?” She pursed her lips at his silence. She obviously knew him too well. “That crap this weekend with Aeron and Thor, that was you?” Morri sighed. “You know, if you would just tell her that you loved her…”
“I did tell her, and she said I didn’t.” He really didn’t know what the goddess wanted from him.
Morri looked pensive. “Huh. Well, she would know. Maybe you don’t.”
“Oh, what do you know about it? You’re a war god just like me.” As if she was any better at that lovey-dovey crap than he was. Exhibit A, her current single status.
“War goddess, thank you very much.” She scrunched her arms against her breasts to enhance her cleavage. “See, boobs. Goddess. Say it with me, Ares. Goddess.”
“You just look like a goddess. Underneath that pretty wrapping, you’re a dude. Trust me on that.”
“I’m also the Goddess of Hearth.”
He snorted. “Not so much.”
“No, really.” She nodded. “Don’t make me whip it out.”
“I would pay to see that.” Ares grinned, imagining her in a Donna Reed get up. Dress and heels and all. The pearls. Especially the pearls. Maybe wearing only the pearls. The idea of it was suddenly…appealing. Much too appealing.
Oh, no no no! He didn’t think about her that way. She was The Morrigan, badass bitch of badass bitches, who deep down inside, was really a war god. The boobs and hips were just wrapping.
Very pretty wrapping that if frosted with 1950’s housewife could be very—no. He strangled that thought in its infancy and flung it to the wolves where he’d never think of it again.
She cocked her head to the side. “You look like you swallowed a dirty sock. I’d ask what’s wrong with you, but I know. You don’t even have to tell me.” He could hear the exasperation in her voice.
“I doubt that very much.” Yeah, if she’d had any idea what he was thinking—
“You were perving on the idea of me all girly.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s my own fault for telling you to look at my rack. Everyone thinks Zeus is the giant manwhore, but I bet you have him beat in spades.”
“I—” He didn’t know what to say to that. She actually did know what he was thinking. It sure as hell beat all those nights when Aphrodite would sit up, look out at the universe and ask him what he was thinking about. He hated that.
He wasn’t always thinking about anything in particular. Mostly, it was about war. About guns. Tanks. Strategy. Ways he would have done things differently in all the great conflicts. And sometimes, it was nothing at all. Sometimes, he was just silent and enjoying the peace he felt wrapped up in silk sheets with his beautiful goddess.
Not that he’d ever admit that out loud, but even a war god had to take a day off.
“Whatever. You don’t even have to tell me I’m right. I don’t need your validation.” She slapped his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go get that beer and find you some rebound sex before your dick turns evil and starts convincing you to do stupid things.”
Corvinus hopped from her shoulder on to his and he knew the bird wasn’t trying to make up for telling him to fuck off earlier. Once, he’d made the mistake of getting the little corvid piss drink and while it was an experience Corvinus kept trying to repeat, Morrigan would lose her shit. She’d hold true to her word and smite Ares’s face. She’d done it before and he always had to work harder to get women into bed with him when he was scarred.
“I’m not giving you any more whiskey. Remember what happened last time?” He eyed the bird. Morrigan said chicks dug scars, but not in his experience. Or maybe it was just that he liked his own face too much to risk it?
The crow leaned close to his ear. “If you touch my mistress with those thoughts in your head, I’ll eat your eyes.” He fluttered back to his perch on Morri and resumed braiding her hair with his beak.
“Corv, you’re being nice, aren’t you?” Her tone indicated that she knew very well he wasn’t being anything near nice.
“Yes,” he cawed.
“No, I mean it. Ares is my best friend.”
The bird gave her hair a little yank with his beak.
“Aside from you.”
“Yes, mistress.” He kept braiding her hair.
“What did he say to you?” she asked, a suspicious expression on her face.
Ares glanced back and forth between the ink stain and his best ride or die bro. He could bitch up and tattle, but that’s not how Ares wanted things to be. Plus, the next time he pulled a feather out of the bird’s wing for being salty, if he tattled, he’d have shit-talking rights forever. “Just between us guys, it’s all good.”
“It better be.”
“Yes, mistress,” Ares mocked.
“Shut up.” She sighed and zapped him with a bolt of energy.
Except this time it tickled him in an unmentionable place. It wasn’t unmentionable because he feared the bird—screw the bird. It was unmentionable because she was Morri.
And he was with Aphrodite—whether she knew it or not. He must have grumbled because Morri said, “Stop that. You sound like a dog choking on a bone. It’s not going to help anything. Tell me exactly what Aphrodite said.”
Bone? No, he wasn’t going there.
“Exactly?” He was grateful to have something else to think about besides weird Morri thoughts. “She said that she looked into my heart and I didn’t love her. Or, that I did, I cared about her, but I wasn’t in love with her.”
“And how do you feel about that?”
“How do I feel about it? For fuck’s sake, Morri.” He rolled his eyes. Why did they always want him to talk about his feelings? For Ares, it was like being asked about his colon. Both were fine left unmolested and undiscussed.
“No, don’t give me that. It made you feel something. What?”
“Angry.”
“Why angry?”
