Destined

by Jessie Harrell

  Plucking a hibiscus flower, I twirled its little stem between my fingers. The soft pink blended into a muted blur as the petals spun as fast as my thoughts. Working with my new information and some pretty solid assumptions, I was narrowing down the list of possible identities.

  I crossed gods off the list — the only one I knew of with wings detested the sight of me. And the feeling had pretty much been mutual. No way my mystery guy was Eros.

  It seemed unlikely that Aris was a demi-god since Alexa had answered my question about whether they could be partly visible: “I don’t know, you’d have to ask one,” she’d said. I didn’t think she’d lie to me, and her answer implied she didn’t know any demi-gods, which would include Aris.

  I abandoned my initial theory that he might be a hero since I’d never heard of a hero who had wings, or could create palaces, or disguise himself.

  Which left nymphs. Wouldn’t it make sense for a nymph to have another nymph in his employ? And I now knew they couldn’t be only partly visible, which explained why he had to hide the rest of himself under a cloud to show his eyes.

  Of course, I could still be falling for a monster, but I didn’t think so. Not anymore. Not after feeling those lips…

  Sinking onto a bench with a sigh, I brushed the flower under my chin. Damn, I wish I knew more about nymphs. Could one be mischievous enough to frighten the gods? Was there some metaphor there that I was missing? Not like the Oracle was known for clarity, but still. I felt like I was so close to something and still missing it.

  And I was also bothered by the fact that I’d never seen Alexa create anything. She had amazing hearing, but I hadn’t noticed any other powers. Was she hiding those too? Or maybe there was some super-nymph that I’d never heard of. Like a nymph prince who was more powerful than the others.

  “Ugh,” I tossed the flower into a manicured hedge and lay back across the bench, folding my arms over my eyes. Now I was inventing nymph royalty. Very productive.

  Chapter 26 - Eros

  Eros and Hermes sat by the river, watching a group of water nymphs splash and frolic. “So they don’t interest you?” Hermes asked, nodding to the girls.

  “Nope.” Eros leaned back and rested on his elbows.

  “Still not gonna undo the arrow then?”

  “Why would I?” Eros asked.

  Hermes looked at the nymphs again and wagged his eyebrows. Eros winced. “Them? They’re nothing.”

  “Guess things are going good then.” Hermes said. “You take my advice and use your arrows on her?”

  “Nah. She deserves better.”

  Hermes shrugged. “Yeah, well, not all of us can score with whatever girl looks our way.”

  Eros barked out a laugh. “Right, like you’ve ever had problems.”

  “I’m just saying.”

  Eros sat back up and stared at the river. “Actually, she can’t see me.”

  “What?” Hermes’s eyebrows shot to the top of his head. “Is she blind or something?”

  Eros brushed his palms together to wipe away some dirt. “No. I just – I can’t take a chance, you know? My mom would…” Eros’s voice trailed off.

  “Kill her,” Hermes filled in. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

  The gods sat in silence for a moment as the nymphs’ light laughter played across the water. Finally, Hermes shook his head. “Man, I can’t believe you’re going the invisible route after what the Oracle told her.”

  Eros looked down at his feet. “I’m not exactly invisible either.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I created a shroud.” He shook his head. “More like a black cloud really, nothing you can touch. It covers everything but my eyes. She can reach through it, but she can’t see through it.”

  Hermes scowled. “That’s just weird.”

  “What?” Eros asked with a shrug.

  “She’s gonna see a black cloud with eyes staring at her and freak.”

  “Well, it’s working, okay?” Eros snapped.

  “Whatever,” Hermes shrugged. “Just don’t blame me when she finally comes to her senses.”

  “Not gonna happen,” Eros said as he hopped to his feet. “I can feel it.”

  Chapter 27 - Psyche

  To my great disappointment, dinner returned to the dining room and Aris was very late. Slumped face down across the bed, I’d started drifting off to sleep when I finally felt his gentle touch across my shoulders.

  My heavy eyelids pulled open. “You’re late.”

  “I had something I had to take care of.” His hands massaged into my shoulders and ran down my shoulder blades. “Trust me, I would’ve much rather been with you.”

  I thought for a moment of rolling over, but his touch was too potent. Moving away from it would have taken more willpower than I was willing to summon. His fingers sank again and again into my flesh, working away the knots created by this past week. And the room filled with the scent of lavender and verbena, relaxing me to the point where I had to work to keep from drooling on the pillow.

  “Was it work?” I asked.

  “Hmm?” His fingertips kneaded my shoulders and neck. I thought for a fleeting moment that if he could make my whole body feel this good, he could touch me wherever he wanted.

  “That you had to take care of? Were you working?”

  “Actually, yes. Sometimes I have a very demanding boss.”

  I didn’t ask any more questions, but filed away his answer to think about later.

