Solis: Modern Descendants

by elda lore

  SOLIS

  elda lore

  L.B. Dunbar writing as

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted without written permission from the publisher, except in the case of a reviewer, who may quote brief passages embodied in critical articles or in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  © 2017 Laura M. Dunbar

  Cover Design – Amy Queau, QDesigns

  Edit – Kiezha Ferrell, Librum Artis Editorial Services

  Table of Contents

  Other Works by elda lore

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Veva

  Solis

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Veva

  Solis

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Connect with elda lore

  What’s next…

  Contemporary Romance from L.B. Dunbar

  Author the Author

  Other Work by elda lore

  Hades: Modern Descendants

  Solis: Modern Descendants 2

  Heph: Modern Descendants 3 (2017)

  Triton: Modern Descendants 4 (2017)

  See the descending sun,

  Scatt’ring his beams about him as he sinks,

  And gilding heaven above, and seas beneath,

  With paint no mortal pencil can express.

  - G. M. Hopkins

  VEVA

  “It’s so hot.”

  “He’s hot.” My best friend’s voice dragged as her eyes focused on the opposite side of the pool. Persephone Fields may have a broken heart, but her eyes still worked, and I lowered my sunglasses down the bridge of my nose to take in the view.

  “Mm…mmm…mm…” I muttered, observing the Greek god of a man lounging in the lifeguard chair. Blond, chin-length hair and tan, washboard abs dressed him along with a bright orange swimsuit. An impressive radiating sun tattoo covered his shoulder.

  “Veva, I think he’s looking at you,” Persephone teased, and I instantly covered my eyes. Slouched in the seat, all six feet plus of casualness, he had player written all over him, and I wasn’t interested. I did the playing, and I’d recently been burned. I scanned the pool area to make it appear as if I looked for someone.

  Zeke Cronus owned a sprawling estate in the heart of California’s Central Valley, a place hotter than hell and still as a statue. As an olive grower, his company, Olympic Olive Oil, made him billions, and the wealth of his estate proved it. The Olympic-size pool filled a large portion of his immediate backyard. The striking tile and extreme length reminded me of a Roman bath I’d read about in World History 101. The water was the bluest blue I’d ever seen and the temperature was a slice of heaven compared to the heat.

  More resort feeling than private home, Zeke had many visitors. He wasn’t officially my uncle, but he was practically family, the best friend to my mother, Hera, and Persephone’s mother, Demi. His queens, he called us ladies back in Nebraska, but secretly, or not so secretly, Zeke had a plethora of women, and a multitude of children to prove it. It was the one reason Zeke and my mother never hooked up. As a child, I made up stories that Zeke was my father, but the sibling-like friendship between Zeke and my mother just made the thought creepy.

  My head rotated back in the direction of the lifeguard stand. Ostentatious, the pool was so large it needed a lifeguard. My eyes roamed upward, and despite the shield of my aviators, I was pinned. His gaze froze mine and I shivered in spite of the over one-hundred-degree heat. Quickly turning away, I heard Persephone laugh beside me in her lounge chair.

  “Don’t make it so obvious,” she teased. “Be subtle.”

  Subtle was something I’d never done. While my fun-loving friend had simmered a little after losing her boyfriend Harris Black, she was the epitome of cool. Blonde hair, deep brown eyes, lanky and lean— her appearance would inspire poetry. I, on the other hand, was a hothead. My dull brown hair and curvy figure forced me to have an attitude. Lively, Persephone called me. Short-tempered, my mother corrected. My mother spoke closer to the truth. In anger, I got the vibrant tattoo that wrapped around my thigh and down to my ankle. Varying shades of blue and rich, thick versions of green nearly covered one leg, decorating it with the glorious bird.

  My body was a temple, and I was willing to share, as long as I got satisfaction from those who worshipped at it. That lifeguard looked like a player, and while I knew how to play, I wasn’t tempted. Men like him only know how to break hearts, my mother would warn. She hated men.

  “You’re staring, again,” Persephone laughed while she leaned back and soaked up the blistering Californian sun.

  “I am not,” I snipped. Her head rolled in my direction and I snapped mine toward her. She laughed again. “Okay, fine. It doesn’t hurt to look.”

  “Nope, doesn’t hurt.” Her voice faded. She’d lost someone she loved, and my heart pinched for two reasons: to love someone, to lose someone. I’d never known either emotion, but I didn’t plan to, either. While I was a lover, I didn’t love, so I couldn’t lose. It was that simple.

  “Blue devil?” A deep, rich voice startled me, and I turned to face a tray with two glasses, each filled with a pale, blue-colored liquid.

  “What?” Persephone choked, and I spun back in her direction. Her wide eyes looked as if she’d seen a ghost. Suddenly, her tan face was devoid of color.

  “Persephone?” I swung my legs off the lounger to sit upward and face her. My hand reached for her arm. The man serving drinks dragged a low table closer to us and set down the tray. Helping himself to a seat at the end of my chair, he spoke in that deep tenor again.

  “What did I say?”

  I turned to face him, and lightning strike me, it was the lifeguard.

