A mermayde. A Water Borne.
Psyche gasped in awe, extending her fingers toward the beauteous creature.
“Nay, do not approach the water.” Eros snatched her hand, but then froze at the sight of the mermayde. “I recognize you.” His dark brows bunched. “You’re the enchantress.”
The maiden fluttered her curled lashes. “Everyone speaks of your mother’s quests. I wish to offer you my aid.”
“At what cost?” The sudden twitching of Eros’s jaw sent uncertainty spiking through Psyche’s veins.
The mermayde hummed. “An arrow.”
Eros’s nostrils flared. “If I refuse?”
“Then you will have no golden wool.” Those brilliant turquoise orbs glittered in triumph, but softened. “ ’Tis for nothing devious, I assure you.”
“Ha.” Eros snorted. “I’ve heard that before. My arrows are far more potent than most realize. You might regret using it.”
“No, my Lord,” Aedre purred, “I would not.”
Instead of striking the deal, Eros glanced at her. “What say you, Psyche?”
“Me?” She pressed her lips together. “I know nothing of arrows or this enchantress.”
He seized her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Yes, but I trust in your judgment more than my own. What would you do?”
Her heart fluttered. Eros trusts me? Why, for she kept nothing but secrets from him. She had to stop herself from cradling her belly and the child within her. Forcing her attention on the quest, she studied the mermayde floating beneath them. Though Psyche knew nothing of Water Borne, Aedre did not behave as one intent on malicious acts. In fact, through those sparkling depths, a kind of desperation poured, as though from her soul. “I would give her the arrow.”
Without even considering it further, Eros flourished one golden arrow before them and handed it through the waters to the mermayde.
Aedre dipped her head in thanks. “The squelching heat of the sun fuels their fierce rage. Hide beneath that leafy tree there,” she pointed to the one opposite them along the bank,” until after the noon sun has passed. Then, the cool breeze will calm the sheep and quell their fury. Once they are calmed, steal into the grove beyond them and shake the bushes. You shall find your golden wool there.”
“Thank you.” Psyche sighed as the mermayde vanished into the river’s watery abyss.
“Well?” Eros, clasping her hand, led her onto the edge of the bank. “Are you ready to fly once more? This time, we shall be swifter than the winds themselves, and hide as Aedre instructed.”
She smiled at the light shining in Eros’s eyes and spoke the words forming in her heart, “Yes, I am ready.”
***
Eros did not regret heeding Aedre’s counsel in the least, for it gifted him hours of close huddling with Psyche beneath luscious green foliage that matched the hue of her vibrant eyes.
She curled in his lap, her head resting against his chest, as the long hours stretched. Often, her passions would stir, but she fought and suppressed them.
Few had ever behaved as she did. None for the reasons he hoped, either.
“Tell me, why did you enter into this wager with your mother?”
He tensed. This was the conversation he’d dreaded. What if Psyche didn’t trust the honesty of his words?
“You will not like my tale, dearest Psyche, but please understand, there is a reason you still have breath.”
She twisted and peered at him. “Tell me. Everything.”
He cleared his throat and exhaled deeply. “You are aware of the bonding, yes? The union Aphrodite fashioned between mortals?”
“Yes.” She clutched her hands in her lap.
“Well, ages ago, I was not the same male I am today. I was far more foolish and arrogant, and Aphrodite’s bonding irked me greatly.” He rubbed his jaw. “I devised a counter to her union—that the female of the pair should experience intense pleasure at the hand of her bonded male.”
A fresh bloom of pink rushed across Psyche’s cheeks. “How very wicked of you.”
He chuckled. “Aye, that I was. Wicked and rebellious. So damned determined I knew everything that I had to prove it myself. Therefore, I proposed a bet with my mother.”
She stiffened in his arms, as he’d feared she would, so he rushed his next words. “My cocksureness blinded me, and I declared I could win the heart of any maiden, that blissful rapture would surely be more potent to forge a union than my mother’s bonding was.”
