Even as the god of erotic love, he’d outdone himself.
Would her will be stronger than her curiosity, or had he just doomed her?
Bloody hell. He dropped his head into his hands and sighed. Naught was to be done about it. He’d claimed Psyche as wife and lover, and now, he had to find a means to keep her.
“Soren?” Psyche slid a hand around his waist and pressed her lips to his shoulder. He hadn’t even heard her awaken. “What is wrong?”
“Nothing, sweetling.” He forced lightness into his tone and a quirk on his lips, though she couldn’t see it.
“You don’t regret last night, do you?” She inhaled sharply. “I would understand if you di—”
“Nay,” he seized her hand and kissed the top of it. “Never. I would never regret sharing even one moment with you.” So long as it didn’t lead to her death. That, he would never accept.
“Good, because you have made me very happy.” She wiggled into his lap. “As your wife, I would do anything to make you feel the same.”
“Anything?” he teased, pinching the peak of her pert breast until she squeaked in delight.
“Oh yes, my lover, anything.” She wrapped her hands about his neck and beckoned his mouth onto hers.
He groaned into their kiss, desperate to accept her offer, and yet, uncertain if he should. So many obstacles towered between them, they daunted him with their enormity. Her mortality frightened him the most. He could not lose her, not to the Underworld, not to his cursed wager. Only one being had the power to award Psyche immortality. Zeus. Supreme ruler of them all. Eros would have to plead before him, but would it be enough?
He broke their kiss, feathering his lips softly across hers. “A most tempting proposal, sweetling, but I would not lock my new wife in our bedchamber while she starved.” He nipped at her nose and released her. “Go and eat. I will join you shortly.”
She frowned at him but then her stomach rumbled.
“See? Eat.” After fortifying his shadows, he snapped his fingers and the sconces lit a pathway down the corridor. Then he conjured a robe and slid it about her shoulders.
“Very well.” She drew the robe closed around her luscious body, departing the chamber with a sensual sashay of her hips.
It took everything in him not to pursue.
More complex objectives demanded his attention. He was in too deep, beyond his scope of abilities. However, there existed one goddess perfectly suited to aid him.
Eros dressed and flashed into Aphrodite’s throne room. “Mother.” She reclined beside a shallow pool with waters as clear as crystal and fish gleaming with bejeweled scales.
She didn’t greet him, instead, her scrutiny passed across him with a finely arched brow. “I hope you grasp what you have done.”
He swallowed hard. “Wedding a mortal or bedding one?”
“Both.” She shifted onto her elbows to sit. “You cannot possess her, Eros. Even if she comes to love you and you win the wager, you were never meant to keep her.”
The awful truth stabbed into his chest.
“Your union will only lead to disastrous ends for both of you.” She rose to stroll toward him. “You care strongly for the maiden, but she has a destiny that has already been decided by the Fates. To go against them would be to risk everything. As your mother, I cannot permit you to condemn yourself.” Her warm, slender hand caressed his cheek and the ache in his chest spread deeper. “Cherish her for the moments you have, but be prepared for the day you must let her go.”
“Let her go? Nay, I need her, Mother. You don’t understand.” The notion of being separated from Psyche sliced into him, slashing his limbs from his body and carving out his heart.
“Of course I do, my dove.” She lowered her hand and sent him a wistful smile. “I suffer your heartbreak as my own.”
Psyche hummed while she strolled through the gardens. Five weeks had passed since Soren had claimed her as his wife and each day beamed upon her as cheerfully as summertime sunshine. The bliss she experienced in his presence confirmed that each decision she’d made since trading places with the chambermaid had been the right one.
This was where she belonged. This was home.
Whenever she’d brought up the notion of appealing to Eros, Soren had hushed her with the declaration that he would never share his wife. That there was yet another path to freedom.
