Ambrosia Lane 1-3: Saranna DeWylde

by Desperate Housewives of Olympus

  “Just thinking about last night, Morgan, I wanted to do it all over again.” He grimaced.

  “Stings, does it?” She closed the distance between them; sure of herself now that he’d admitted he wanted her again.

  He grabbed her and jerked her against his hard chest. “Witch, you won’t be smirking like the cat in the cream when you’re screaming my name again.”

  “What’s that about cream and cats?” she purred, flicking her tongue against the edge of his lip.

  “You’re going to kill me, Morgan, but I’ll die happy.”

  She laughed. “We need to take a swim at the resort, lover. There’s a certain type of seaweed that only grows near Avalon. I can make a healing tincture that will stand up to any and all activity.”

  He studied her for a moment and a serious expression clouded his face.

  “None of that,” Morgan spun away from him. “No excuses, no regrets. If you don’t want to be here, just say so. Otherwise, let’s just enjoy each other until it’s over.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said quietly.

  “Lance,” she began as she headed out the door barefooted, “you’d have to have my permission to hurt me and I don’t give it. So none of that knight in shining bullshit, okay? I’m an Evil Enchantress, remember?”

  “You are definitely an enchantress, but there’s not an evil bone in your delectable body.” He followed her down to the beach.

  “Up until yesterday, you were convinced I was the devil incarnate.”

  “No, I wasn’t. I was just angry you made my dick hard.”

  She laughed again, feeling incredibly stupid that his words made her so happy. His wasn’t the first dick she’d made hard and she doubted it would be the last. It was just a stupid, although sometimes delightful, biological function.

  “Hmm, if you’re still angry it sounds like I could be in for some good grudge sex.” She jogged out in front of him on the wooden walk. “Maybe the marauding knight needs to pillage the maiden fair. If he can catch her.”

  “Would you like that, Morgan? You want me to bend you to my will?” He arched a brow.

  “If you think you’re man enough.”

  “Right now, I’d love to say I am, but I’m just talking shit until you mix up some of that tincture.”

  “I like a man who knows his own limits. And honestly, me too. It hurts to walk.”

  His chest puffed up like an inflated blowfish at her confession. “I made that.”

  “Yeah, you did.” The look of pride on his face was one she hadn’t seen for a long time. It pleased her to know she’d put it there.

  “One more serious question and I promise, I’ll let it go.”

  “We already let it go back in the living room, Lance.”

  “Come on. Just one.” He grabbed her hand, his fingers warm and strong around her palm.

  “What’ll you give me for it?” She cast him a sly look from the corner of her eye.

  “Anything you want.”

  “You know it’s dangerous to make an open ended deal with a magickal being.”

  “I trust you.”

  “Your mistake.” She didn’t want him to trust her. It would make it all the more painful when this was over.

  “So, it’s a deal?”

  “Fine. But you owe me the goods as stated: anything I want.”

  “So noted.”

  “Your serious, mood killer, downer question was?” she prompted. She knew this was going to be something else she didn’t want to think about, but just as she couldn’t change who she was, she couldn’t change who Lance was either. And she didn’t want to.

  He laughed. “Do you think I should get a room at the inn?”

  “Why?” She put her hands on her hips.

  “Because I don’t have anywhere to live and I don’t want to take advantage of you. I don’t want the Lane gossiping about how I moved right in with you when I left Gwen. Neither of you need that.”

  “Okay, one more time and I’ll use small words so it sinks in. I know I’m the rebound. I know that staying with me isn’t going to be a long term proposition. I didn’t ask it of you. I liked waking up and having you close for easy access. If you don’t want to sleep in the same bed because it’s too intimate, I have a guest bedroom that yours to use even if you don’t want to fuck me. And I don’t give a blue-balled fairy fuck what anyone on the Lane has to say about me or the sainted Guinevere. Is that plain enough for you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He looked a little gobsmacked.