  His skilled hands worked down my back, creeping lower toward my hips. Despite having been relaxed, I tensed again as he explored parts of my body no man had ever touched before.

  “Relax, Psyche,” he whispered close to my ear. “You know I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know,” I breathed, “but…”

  A realization clicked into my foggy brain. I really did know he wouldn’t hurt me — ever. With the knowledge firmly in place, my heart brimmed with something I hesitated to label love, but was no less than all-consuming infatuation.

  Rolling over, I wrapped my arm around his neck and I found his lips with my own. My muscles all but melted as his warm mouth sealed over mine. His touch turned from calming to impassioned, seeking out my hips and thighs with searching hands. As he lowered himself to me, his weight melded into my body as if we were shaped for each other.

  He cupped my head in his palm as I searched out his mass of curls, grabbing fistfuls and pulling him nearer. My chest bloomed with emotion, layer after layer flowering with increasing intensity. Contentment, trust, need, passion. My tongue searched him out, trying to drink in the essence of all those emotions flowing like a current between us. And he answered my longing with such desire of his own that I felt like I’d combust under the heat of it.

  His hand had just slipped beneath my one-shoulder strap when he froze. His head snapped up and his eyes seemed locked on the headboard.

  “Damn,” he cursed under his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Something had better be seriously wrong for him to snatch himself away right now.

  “I’ve got to go.” He gave me a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’m sorry. Go to sleep.”

  Yeah right. Like I could go to sleep now? After that? And then like it had my first night, the command to sleep enveloped me and my eyes were powerless to stay open.

  Chapter 28 - Eros

  What an epic disaster he’d made of last night. When he felt Aphrodite calling for him, he’d panicked. He knew she couldn’t see him.

  He knew it.

  And yet he’d freaked out anyway. He couldn’t kick himself hard enough for letting that moment slip through his fingers.

  Worse, he knew he’d be lucky if he weren’t starting over from scratch tonight. He’d been around women enough to know you don’t jilt them one night and share kisses the next. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  As evening drew near, Eros wandered through his Olympus home, too anxious for dark to do anything but pace.

  When he
passed his courtyard, the pleading whispers of a prayer tore him away from his own unrest. He hadn’t planned on receiving prayers that night, but somehow this one had gotten in. A widowed mother called to him. Her broken voice tore at his heart as effectively as cut glass. “Lord Eros, you blessed me once. The love I had with my husband was more than I ever dreamed. Amarus was my everything. My everything.” Her voice caught in her throat as a sob bubbled up and burst from the woman’s lips. Eros froze in place, transfixed by her desperation.

  “But now he’s gone, and my uncle will have me married to another within a week. I know I must. My children need someone to support them. But how can I?” She paused and Eros heard her sniff. “Just make this all right. I need this to be all right.”

  Her prayer was simple enough. She wanted to be able to move on — for her remarriage not to feel like a death sentence.

  Eros stole a glance back at Psyche. She was bathing. Her damp hair floated around her in the tub like a chestnut halo. Her eyes fluttered closed as she sank deeper into the warm embrace of water. He didn’t want to be late returning to her two nights in a row. But he knew with unwavering certainty that Psyche would want him to help. So he figured he’d spare a few minutes before dusk to help ease the pain of someone else’s heartbreak.

  When Eros found her, the widow was sobbing by her hearth. She was folded over it, head resting on her arms as her body shook with grief. Her younger children circled around the room, continuing their play, seemingly unaware of their mother’s anguish. But her older two girls stroked her hair and tried to coax her to take a sip of water.

  Eros stood in the corner, an invisible observer, and his heart ached for the woman. What would he do when he lost Psyche? She was mortal, after all, and someday he would lose her. He couldn’t imagine the lifeless shell that would be left of him when that happened. If he thought he had pined for her before, now that he knew her, felt her, loved her, what would he do when she was gone?

  Without another second’s pause, he pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed. The woman gasped and raised her head, her eyes searching the room frantically. She’d felt the sting. Few ever did, but perhaps the sudden re-injection of love had tipped her off to the source of the unusual sensation.

  Eros stayed invisible and made his exit. Under normal circumstances, he would’ve enjoyed watching the woman’s metamorphosis back to a participant in the land of the living. But his Psyche was waiting.

  * * *

  He lit on the window sill and the bedroom went dark as the fire and candles extinguished. Still, his eyes cut through the night, looking for his precious Psyche. She didn’t bound into his arms. Nor was she waiting on the bed. That would’ve been a welcome alternative.

  In fact, she wasn’t in the room at all. What the…?

  He’d seen her in the palace when she was bathing. That meant she’d be headed to dinner and then back to the room. She had never not been there when he’d arrived. Granted, it’d only been a few days, but her absence that night made Eros’s blood run cold. What if she intended to punish him for leaving her last night?