Why angry? Was it universal that all goddesses had to ask dumb questions? Wouldn’t she be angry if he asked her the same? He knew she would, but he decided to answer anyway. “Because how does she know what I feel? Just because she’s the Goddess of Love, that doesn’t mean she knows everything. She’s not me, she doesn’t know what she means to me. She wants me to ponce about telling her I love her. That’s not what I have to offer. I mean, I do. But I don’t say it.”
“Why not? Wars have been fought for love.”
“Not you too.” Ares really believed that Morrigan, of all people, would see where his was coming from and take his side.
“Not me too, what?” She shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “If you plant a tree and you don’t water it, it dies.”
“Why can’t I water it with my own water? Why does it have to be her water?”
“Uh, I don’t like that visual. Moving on.”
“You know what I mean. Why is it her way or the highway?” Wasn’t it still love, even if it didn’t fit Aphrodite’s fairytale ideology? He was the one feeling the feelings, after all.
“Why can’t you bend just once?” She put her hands on her hips. “I can tell you, I for one wouldn’t take your shit.” Morri wrinkled her nose.
“Look, she does this every few thousand years or so. I just have to get her back in bed.” He held up his hands. “Once I make her come and scream loud enough to bring down the pillars of Olympus, we’re all good for another couple centuries.”
“Why do you think that an orgasm is the answer to all problems?”
As if she didn’t know the answer to that one. “Listen, we’re both war. We both know if people would fuck instead of fight, there’d be a lot less strife.”
“That’s really an oversimplification. If people could let go of greed, avarice, jealousy, and hatred, there would be less war and more sex. But to simply equate more sex with less fighting, you haven’t been paying attention.”
“Can we just have our beer? Why do we have to talk politics?”
“Aww, is the wittle Awes too tuckered to spar?” She made a faux pouty face.
“Woman, don’t push me,” he warned. His blood was already hot and a fight was brewing under his skin.
“Or what?” She flung his own taunt back in his face.
Ares had had enough. He turned and launched himself at her, but she was ready. She was smaller than he was, but she used his weight against him and sent him crashing into the far wall.
He hopped to his feet and Corvinus cawed in dismay from his new perch on the couch.
“Come on.” She motioned for him to come and get her. Her eyes were bright, her cheeks flushed with the fight.
He launched himself at her again, but this time, he was ready. He swept her knee out from beneath her and put her on the ground hard. But in no time, she’d used her strength to roll them so that she was the one pinning him.
His fury was gone as quickly as it had come. “You just wanted to be on top of me.”
“Of course I did. On top of you is winning. Duh.”
He smirked. “Isn’t it just?” Ares twisted and used his power to smash her into the wall, and she laughed as bits of brick and mortar tumbled to the ground around them.
“You’re stupid.” One of the braids had fallen in her face and he pushed it away with a casual intimacy.
“But you like me anyway.” He smirked.
“Yeah, I kind of missed you.” She nudged him. “But don’t let that shit go to your head.”
Go to his head. He realized that all of this had gone to one head and it wasn’t the one on his shoulders. What the hell was wrong with him? Morri was a friend, and not the kind with salacious benefits.
“I’d never.” He released her, his chest heaving with the effort it took not to cross the line. His blood was quick to heat in all ways, not just his rage, but his lust too. “You remember when we met?”
He needed to re
mind himself who she was to him.
“You pulled my braids and I thought Corvinus was going to peck your eyes out.”
“He tried. And you laughed and laughed. What were we, six?” He remembered her braids were too thick for her head and with her big eyes, and round cheeks, she reminded him of a doll.
“Yeah. I remember Aphrodite marched right over and demanded that you be kind and love me. She was new to her powers, just like the rest of us.”
“And how we both laughed at her. We said, we’re War in unison and she stomped off, heart-shaped glitter exploding in her wake. It took her a while to learn how to turn that off.”
“I really thought that she’d cursed me because I kept calling her Heart Fart.”
“Why did you think she cursed you?” Ares asked her.
“Oh, you know.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “None of my relationships have ever worked out.”
“That’s because they’re unworthy.” He scoffed at the idea of any god thinking he was good enough for his Morri.
“Because you terrify them,” she teased, as if she didn’t terrify the other gods all on her own.
“If they’re afraid of me, they’re not good enough for you. Because baby, I’m not going anywhere. We’re a package deal.” He punched her in the shoulder, as much to remind himself that she was Morri and not pretty boobs and a night of fun, as it was to reinforce the dynamic between them.
He turned the conversation back to Aphrodite. “She’s sleeping with Aeron, I think.”
“Wait, what?” Morri turned to look at him.
“Yeah. That’s why the Grand Gesture. I mean, she does this, but she doesn’t usually take it that far.”
“I think Aeron and I are going to have a discussion.” Morri frowned.
“You know Aphrodite won’t appreciate that.” She would less than appreciate it. In fact, she’d be livid.
But at least she wouldn’t ignore him anymore.
Determination hardened like a mask across her features. “It’s a good thing then, that I’m not Aphrodite’s bestie. I’m yours.”
Ambrosia Lane 1-3: Saranna DeWylde Page 48