  “Was it too plain? Did sweet little Gwen never say words like fuck?”

  “She said them plenty, but she was never this assertive.”

  “Oh, so maybe instead of the pillaging the innocent maiden game, I should play up the wicked witch aspect a little more? Tie you up?”

  “Morgan,” he rumbled.

  “Yes?” she replied sweetly.

  “I already told you I’d like that.”

  “You did, didn’t you?” she teased. “Maybe I’ll have a pet knight, walk you around on a chain and beat that sweet ass of yours when you disobey me.”

  “That might be a bridge too far.”

  “Too bad. Pet knight isn’t in charge. I am. You can call me Mistress.”

  The palm of his hand connected with her ass and Morgan found she quite liked it. “Too big for your britches, little witch.”

  “You know you like it. Makes your sword all… battle ready.” She laughed again. Morgan realized she hadn’t laughed this much in a long time. Morgan took the opportunity to smack his ass in return and was pleased with the sensation. He had a great ass. “Mm, that’s Mistress Witch to you.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  Morgan found herself flat on her back in the sand, with Lancelot holding her wrists above her head with one hand. She shivered in delight, but then winced as her bits protested. “As romantic as sex on the beach sounds in stories, I don’t want sand up my ass.”

  “Maybe chivalry isn’t dead.” He rolled, taking her with him so that he reversed their positions and she was astride him.

  “Now that’s romance. You’d take the sand up the ass for me.” She leaned down and brushed her lips over his.

  Images of forever started playing in her head like some morbid puppet show. She reminded herself that the ending to this story hadn’t changed.

  “Ready for a swim?” She scrambled off of him and began peeling her dress off to give him a show.

  There was another reason she wanted the seaweed. Not only did it make a fantastic tincture to make the body forget its pain, it could make the heart forget, too.

  Morgan knew she was going to need it.

  14

  APHRODITE

  F or all intents and purposes, Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, had been stood up.

  The night had passed with no Rosa Regale and no hot welsh war god. If he didn’t want to come over, he could’ve just said so. She hadn’t read him wrong. He’d been as attracted to her as she was to him.

  Unless her magick was off, which was possible because… because of Ares. Everything was his fault.

  Her eyes widened. What if Aeron hadn’t been as interested in her as she’d been in him? Aphrodite accepted the fact that not everything with a dick had a hard on for her. She was okay with that, but seeing as how her realm of influence was love and lust, if she chose to inspire those feelings, they should be felt, damn it.

  Then she wondered if something had happened to him, and then hoped that it had. His only excuse for not showing up was that he’d been hit by a bus when he went to the mortal world to get her that bottle of Rosa Regale.

  Yes, that was it. Hit by a bus, and then someone dropped an anvil on his head like in all of those Looney Tunes cartoons.

  Because if he’d stood her up on purpose, she’d drop a mountain on him and his countrymen. His whole pantheon, this whole stupid island…

  Well, she’d let Artemis and Morgan leave first, but the rest of them could go
straight to Tartarus and—Artemis.

  She sent out tendrils of her power to check on the other goddess and discovered things were progressing rapidly. Artemis had spent the night cuddling the bad boy of Avalon.

  Aphrodite snickered. Vivienne’s curse had been triggered, so they must have kissed. She wondered how long it would be before they came knocking on her door asking her to lift it?

  Not until Artemis lost her V-card, that was for sure. That thing had to be gathering dust by now.

  Something else tickled her power. It was Morgan. She planned to thwart Love. For some reason, this didn’t piss her off like Vivienne’s machinations did. Probably because Morgan wasn’t a complete tool.

  It didn’t matter anyway. Morgan could rail against her future all she liked. It was fated. It would happen. It would’ve happened already if not for Guinevere.

  Speaking of Guinevere—by Zeus this island was a hot spot for Love. There were so many hookups and entanglements that Aphrodite had been pinged in the head by her own power twice since she’d been here. Not very relaxing.