She rounded a corner and halted, pressing a hand to her mouth. A sudden wave of nausea churned in her stomach and didn’t stop there. Heaving, she expelled her stomach’s contents behind a bush. Sweet gods, she dropped to her knees, wiping her mouth. What caused this sickness? She pressed her hand to her forehead, but she didn’t seem feverish, or ill.
Her eyes shot wide as she recalled Elene, the chambermaid, afflicted with a similar ailment. Psyche glanced down and tentatively pressed her abdomen. Could she be…?
Indeed, her breasts were tender, and in the excitement of being a new bride, she’d dismissed the absence of her feminine bleeding.
“I have to tell him.” She hopped to her feet, elation cascading through her.
A babe. With Soren. Amazing.
Psyche whirled about to head toward the castle, but froze. A faint glow pulsed before her and a moment later, a figure appeared.
Aphrodite? She fell to her knees, bowing before the goddess’s rosy glow.
“Psyche,” the goddess intoned. “Congratulations. You must be so pleased.”
Psyche raised her face. “Thank you, my goddess, and yes, indeed I am.”
Sadness crossed the beautiful goddess’s features. “This is joyous news, but I’m afraid, you must not share it with the babe’s father. Something most awful and perilous will happen if you do.”
Her stomach dropped, threatening to churn again. She parted her lips to inquire further, but none questioned the gods, so she closed her mouth and lowered her face. The goddess’s warm illumination dissipated a moment later. Psyche sank into the ground, burying her face against the soft grass. Why, oh why, must she face yet another foreboding burden? Might she not have even one moment of contentment with her husband?
She pounded her fist into the ground, anger and resignation consuming her.
Why must the gods curse every good thing?
***
Eros grinned toward Psyche as she wandered the gardens. His lovely wife spent a great deal of time amongst the blooms that rivaled her in beauty.
He’d been heeding his mother’s advice and cherishing each moment he had with her. Though he wasn’t convinced this would be enough, until a solution presented itself, it would have to be.
The hairs on the nape of his neck tingled. Movement stirred from the edges of his estate. Company? Indeed, they awaited at the bottom of the cliff.
He flashed to the gates, strode through them, and peered down the precipice. Who in the bloody hell…?
Oh, damn. Two chittering females clung to each other and their excited buzzing drifted toward him. Psyche’s sisters. He recognized their dark hair and features, which mildly resembled, but did not compare to, Psyche’s beauty.
Whatever purpose they had in visiting, it couldn’t be honorable. Although Psyche had never uttered ill of her family, neither had she spoken well of them. Besides, they were aware of his identity. Which meant their only purpose had to be malicious. He ought to allow them to continue their path upward, and let the arachnids deal with them, yet, they were of Psyche’s blood and he refused to cause them harm. However, that didn’t mean he would grant them an audience with his wife.
Nay, he’d determine what they sought and send them away. Far. Away.
Eros marched down the path until he approached the two females. Their lustful gawking swept across him, and one moistened her lips. He detected the spark of their arousal, and it disgusted him. Odd, since he’d witnessed thousands of carnal acts and none had shaken him. Yet their bawdy ogling and suggestive poses, hips protruding outward, made his skin crawl and his gut turn.
“Why hav
e you ventured here?” He crossed his arms and glowered at the pair. “I have told you, Psyche is mine. She’s no longer of any concern to you.”
“Oh, but please, my Lord Eros,” the one with curled locks rushed forward and knelt at his feet. “We have missed her so. Tell us, won’t you, whether she is content?”
Ha! He grimaced at the lack of sincerity in her voice. If anything, the covetousness in her tone only strengthened. “You haven’t come for your sister, mortal, and if you disobey my commands, you will suffer my punishment.”
“With…ropes? Or chains?” She raised her flushed cheeks, eyes gleaming.
“And whips?” the other added, licking her lips eagerly.
He cursed his nature. Like so many others, they viewed him as the object of their passions. They cared not for his true self, not like Psyche.
The one person who couldn’t view him was the only one who truly saw him.
Though she’d never glimpsed his face, he’d never felt so seen.
