Love's Immortal Passion

by Cat Johnson

  Epilogue

  Eros held the pages penned in the servant’s handwriting in his hand, but he could no longer focus on the words partly because he shook so badly he couldn’t hold the book still enough to read it. More because his head spun with the absurdity of it all. He’d wasted more than one lifetime living without her for nothing. He’d been so stupid on so many levels. First for believing himself in love with a woman he’d only glanced briefly. Then for not trusting the woman he’d come to know and love over the weeks they’d spent together.

  Trying to build a relationship based on deception had been his fault to begin with. Now after reading as far as he had in the writings of this servant Hagne, he realized that.

  “Did you finish?” Erato’s voice knocked him out of his thoughts.

  “No.” His voice shook with emotion. He cleared his throat and reached for his wine. It would take more than what filled his cup to squelch the pain of knowing the woman he loved had died when he could have prevented it. “I can’t. What more is there to read? She’s dead. Even if she hadn’t died on that mountainside because of my foolishness, she’d be dead by now. It was all so long ago.”

  Eros rose and threw the pages on the ground at Erato’s feet.

  It wouldn’t do for the god of love to act the fool over a woman, like a schoolboy who’d been shot by one of his own golden arrows, but that was exactly how he felt. A pouty, angry boy. “Why? Why would you bring me such a thing when there's nothing I can do to reverse the events of the past?”

  The pain nearly tore his heart from his chest.

  “You should finish reading,” Erato suggested calmly.

  “No! Enough games, Erato. Enough.” Eros spun on him. “You wanted to see me show my emotions. Well here they are. Are you happy, my friend?”

  Erato had placed one hand on his own cup of wine during Eros's outburst to stop it from vibrating off the table upon which it sat. Eros observed that with bitter satisfaction, knowing it was his emotions causing the tremors that shook the walls.

  Sudden weariness and the realization that it all didn’t matter anymore hit him hard. He let out a soft, bitter laugh at the irony of it all.

  His friend shook his head. “She’s not dead.”

  “What?” What new game was this Erato played? “Do not toy with me—”

  “I’m not, Eros.” Erato rose, stepped over the book Eros had flung at his feet and came to him. With one steady hand on Eros's less than steady shoulder, Erato continued, “Bliss didn’t die on that mountain, but her sister Adelfa did. She fell off the cliff to her death after attacking Bliss. Hagne and Psyche bound Bliss’s head wound and somehow managed to get her down the path until they encountered a shepherd. He gave them shelter and went for help.”

  Eros laughed sadly. “Even worse, then. She is…she was mortal, so she lived a long life before growing old, withering and dying.

  “You’re correct, she was mortal. She’s not any longer.”

  Did Eros dare hope? “How? What are you saying?”

  “Hagne wrote that Bliss and Psyche sought the help of the gods, or rather a goddess. Hera to be exact. Bliss wanted to find you and prove she hadn’t betrayed you. Psyche wanted to make things up to her sister. They went through many trials and in the end, though the two passed every test, the gods proved as duplicitous as ever.”

  Eros's attention focused solely on Erato’s words but he couldn’t comprehend their meaning past the sound of his pounding heart. “What are you telling me?”

  “Hera granted Bliss immortality, but not the ability to contact you. She can remember your love, feel the pain of its loss, but she has no power and no means to leave the mortal realm or contact you. I suspect Aphrodite’s hand in that.”

  That knowledge did nothing to quell the ache inside Eros, but what could he do? He had deceived Aphrodite and was lucky they’d all lived to see another day if she did indeed know of it. He drew in and released a shaky breath. “Bliss still lives. She’s lived all this time.” Eros raised his gaze and found Erato watching him. “What else? Surely there is more judging by the look on your face.”

  “I just wonder if you are curious as to the fate of your love.”

  “You told me. Bliss is—“

  “Not Bliss. Psyche.”