He paused, but Psyche uttered nothing, so he continued, “We set out the rules. The maiden was to be my choice, and she could not look upon my face or else she would be consumed with lust, so…”
“Rule number three,” Psyche murmured.
“Yes. To make the risk great, we had to offer her life as the stake. Only then would we be assured she would not fail.”
“She did.” Psyche lowered her lashes, fanning them across her cheeks. “They all did.”
He huffed deeply, his shoulders dropping. “Every maiden, every century, until you, Psyche.”
She shook her head. “No, I failed as well.”
“I feared you had, but…” He retrieved the rose from his castle, flashing it into his hand.
Psyche gasped at the glistening bloom. “The rose?”
“Aphrodite tricked me. She made me assume this rose reflected the heart of the maiden I chose. That once it bloomed, she would love me.”
He curled his fingers beneath her chin and gazed into her eyes. “This rose doesn’t reflect your heart.” Intense bolts of fear spiked through him at the declaration he was about to make. Words he had never pictured himself uttering. Ever.
“My love, this rose reflects mine.”
***
Psyche blinked, her heart squeezing fiercely within her chest. “Eros…”
“I love you, Psyche.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb. “It has only taken me a thousand years to learn how. I surrender my heart at your feet; my soul is at your mercy. I’ve done naught to deserve your affection, but I pray you receive mine as sincere.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and then rose, shifting her in his arms and placing her on her feet. “Come, the sheep have calmed.”
Without waiting for her to reciprocate, Eros strode toward the grove.
She observed him, wavering and blinking. Had the god of eroticism confessed his love for her?
A mortal?
A liar.
She scrunched her nose and pressed a hand to her abdomen. Her ungrateful, mortal self hadn’t reciprocated. One hot tear spilled down her cheek and she stared at the rose in her hand. A wager among the gods. That was what had brought them together.
Dare she place her faith in his words, and in his heart?
Carefully, she placed the bloom in her skirt pocket, keeping it safe until she had more time to ponder his declarations. Psyche dashed to catch up with him and gaped at the tufts of golden wool tangled in the branches of the bushes. She cast a peek behind her at the sheep. They pastured, calmly noting her and Eros’s presences. Who would have guessed?
As she advanced toward Eros, a shriek wailed from within the herd. Psyche spun around and froze at the sight of one enraged sheep, and the ghostly maiden behind it. Wisps of black and white locks whipped about her transparent head while one ebony and one pearlescent eye glowered at her in fury.
Psyche’s lips parted. The woman looked…familiar.
“Fortuna, no!” Eros roared behind Psyche. His wings beat savagely, throwing up a whirlwind around her that lifted her off her feet just as the sheep charged.
The female hissed in rage and sent the herd scattering.
Eros’s strong arms wrapped about Psyche and carried her safely away. Once inside Aphrodite’s temple, he set them on the ground.
“Who was she?” Psyche pinched the bridge of her nose. Those opposing eyes were so familiar.
“Fortuna.” Eros grimaced, then clasped her upper arm and rubbed soothingly.
“I know her.” She swung her hea
d, the memory alighting in her mind. Oh. “She’s the priestess who crossed Aphrodite.”
“What? Nay, it cannot be her.” Dark shadows flickered across his features.
“Why not? How do you know her?”
“She was the first.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly. “Why isn’t she dead? Resting in Elysium like the others?” Eros scowled. “Bloody Apollo. He must have snatched her soul before she entered the Underworld.”
“The first maiden sacrifice?” She clapped a hand over her mouth, sickness twisting her stomach, and she seized a step away from him.
“You should know, she wielded a light to my face before I ever had the chance to bed her.” Flapping his wings, he cleared his throat. “Fortuna is dangerous. She has the power to reverse the fortune of a mortal’s fate. To change their luck.”
“My scars,” Psyche prodded her shoulder. “They changed my fate.”
“Aye.” Eros nodded. “That must have been Fortuna’s doing. My mother never intended your torment.”