It made him cherish her all the more.
“No, you will suffer my wrath, mortals,” he ground, envying Ares. No one would so foolishly question his displeasure.
“Oh, he must mean his chamber of erotic torture, Eudora,” the one at his feet whispered to the female behind her, who squealed in delight.
Clenching his jaw, he struggled for fortitude. “Leave, before I change my mind.”
Instead of complying, she rose, leaning in close to him and sliding one palm upward along his chest. “My Lord Eros, we have traveled far and long, and we are exhausted from our journey. Will you not invite us inside, so may rest our weary feet?” She batted thick lashes at him and he seized a step back to shrug off her hand.
“Where are your horses? Your carriage and footmen?” He scanned around them and noted the absence of any servants. Ugh. He couldn’t dismiss them, unattended. They would be picked off, for certain.
“We sent them away,” Eudora giggled. “Don’t worry, our husbands won’t miss us, will they, Sophia?”
Husbands? His stomach rolled in another sickening twist. The gold he’d gifted the King must have facilitated quite the matches, for Eros couldn’t fathom any male agreeing to wed either sister without substantial recompense.
“Oh, they are so dull, Lord Eros,” Sophia chirped. “Please, cannot you permit us an hour? Just one?”
He glared from one set of pleading eyes to the other. These two might be mischievous and immoral, yet he didn’t foresee them causing much harm. Especially not if he kept them away from Psyche.
“Fine. One hour to rest, after which I’ll convey you home in my carriage.”
Their squawking peal grated down the line of his spine, and he hoped like hell this wouldn’t be a disastrous mistake.
***
Psyche wandered the gardens, aimless. How would she keep such an immense secret from her husband? The command came from her goddess and she had no choice. She only prayed it wouldn’t drive a knife of mistrust between them.
That he would forgive her betrayal.
Her shoulders sagged and she braced against one hedge. Enough walking. Her feet were sore and she ought to rest. She was soon to be a mother, after all. Delight tugged at her mouth. Soren would understand, and he’d share in her joy. It would turn out well. She had to have faith. A cup of tea would soothe the aches and twists in her stomach. She headed toward the kitchen to request one of the automaton cook, but Soren crossed her path.
“Morning, darling. Did you enjoy your stroll?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and eased back.
She smiled at the shadows shrouding his face. “Indeed. I was about to inquire after some tea. Would you join me?”
Feminine giggling chimed from within the dining hall. She squinted toward the doors. “Who is here?”
“Here? Oh, no one.” He cleared his throat, sounding nervous. “Those are just…birds.”
“Soren? What are you withholding from me?” She twisted to tilt her head at him. Other than his third rule, he’d always been honest with her.
“Ah, there’s something behind those doors I would rather you didn’t see.” He shuffled his feet and sighed. “It might cause you pain.”
Possibilities flew through her mind, yet none of them seemed plausible. “Fine, I trust you.”
“Thank you, my sweet.” He swooped a kiss onto her cheek and gently prodded her toward the library. “I will bring your tea.”
As she approached the archway, a thunderous crash banged behind her. She whirled about to gape at a flutter of skirts and a female crumpling onto the floor. Psyche balled her hands into fists, but no. She calmed herself. There had to be a reasonable explanation for her husband entertaining females in their castle.
Surely an excuse for him to request her absence.
The sputtering female raised her face, straightening her dark, curly locks.
“Sophia?” Psyche stepped forward, halting. My sister? She swung a frown between Sophia and Soren.
“She came to visit and insisted on staying.” He braced a hand beneath her elbow. “I feared her presence would upset you.”
“Upset me?” Indeed, her emotions tumbled inside her. Before she could utter otherwise, her other sister stumbled into the kitchen.
“And Eudora, I see.” Psyche forced a smile. True enough, part of her wished to cast out these two mischievous and unkind creatures, yet her husband had offered them his hospitality and she ought to do the same.