  “I thought it was Psyche in my foolishness, but the woman I loved was Bliss.” Eros shook his head. “I should have known. That twit Psyche could barely utter a word without looking as if she’d faint at having to speak. It was Bliss who stood up to me. She who came bravely to me, unknown, unseen, even when she feared I was a monster. So brave. So smart. So sweet. And by Zeus, she loved me. I felt it. I know it to be true. That’s why it hurt so much when I thought she’d betrayed me.”

  “Eros, I’m sure she still loves you. True love doesn’t fade.”

  “No. She’s lived an eternity of hell thanks to me. How could love survive that?” He didn’t dare hope, but he glanced at the book on the ground. “Does it say where she is?”

  Erato nodded. “Yes. At least it says where she was living at the time of its writing.”

  His treacherous heart soared in spite of himself. What if he found her and she didn’t love him anymore after the years of torture she’d endured for him? Then again, what if Erato was right and their love remained?

  “Tell me where.”

  *

  The villa stood high on a hill that overlooked the fishing village below. His love lived in the clouds yet could not bridge the gap that had divided her from him for so long. The tragedy of that rent his heart in two.

  Just like the first time he’d gone to her, his hand trembled. He raised it to ring the bell. The few moments it took the door to open seemed an eternity, and when it did swing wide it was to reveal a servant. He quelled his disappointment. “May I see the mistress of the house, please?”

  The mighty Eros, ringing doorbells and begging favors of a servant. Of course he could have walked right in, but somehow after all his powers and position had done to her already, he decided it best to come to her humble. Nothing more than a man with a broken heart.

  “Who may I say is calling?”

  He stumbled for a name. The gods had long ago lost favor with mortals. Would this woman even know him if he used his name? How did mortals of this age address each other? He combed his memory and tried to concentrate over the sound of his pulse pounding in his ear. “Mr. Eros. Tell her I am a very, very old friend of hers from long ago.”

  A look of doubt crossed the servant’s face before she hid it. He realized his error too late. His appearance wasn’t one of a man who could be an old friend from long ago, but perception of time was relative, wasn’t it? Perhaps only five or ten years was a long time to a mortal.

  As he was left alone in the hall to wait, he wondered. How long had Hera made them jump through hoops before she granted Bliss immortality? What would Bliss look like now? Was she the same? Older?

  They’d spent so much time together in complete darkness, he could still hear the sound of her voice, the timbre of her laugh, the tone of her cries as he loved her, but her face nearly eluded him. He had to draw forth the memory of her standing in his hall, frightened and angry at the same time as she challenged him. She was just as beautiful as her sister. How could he have failed to realize that until now?

  What had happened to Psyche? He realized Erato had never told him. She was as much a victim of his whims and foolishness as Bliss. The third sister had died because of him. So many affected, all because he’d thought he’d fallen in love at first sight.

  Perhaps he had nicked his hand on his own arrows. That would ease his guilt at least.

  Eros rarely felt guilty over any of his actions. The emotion was new to him, but that didn’t make it sit less heavily in his gut. He didn’t have long to ponder the unpleasantness of the feeling when the click of fast footsteps sounded in the hall. Then she was there before him, standing just across the foyer.

  “Bliss.” Eros found it hard to speak ev
en that single word.

  Laughing and crying at the same time, she took a step forward. She was as beautiful as ever. The only change was her modern attire. “You’re here.”

  He dared to open himself up to the full assault of her emotions and had to fight the tears himself at what he felt. “You still love me.”

  She shook her head and laughed again. “You still have your gift I see and yes, I still love you. I never stopped.” Her gaze dropped to the floor. She drew in a deep breath and then looked at him again. “I have a lot, as you can see, but I still don’t have your ability.”

  His final fear allayed, Eros crossed the distance between them. “You don’t need it because I will never let you wonder again how I feel. I love you. I have since that first night when you called me perfectly average.”

  “You loved Psyche.” Her softly spoken words were filled with resignation.

  “No. I thought I did. But it was really you I fell in love with over those few blissful weeks we had together.” He laughed. “Blissful. I guess I should have known it was you, shouldn’t I?”

  Bliss didn’t share his amusement. Instead she said, “Psyche is gone, you know.”