  “How was your evening?” Ares said, materializing behind her.

  Aphrodite considered lying and telling him that she’d had the night of her life, but he was far too smug. He was up to something. “First of all, I told you we’re on a break.”

  “It’s a shame, Aphrodite.”

  “What is?” She wandered out onto the deck and slipped her feet into the water.

  He followed. “That you’re out chasing a god who can’t even be bothered to show up when you’ve got me waiting for you. Even when you’re angry with me, I don’t want to be apart from you.”

  “How do you know what Aeron did or did not do?” Her tone was flip. “Unless you were out warmongering together and then you’d be in the same boat he’s in. Maybe you should fuck each other and just leave me out of it?” She flicked her fingers in the water and debated a swim. Or drowning Ares, she hadn’t decided.

  “He stood you up. Isn’t that enough reason not to see him again?”

  “Again, how do you know?” Aphrodite looked up at him. “What did you do?”

  Ares’s face was suddenly the picture of innocence, which they both knew was a rancid lie.

  “I may have told his pantheon if he kept his date with you Olympus and Asgard would smite them.”

  “You what?”

  “Oh, come on, Aphrodite. If one little, insignificant threat was enough to deter him, he’s not god enough for you anyway. I mean, really. Aren’t you used to great deeds for love and all that rot? This is my great deed.” He looked pleased with himself.

  “I didn’t want a great deed, dumbass. I just wanted you to say you love me.”

  “Same thing.” He shrugged.

  “So say it. Say those three words right now and I’ll surrender.”

  He scowled.

  “The answer is still go fuck yourself because you won’t be fucking me.” She eyed him and for the first time, Aphrodite dared to use her power to look into Ares’s heart.

  If he loved her and this was just another of his one-upmanship, she could let this one go and let him speak of his feelings in his own time. Even if that was another millennia.

  She took a deep breath to gird herself for what she’d find.

  Or worse, what she wouldn’t.

  Fearing there was nothing there for her had kept her curiosity at bay—until now. She was tired of the games, tired of the constant contest, just tired. She wanted to be loved wholly and completely.

  After peering inside his heart, she saw the truth.

  He was the embodiment of the worst Meatloaf song ever.

  Ares wanted her.

  Ares needed her.

  But he wasn’t ever going to love her.

  All of the fight drained out of her at the realization, and she was flooded with other emotions. Fury at herself for being so weak and pathetic she hadn’t looked before now. Sadness that this was over. All the dreams she’d ever had of a happily ever after with him were dust and ash. He’d been a key part of her life for eons.

  He knew just where and how to touch her. He made her laugh. He protected her.

  Yet it still came back to the fact that Ares wasn’t in love with her. She was something shiny to be kept on the mantle.

  She took a deep breath and uttered the words that would change her life irrevocably. “Ares, it’s done.”

  “What do you mean, it’s done?” He sneered.

  “Us. This. We’re over.” She died a little, speaking it out loud.

  “For fuck’s sake, Aphrodite. You’re overreacting. This is par for the course for us.” He took her hand.

  “Ares,” she thundered.

  “Oh, I like it when you play rough.”

  “I’m not playing. I mean it. Do you want to know why?”

  “I assume you’re going to tell me whether I wanted you to or not.” He sighed.

  “Because you don’t love me.”

  “Look, just because I’m not big on saying all that sappy shit doesn’t mean—“

  “Ares!” she snapped again.

  “What!”

  “It’s not just about telling me that you love me. You. Don’t. Love. Me.”

  “How do you know that? You’re not me. You don’t know what I feel.”

  “But I do,” she whispered. “Because I looked.” If she hadn’t, Aphrodite might have actually believed that she’d hurt his feelings.

  “You must have your wires crossed, woman, because I do love you, okay? Fine. There. I said it, you wretched harpy. I love you. Are you happy?”