“Please, won’t you stay and join me for tea?” She waved them through to the sitting room on the right and patted Soren’s grip on her arm. “It will be all right. I can manage them, I promise.”
***
These past two hours had been nowhere near all right. Eros gritted his teeth, thankful for his shadows, so Psyche didn’t witness his irritation.
After tea, they’d toured the estate. The envy and resentment on the two sisters’ faces was hard to miss. Of course his castle was immense and bathed in luxury. He was a god, after all. However, as the sisters roamed the corridors, he wished he lived in a hovel. Their pouting mouths twisted with contempt and calculation. They could only mean to cause discord. He ushered them along, toward the library. The last stop on their tour and then he’d send them on their way.
Out of his and Psyche’s lives forever.
“Oh, sister.” Eudora entwined her arm with Psyche’s and clucked as they strolled into the library. “It’s marvelous. How fortunate you are. I remember how you so adored our humble library.”
“Why, yes. I did.” The hesitation in her tone suggested she didn’t accept this sudden congeniality any more than he did.
“It’s lovely, isn’t it, Sophia?” Eudora pressed, harder, elbowing her sister.
What in Hades were they up to?
“Ah, yes, lovely,” Sophia parroted. “After this, I should be ashamed to have you visit my humble home, Psyche.”
Oh, no.
“Not at all, dearest sisters.” Psyche clasped their hands and the three embraced in a circle. “Nothing shall ever change the blood that flows through us. I would be honored to share in your lives.”
Damn. What conniving little whores. They’d twirled Psyche about in their claws and caught her in their spiteful grasps.
“How wonderful. Perhaps you shall accompany us home, for a short while?” Eudora tugged, spinning them about.
“No.” He held up a hand, halting this madness. “Psyche does not have my permission to leave.”
As soon as he spoke the words, he grimaced at his error. Psyche’s eyes flashed and her lips pressed thinly together.
“What I mean, is, ah…” He raked a hand through his locks, unable to conjure any explanation that wouldn’t condemn himself further. Psyche couldn’t depart his castle, that was his second rule, their agreement. To forbid her to visit her family, well, that made him sound like a monster, indeed.
He glanced aside, struggling for words, and a fluttering speck of white outside caught his focus. Snow? He strode to
the window and scrutinized the scenery. Thousands of fluffy crystals drifted through the air, landing on the balcony and trees, coating everything in their cold dust.
Bloody hell, as if things couldn’t get worse. Groaning, he sagged forward in defeat. “What I meant was, none of you can leave. There’s a storm coming.”
In more ways than one.
***
Psyche frowned at the darkened mists surrounding her husband. He was behaving rather oddly. She didn’t blame him for not liking her siblings, yet they were their guests. She’d dealt with them her entire life. One night wouldn’t change anything.
“Come, it is late. Let me show you to your chambers.” Psyche led her sisters toward the guest wing. After she settled them, she searched for Soren. In the library, she found him, collapsed into an armchair, head concealed, clutched in his hands.
“We should retire, as well.” She offered him her hand and the shadows fell across his face as he seized it.
“Psyche, forgive me for my behavior today. I only meant to prevent you from becoming upset.”
“I know.” She rested her cheek against his chest. “My sisters are full of wild exaggerations, but no tale they spin would alter my affection for you.”
He paused and clasped her about the shoulders. “I truly hope not.” Wrapping her in his arms, he carted her to their bed.
She stretched about lazily on the mattress, more exhausted than usual. Instead of waiting for Soren to make love to her, she curled onto her side and fell asleep.
A clang down the corridor shot Psyche wide awake. Who stirred at this hour? Darkness surrounded her, so it must still be night. Padding softly so as not to awaken Soren, she shuffled from the bed and into the hallway. Murmuring whispers carried from the library. Cautiously, she rounded the corner and peeked inside. Her two sisters perched on the sofa, pouring through a pile of books.
“I don’t know how she can stand it.” Sophia shook her head.
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