“Why did Fortuna attack me?” Psyche rubbed her face in her hands and perched on a stone slab. “I have lost everything. There is no good luck for her to steal from me anymore.”
***
Eros froze at Psyche’s words. His declaration of love had been for naught. Psyche counted her fortunes and his heart wasn’t amongst them.
What goal did Fortuna have in harming Psyche? That damned Apollo and this bloody war of his with Hades and Persephone. Eros fisted his hands. He’d never liked the sun god, but neither had he wished to be a part of the war the gods of the Underworld strove to commence.
Why couldn’t they make love, instead of war? Seemed a much better expenditure of everyone’s time, to him.
Aphrodite flashed into the temple, ending his ruminations. “Well? Have you succeeded?”
“Yes, Mother.” He handed her the tuft of gold, which she rolled about in her hands with squeals of delight. “Despite encountering our old friend Fortuna. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t important. Until tomorrow.” And with that, she vanished.
Once again, he was alone with his bride, unable to touch her as the depths of his soul longed to do.
If anything, his confessions had widened the chasm between their trust. “Fortuna attacked me, not you. She sought to harm the one thing I care for most in this world.” He knelt before her. “You.”
One lonely tear slid down her cheek. “How can I believe you? I fear I don’t know you at all.”
“Sweet Psyche, you’re the only one who ever has.” He brushed aside her tear and clasped her hands. “I am the same man who has fallen ever deeper into love with you, from the moment you threatened to kill me.” He chuckled at the memory.
A tiny tilt lifted the corner of her mouth. “So, you are definitely not a dragon.”
“Nay, not a dragon,” he trailed his fingertips upward along her arm, “though I won’t admit to not being a beast.”
Her lashes fluttered at his caress, fueling him. He wasn’t willing to concede defeat yet. “Come with me.” Rising, he extended his hand to her.
“Where?” She sent him a coy smile that made him reconsider his plans.
He stamped down his urges and waved his hand until she accepted it. “You must have questions, curiosities about me. Let me answer them. Not three questions or five or ten. I promise to show you everything.”
“No more shadows?” She arched her brows hopefully.
“No more shadows. From now on, only the light of day between us. Steel yourself, Psyche, and come play with me.” He pressed a kiss to her hand and swung her into his arms, beating his wings to light them into the air. Mortals couldn’t view him unless he wished them to, and in his arms, Psyche would possess the same level of discretion.
She gasped and wrapped her arms about his shoulders, clinging to him as they soared higher.
He searched the towns and villages below for the perfect target.
A handful of inebriated guests at an inn? Nay, too rowdy.
In the next house, a husband and wife with five boisterous children? Definitely not tonight.
There, in a meadow beneath a flowering olive tree, two youths, their lips as yet chaste from each other’s kisses.
Aye, he would reveal to Psyche what he had learned.
“Them?” she whispered in his ear.
“Watch.” He winked and plucked a gilded arrow from his quiver.
“Eros,” Psyche clucked, “they are too young for that!”
“Trust me.” He licked the tip of the arrow before aiming and loosing it at the lass, who jolted at its invisible prick.
The lad had been shuffling his feet for the last five minutes, unable to scrounge together the courage to kiss her, but the effect of the arrow Eros had tempered coursed through the maiden’s blood. She flung her arms around the lad’s neck and shot her lips to his.
Their kiss was sweet and tender. Everything a first kiss should be.
The maiden lifted onto the tips of her toes and sighed against the lad’s mouth. He caressed her cheek and drew back, gazing in awe at her.
“They’re in love,” Psyche hummed.
“Aye. Love, not lust.” He switched his attention to her face, staring into her lovely eyes. “I perceive the difference now.”
“Do you, Eros?” She knit her brows together. “What do you feel for me?”
“With you, Arete,” he pressed his lips softly to hers for a brief moment, “lust, love, they are one. For you, I feel everything.”
Eros’s tender words splintered Psyche’s heart. She wasn’t yet free to reciprocate them, not until she could be completely honest with him.