  “Gone?” Eros was confused at her use of the word. What exactly did that mean?

  “She joined the followers of Hera. She lived a full life among them and died of old age. I think she was happy. I’m sad to say I felt too guilty to visit her after she began to age and I didn’t.” Bliss’s gaze again broke away from his.

  “Shh. This was all my fault. Everything that went awry was my fault.”

  Bliss shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. How did you find me?”

  “Your servant wrote it all down before she died.”

  Bliss smiled sadly. “Hagne. She was always loyal. She stayed with Psyche. Hagne loved her so.”

  “Yes. She wrote that.” He shook his head. “They had each other and you had no one.”

  She shrugged. “I filled my time trying to do good for the people of the village.”

  “Living like a hermit.”

  “I couldn’t exactly be a public figure since I don’t age. Every few years I replace all my servants. Every century or so I’d pretend to leave everything to my granddaughter who would take over the property and my foundations in my place.”

  It had been a tough life for her. “I want to say I’m sorry, but I’m not. I'd thank Hera personally for making you immortal, though I’d like to throttle her for not telling me you were here. But you are here, and now so am I.”

  “Yes, you are.” Bliss watched him and he felt the hope and doubt radiate off her.

  “Live with me. Be my wife. Or forget that. I’ll live with you here. I don’t care, as long as we’re together. I love you, Bliss.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she smiled. “You don’t know how many times I prayed when we were together that you’d say those words with my name instead of my sister’s.”

  “I was a fool.”

  “No. I deceived you.”

  “I forced you to.” Eros shook his head. “Enough. Too much time has been wasted already.”

  “Yes. It has.”

  He drew her closer and nearly cried again at how good she felt in his arms. Fingering the string of jewels around her neck, he recognized them as ones he’d given her so many years ago. She still wore his gifts. The time melted away until they might as well have been back in his bedchamber. His body reacted both to the memory and her closeness. “Bliss. I’m trying very hard not to rip these clothes off you and make love to you right here in the hall. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

  “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that.” She laughed and this time it was a happy sound. “If you keep calling me Bliss, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, any where you’d like.”

  He tangled one hand in her hair and pulled her face close to his. Before his mouth claimed hers he made things perfectly clear. “You’ll never have to wait for me ever again.”

  Her lips curved into a smile. “Good.”

  Then there were no more words.

  About the Author:

  Cat Johnson writes contemporary romance in genres including western, military, romantic comedy, multiple partner and a tiny bit of naughty Greek god fantasy.

  She is known for her creative research and marketing techniques. Consequently some of her closest friends and book consultants wear combat or cowboy boots for a living and she owns an entire collection of camouflage and western footwear for book signings. She’s also sponsored real live, pro bull riding cowboys. Cat is the author of both full-length novels and shorter romances and is currently contracted with Kensington and Samhain.

  For more visit CatJohnson.net

  Also by Cat Johnson

  The Oklahoma Nights Series from Kensington

  One Night with a Cowboy

  Two Times as Hot

  Three Weeks with a Bull Rider

  "Fish Out of Water" in He's the One (anthology)

  "Two for the Road" in The Cowboy's Bed (anthology)

  The Studs in Spurs Series from Samhain

  Unridden

  Bucked

  Ride

  Hooked

  Flanked

  Rough Stock

  The Red, Hot & Blue Series from Samhain

  Trey

  Jack

  Jimmy

  Red Blooded (compilation)

  BB Dalton

  Jared

  Cole

  Bobby

  A Few Good Men

  Model Soldier

  A Prince Among Men

  Smalltown Heat (compilation)

  The Trilogy Collection

  Opposites Attract

  Nice & Naughty

  Just Desserts

  Educating Ansley

  The EX-Files

  New Orleans

  Gillian's Island

  Beneath the Surface

  A Cowboy for Christmas

  Valentine Cowboys

  Texas Two-Step

  Texas Two-Step: Cowboy Shuffle

  He Came Upon a Midnight Clear

  Private Lies