  “No. Because it’s a lie. You just don’t want your pretty toy to leave. You want to get tired of me first.”

  “You have officially lost your mind.” He peered at her like she was some foul stink bug he’d squished under his boot heel.

  “If you just give it a chance, you’ll see. Do you think I want it to be over? You’re the father of my children. Well, most of them.” She bit her lip as tears threatened. “You were my forever, but I’m not yours.”

  “You know what? You’re right. We definitely need a break. I don’t know what maggot has buried itself in your brain, but I can’t deal with you until you dig it out. I gave you what you wanted and you’re still not happy. Have you ever thought that maybe it’s not about whether I love you or not, but if you’re willing to accept my love? I’m not the promises and poetry type. You knew that when we started this. I’ll fill your temple with sacrifices of flesh and blood, that’s more my speed. I don’t think you really love me. You love the idea of me. Turn that power on yourself and see what you find.”

  “Ares—“

  “So you do whatever the hell you want. I’m going back to Olympus. I’ll see you when I see you.”

  He disappeared.

  Or at least she thought he’d disappeared. A heavy gait made the wooden boards creak and she flung a fireball. “I said—“

  “I surrender!” Aeron caught the fireball and doused it in the clear, blue water that lapped at the edge of the dock.

  Aphrodite blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry. That’s twice I’ve smote you.”

  “You definitely have a temper.” He seemed more amused than anything.

  Aphrodite found that irritated her. He should respect her wrath. “You know what? You had that coming anyway for standing me up.”

  “Uh, did you not hear the part about the international incident and taking Avalon to war? Do you think one night with you is worth that?”

  She lifted her chin. “As a matter of fact, I do.” But her lip trembled.

  The corner of his mouth turned up in a lopsided grin. “I do too, that’s why I’m here.”

  To Aphrodite’s absolute horror, she burst into tears. “Oh shit,” she sniffed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what my problem is.” She dashed at her cheeks with the back of her fists, sure she looked like minotaur crap. “That’s not very attractive is it?” Aphrodite sniffed again. “I know you war types aren’t comfortable
with softer emotions.”

  “And why wouldn’t we be?” He sat down next to her and hauled her up into his lap. “War is full of pain and sorrow. Loss.” Aeron stroked her hair. “Love.”

  She turned her face against his neck and resisted the urge to compare him to Ares, or say what the other god of war would have done in this situation.

  He knew what she was thinking anyway. “I told you, Ares is a dick. He’s still very much a godling moving his action figures around on a chess board. He has yet to grasp the gravity of war.”

  His hands were so strong and sure as he held her that Aphrodite found herself leaning into his touch, and even though her heart was still full of Ares, she wanted more of Aeron.

  “This, right now, it’s not really worth taking Avalon to war. I’m sorry. I’ll try to fix it with Ares.”

  He laughed. The sound rumbled low in his chest. “I’m not worried about it. Ares isn’t going to do anything. My friend Morrigan can keep him occupied for the next hundred years or so.”

  Her power soared and she was struck with a vision of the future. It was of a small child with Ares’s black hair toddling after a raven. The raven would stop, wait for the child to get close enough to pounce and then hop just out of reach.

  But the raven wasn’t actually a bird, it was Morrigan.

  She was the child’s mother.

  The goddess meant for Ares.

  The joy of seeding more love in the world bloomed inside of her, it fed her purpose, her raison d’etre, but it was soured by her own sorrow and her own loss. Ares was never meant to be hers.

  It was really, truly, honestly over.

  Aeron’s arms tightened around her. “You saw something didn’t you?”

  Aphrodite choked on her own emotion, she couldn’t speak.

  “That’s all right, cariad. It’s all right.” His voice was lyrical and soft in her ear and he made her believe it really would be okay.

  “It’s just, it’s… I’ve told him it was over so many times, but I never believed it before now. It was never true. He’s always been part of my life. Even when we were children.”