  Or worse - what if Hermes had been right? What if Psyche thought better of kissing a darkened shape and had freaked?

  He quickly scanned the dining room and kitchen, but Psyche wasn’t there. She wasn’t in the library or bathroom or any of the other myriad rooms in the palace. Alarm swelled in his veins — she wasn’t in the palace!

  And then an even worse thought struck Eros: what if Psyche hadn’t left on her own? Had his mother figured out where he’d been these past few nights? Had she looked for him as he flew out in a panic and he’d led her right to his new palace? If she had, Psyche was gone and there was no way he’d get her back.

  Eros sank onto the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Whether she’d left on her own or not, Psyche was gone. He’d wondered only minutes before what sort of shell would be left of him without her, but he hadn’t imagined he’d find out so soon.

  His face crumpled and he struggled to suck in even tiny gasps of air as pain ripped through him. He wanted to fly off in search of her; to save her from herself or from his mother. But if she’d left on her own, he felt compelled to respect her choice. And if Aphrodite had her … well, Eros hoped she’d left on her own. A moan, more anguished than the widow’s, broke from his throat.

  “Are you okay?”

  Eros’s head jerked up and he turned to see Psyche standing in the doorway.

  Rather than answer, he sped to her and plucked her off her feet in a consuming hug.

  “You’re crushing the flowers,” Psyche complained.

  “Huh?” Eros released her and took a step back.

  “The flowers,” Psyche explained, picking at the smashed bouquet to revive the blooms. “Since you’re not here during the day to see them, I thought I’d bring the orchids to you.” She offered him the tiny white and purple blossoms. “But I think they might be ruined now.”

  Eros took the delicate stalks and tossed them over his shoulder.

  “Hey,” Psyche started to protest, but Eros drew her back into his embrace, silencing her with a kiss. “Thank you,” he whispered as he rested his forehead against hers.

  “It was nothing.”

  “Not for the orchids. For being here.” He kissed her nose and her eyelids. “For being you.”

  Psyche rolled her eyes and smiled. “It’s not like I have much choice on either one.”

  He wrapped one arm around her shoulders to draw her closer and cradled the back of her head in his other palm. “Don’t ever leave me. Please.”

  Psyche threw her arms around Eros’s neck and laughed. “Is that what this is about? I wasn’t sitting here waiting for you to come in so you thought I’d left?”

  “I don’t know. After I rushed out of here last night …” his voice trailed off. “There were a lot of reactions you could’ve had and most of them were bad.”

  “Yeah, well, you’ve got a demanding boss, right?” She winked. “Besides, I might be starting to like it here.”

  “Do you know how much I love you?” Eros brushed the tip of his nose against Psyche’s and then kissed her again.

  “I’m getting the idea,” she answered, gazing into his dancing blue eyes. She ran her hand up his face and let her fingers trace through the mass of curls she now knew by touch. “Tell me something.”

  Eros’s embrace loosened as he prepared for another round of the “who are you” questions. The ones he couldn’t answer. The ones that drove the only remaining wedge between them.

  “Why is everyone else here invisible, but you’re not?”

  An almost imperceptible sigh of relief escaped Eros’s lips as he realized Psyche wasn’t trying to re-walk a dead-end path.

  “I mean,” she continued, “you obviously don’t want me to see you, so why not just be invisible like everyone else. Why the darkness and the night-only visits?”

  “What makes you think I could be invisible?” he asked.

  Psyche raised her eyebrows and looked around the room. “Umm … because you made everything here. I’m guessing invisible is doable for you.”

  Eros beamed at her. “You’re right. I could do invisible. But I want you to see me. I want more than anything to be with you in the light.”

  “Then why…”

  He laid his finger across her lips. “And since I can’t do that, this is the next best thing. You can see my eyes, Psyche. Everything you need to know about me you can see in my eyes.”

  She studied them intently. “I can live with that.”

  Eros picked her up and spun her around. “I knew there was a reason I love you so much.”

  “Oh, wait,” Psyche said, making Eros stop. “That reminds me. I’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

  Eros’s heart thundered in his chest. Was she going to tell him the one thing that would make him happy forever? “Yes?” he asked, the word barely escaping his lips.

  “Thank you.”

&nbs
p; Eros’s heart sank, but he tried to smile. Her love would come, he assured himself. “For what?”

  “For loving me enough to save me,” she whispered.

  “It has truly been my pleasure.”

  Chapter 29 - Psyche

  By the time I fell out of bed the next “morning,” the staff had already moved on to serving lunch. After grabbing a tuna pita, I met Alexa in the gardens. We were sprawled across the lawn and she was telling me about the time brother number seventeen hid a dead fish in sister twelve’s dresser, when I heard wailing from far in the distance.