  “Nothing.” Persephone’s weak voice tried to assure both of us. Her head nodded toward the drink. “What’s that?”

  “It’s called a Blue Devil. It’s basically a fruity drink with overpriced rum.” His laughter followed, booming like someone playing a drum. My chair vibrated with the jolt of his body chuckling.

  “And who are you?” I sneered, wondering how the help was comfortable sitting down with a guest. Zeke had so many servants, and typically I didn’t look down my nose at any of them, but something about the nearness of this one made my skin prickle. The air around him crackled.

  “Did you say Persephone?” Ignoring me, his brows rose and honey-colored eyes opened wide. Mesmerized by the color, I stared. It was the strangest color I’d ever seen. I blinked when he caught me and quickly turned away.

  “Yes, Persephone Fields.” My oldest friend held out her hand and the lifeguard started at the presentation.

  “He’d kill me,” he muttered, and Persephone and my eyes met. Cuckoo, I signaled by swir
ling my finger around my left ear. Turning back in his direction, he caught me, and I slipped my finger into my hair, twirling it tightly around my index. A fake smile pinched my face. A large one graced his.

  “And you are?” He addressed me, and my tongue froze. I hadn’t even sipped the tempting drink, but my mouth grew cold, like I’d sucked a popsicle and brain freeze numbed me.

  “Veva,” Persephone replied, introducing me. “Veva Matron.”

  “Ah, you two are Hera and Demi’s daughters. I’ve heard so much about you.” His face brightened further, and he winked at me. I turned away again. My eyes focused on the magazine under Persephone’s chair. Test your ability to tempt a guy, the headline read. His presence tested me, and anger roiled inside me. There was something about him putting me on edge. The urge to punch him grew under my skin.

  “So, Veva.” He let my name roll over his tongue, emphasizing the Vs in an exaggerated accent. Boys had done this before, but the way he said it vibrated between my legs. I clamped my thighs together by crossing them. I sat up straighter and rested to the side on one hand, peering at him behind my glasses.

  “Veva, meaning ‘life’?” Brilliant. He wasn’t only blond, he was a genius, I mocked internally, but those intense eyes left my tongue icy. My only response was a nod.

  “Can’t you speak?” His smile grew like I was a simpleton and the thought shocked me out of my frozen state.

  “Yes, I can speak, and who are you anyway?” My tone was bitter, sharp and stabbing, although I don’t know why. I was so riled by his nearness, and the arm supporting me shook.

  “Solis. Solis Cronus.”

  SOLIS

  The blonde gasped while the brunette dragged down her sunglasses. Eyes of green and blue swirled in my direction as she glared at me. The world went quiet for an instant then roared back to life with a splash in the pool, a scream in reaction to the water, and the chatter of people lounging around the patio. My father and his extravagance for visitors and house guests, my head rumbled with the thought. He had so many people in his life, and yet never time to give to anyone.

  “Solis.” My name whispered off the rosy lips of the blonde vision before me. My cousin had been right. She was beautiful, and I’d transverse life and death to be with her. But she had been my cousin’s girl, a fact I wasn’t ready to reveal to her. Her softened eyes expressed she recognized my name, but I didn’t wish to discuss my cousin in the presence of mixed company. I didn’t know if I could trust either of them, especially the girl pinning me with those gorgeous eyes.

  “Solis Cronus, Zeke’s son?” Each time I heard it, it was like ripping off a fresh Band-Aid.

  “Yes, in more ways than one.” I caught the sarcasm and swallowed hard. The first time I admitted I was his son, the shock was so great, I thought the woman questioning me at the time would crumble. Her heart crushed as she learned that Zeke Cronus had another child. He only legitimately acknowledged a few, and I was told to be grateful he allowed me to live at his home. His palace, I called this place. It was more than we, my mother and I, ever had before. Before. I shook my head of negative memories and returned the glare of those green-blue eyes with a forced smile on my face. Quit looking at me, I wanted to thunder.

  “He has so many,” Veva muttered, driving home a point I was already too aware of, but her tone softened with the words, and after the sharp snap of her previous snark, a warmth flowed over my skin. The heat of the day burned, as it always did in the Valley, but this warmth soothed me, like a bath after a hard day of training. Velvety soft, it caressed me, careening down my skin, and sparking a jolt of life to an area that needed to stay down in a swimsuit. Arousal in the thin material was never a good thing, unless I pressed up against the barely-there covering of a girl’s bikini. The thought drove me harder and my eyes slipped down to the apex of Veva’s crossed legs.

  “That’s an impressive tattoo.” I spanned the shapely length, struggling to distinguish the design at first. Hundreds of shapes, almost like eyes, stared up at me. The shade of each center, a rich royal blue with a turquoise rim nearly matched her eyes while feathery swirls of dark green and hints of purple feathered down the span of her leg. She slowly uncrossed her thighs; the movement so sensual, I grew harder, if that were even possible. I leaned forward to rest my elbows on my thighs while she stretched out her leg to place her foot on her friend’s chair. Fully exposed, I could see the elaborate details, including those unusual eyes which were actually feathers. An intricate head of bright, royal blue lay on the top of her thigh, emphasizing this was a bird.