To share the joy of their babe.
Instead, she wrapped one hand around the back of his head, burrowing her fingers into his golden locks, and murmured, “Show me more.”
Before he could question her, she claimed his mouth, kissing him for an intense moment, distracting both him and herself from that undeclared promise.
“How much more?” He halted their kiss, his breathing as uneven as hers.
She flashed him a mischievous smirk. “You’re the god of erotic love. Prove it to me.”
A rumbling growl echoed in his chest and he took flight, soaring through the air with her in his steady embrace.
The next couple they visited were neither tender of age nor inexperienced in passions. Eros brandished a golden arrow from his quiver and instead of slinging the arrow, he offered her the bow.
“Why them?” She frowned at the pair. “If they wish to make love, they will.”
“Ah, but look.” He jerked his chin toward the male. “Lust’s whirlwind crashes through him, yet he knows not how to woo her reciprocation. And she,” he pointed at the female, “she longs for him to seize command of her body and ignite her deepest desires.”
“How can you tell?”
“I am the embodiment of lust, Psyche. I live and breathe it.” Bold wickedness slanted his lips. “Study how the male carries himself, fisting his hand to keep from snaring her. She flutters her lashes, casting him coquettish movements which he misses. These two require a small push, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Hmm. You’re right.” She examined the pair, nodding.
“I’m always right, when it comes to eroticism. None can hide from me.”
Did that mean… Oh, gods. Eros sensed precisely how she struggled with her yearnings for him.
“Your choice.” He rescued her from the heat flushing her cheeks with a distraction. “Whom shall you shoot? The bonded male who adores her or the female whose affection he is attempting to win?”
She gripped the bow, expertly stringing the arrow.
“Obviously the male,” she intoned, nocking the arrow. “Make him strive for her affections.”
“As you wish.”
She released the arrow and it flew straight into the male’s right thigh. He jolted and rubbed his leg, but shrugged, seeking out his female instead.
“You are correct,” Eros inhaled against Psyche’s locks, “that eroticism can be different for males and females. All the man required was a jolt to his blood and he is hard for her.” The man’s thick ridge strained against his breeches. “Yet the female, she requires something far more subtle, nuanced, and truly, an art to obtain.” Eros twirled his fingers. “See how I caress her mind, stirring fanciful yearnings within her.” While the male stalked toward her and pressed light kisses to her neck, she moaned, melting toward him.
It didn’t take long for them to tear off each other’s clothes, and well… She averted her face, but Eros curled his finger beneath her chin and angled her face toward them again. “Don’t be shy, Psyche. There is no shame in what they are doing, and none in observing them. This is my purpose, to flame the fires of lust. Be assured, they are grateful for it. Watch, as you long to do, and learn, so one day you may aid another couple to achieve the same bliss.”
His reasoning spun in her mind and she found no argument against it. How else would Eros improve his art except through practice? Those two mortals were certainly not timid in their exclaimed grunts and shrieking mewls. Once past their hesitations, they tore at each other, climbing and grinding, rutting savagely like animals.
Eros reclined, chin in his hands, and he studied them, as though taking note and marking their behavior. It was true, someone had to be responsible for imagining and creating the ways in which mortals pleasured each other. If not Eros, then who? As his wife, she shared in the responsibility. While he may grasp how to seduce a female, he did not possess a feminine mind.
Psyche seated herself beside him, watching them with intent interest. “There,” she pointed at the pair. “See how she tilts her head, willing him to kiss her neck, yet he does not?”
“Nicely done.” Eros winked at her, then focused on the male. A moment later, the man nipped his woman’s neck and she whimpered in delight.
“Hmm. Seduction is an art, not an act of brute force, isn’t it.”
He grinned broadly at her. “Exactly.” With a satisfied quirk on his lips, he leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head.
Together, they regarded the mating pair until their passions were spent and they collapsed in each other’s arms.
Shadow Borne Page 16