  “It’s a peacock,” she stated, her tongue clucking over the second syllable and moisture escaped my straining length. Instantly, my mind wondered what gifts that clicking tongue could offer. Suddenly jealous of a tattoo, my mouth watered at the position of its beak pointing to covered treasure.

  “So, Solis, you live here?” My head jolted upward at the question from Persephone. I’d forgotten again we were not alone. Before I could answer, Veva interjected.

  “Damn, we thought you were the help.” Her voice returned to its previous bite. She sat back on the lounger and swung her legs to cross at the ankles behind me. Her foot brushed my lower back while she adjusted herself, and returned to the casual beauty I’d noticed from across the pool. A spark prickled up my spine at the contact.

  “Lifeguard, right?” I chuckled. “Nah, I just like to sit in the chair. Closer to the sun.” My smile pinched and my face hardened, like it would crack from the pressure. Something had shifted between the girls and their initial star-struck impression of me. I was good-looking, and I knew it, and I didn’t mind using that to my advantage. One of the traits of dear old dad I inherited and appreciated was the fact women were attracted to me, but the novelty of my appearance wore off with these two, while most girls continued to blindly stare with eager anticipation that I might grace them with my presence between their thighs and in their hearts.

  Veva lounged back, returning her glasses to her eyes. Her body language shut me out. I touched her ankle, ready to massage up her shin, but she flinched and kicked out to remove my hand. Despite the kick, a surge of electric energy singed my hand and my reaction was to retreat. What the fuck was that? An unsettling sense that I somehow knew her zipped through me, as if I was familiar with her. Did we have history? I questioned her, but her eyes hid behind the shaded lenses. Her facial expression remained non-responsive, as if she hadn’t felt a thing.

  “Do you work here?” Persephone asked. I noted, despite Veva’s disinterest, she listened.

  “Does anyone work here?” I chuckled, referencing the luxury of my father’s home. An olive oil mogul in America, he lived a life of leisure. He disappeared for long stretches of time which I eventually learned involved two women in Nebraska, a place I’d never been. I hadn’t been anywhere but the slum of our original home and this estate of ecstasy. My father didn’t travel with his multiple children. He simply built a haven to house us.

  “We’re guests as well,” Persephone offered, running slender fingers through her long, blonde hair. I watched the motion and felt the weight of Veva’s eyes on me. I’m not a guest, I’m his son, I wanted to retort, but the words choked me. I was his son. The concept often seemed foreign to me, even after all this time.

  I faced Veva and her head rolled away. The side of her face said: Disinterested, this conversation bores me, but when her hand lazily stroked up her thigh, my body thought differently. My eyes trained on the trail she blazed as her fingers tickled the length of those feathers painting her skin. Her index finger curled and swirled around the head of the bird as if he were real, as if the peacock lay against her leg. My lower region ached. I looked up to find she was taunting me on purpose. She’d lowered her glasses and narrowed eyes glared at me. Sarcasm dripped from her piercing look: Want to pet the bird? Too bad.

  I reached forward and offered each girl one of my specialty drinks. A Blue Devil would cool them off in this heat. I needed to cool down too and I in
stantly thought Letty from the kitchen would offer some quick release. After each girl took their glass with a brief word of gratitude, I stood, dragging the serving tray with me to use as a shield to hide the straining Velcro of my swim shorts.

  “Ladies, it was a pleasure meeting you in person. I’m certain I’ll be seeing you around.” Persephone smiled politely and sat back while she sipped her drink, rosy lips wrapped around her straw. My eyes quickly snapped away and I caught Veva watching me again. She rolled her tongue around the tip of her straw, latched her lips over it and sucked deep, her cheeks caved inward to draw in the sweet liquid. I might have groaned aloud. Her lids lowered, hiding her amusement at my expense. I let the tray slap at my thighs as I shuffled away, my dick so hard it hurt.

  VEVA

  A bath house near the pool was the closest place to rinse and change from a day in the sun. It was also ripe with gossip about Zeke’s lifestyle and those within his home. Persephone and I had only been here a few days. Spring semester at Central Valley ended, and Persephone begged not to return home for the summer. Too many reminders of Harris Black, she told me. Too many painful memories, she told her mother. We were caught between just turning twenty-two and finishing college. As I waited for Persephone behind a bank of lockers, I heard a group of girls.

  “Can you believe he slept with Ionia? She’s such a cow.” A shrill voice scraped down my skin like sharp claws.

  “He’s also been with Letty.” This point driven home with conviction in the tone of a second girl.

  “He’s really making the rounds,” the first added. “He’s such a player.”

  “Well, when you look like sunshine and sin, you can get away with it.” A third voice boomed louder than the other two and a titter of giggles followed. I stopped dressing and stood at attention.

  “And you say this from experience?” The clawing tone returned. The silence that followed confirmed the answer.

  “You didn’t?” screeched the second girl, a hint of awe to her voice. I listened harder, leaning forward in the direction of their chatter.