Kyra did not waste a moment. She wedged her toes firmly into the ground and pushed with all the strength she possessed. The door did not budge. Frustrated and panting in exhaustion, she stepped away and faced the queen. “Is there no other secret lever as the one you used to trigger the stone?”
Dusting her hands, she shook her head. “This golden doorway is much like the heart of man, and protected likewise. A spell, strong and potent, gifted by the Gods themselves, holds it sealed. And like the heart of man, always overcome with mundane worries and lack of hope. He believes in only what is before his eyes.” She smiled slightly. “Much like your heart at present, Kyra. You seek answers, but your heart remains closed. Free yourself of your reservations and simply believe. Now push.”
Kyra frowned but returned to the impossible task. The queen did not dither in her duty. “Come, Kyra. The spell will not allow us in unless you clear your heart and mind. Believe that it can be done and it will be.”
Kyra pondered a moment. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Heeding the advice made her feel foolish, but she longed to see for herself what remained beyond these magnificent doors. She allowed all her reservations, her misgivings, to fall away and focused only on the door before her. She wanted it open, and it would open for her. Her hands fell flat on the surface. It parted. What had been impossible to budge a moment ago now shifted and opened with ease. But Kyra did not ponder this wondrous feat for long. The brightness beyond the threshold held her spellbound.
The first step she took into the massive chamber made her gasp in awe. There were massive statues all around her. Everything, the statues, the flooring, the walls, and wide steps were all encased in gold. But this was not what amazed her. What puzzled her was the light. The entire chamber lay bright and well lit. Nowhere could she spot a torch or fire.
The queen laughed, the sound hollow and stifled in the dense room. “You wonder how we are bathed in glorious light even though we are undeniably far below the level of the ground?” She pointed up.
Kyra gasped. Towering impossibly high above her were massive, impressive sculptures, etched in stone but plated in gold. There were four individual pieces. They were of men, with heads bowed and their arms enfolded over the shoulders of the one next to him. Together they formed a circle, a band, and through the large gap left open at the center of their bowed heads lay the sky. The stars and moon shone down, reflecting off precisely placed fixtures, and lit the entire chamber. Her voice left her breathlessly. “The holy temples.”
Vasiliki Akantha stood beside her. “Indeed it is. And all through history the dreaded Cronus has not once succeeded in gaining entrance here.” Her voice filled with pride as she continued, “This temple is based far below the ground, yet it stretches from the very center of the palace, reaching for the skies. None can access this holy place from above, except the winged creatures and the Gods themselves. Everyday throngs of people walk right around this temple while traversing through the palace, but no one realizes—only the king and the protectors of our city, the Gladiators of Andromeda.”
Kyra looked around the chamber. The golden figure of a woman, hand raised valiantly, stood towering high above her. The queen whispered, “In honor of Nikē, the Goddess of victory.”
Kyra’s eyes strayed to the neighboring figure, golden but shrouded in darkness, nestled in a shadowed corner. All the other statues stood bathed in light except this. The queen smiled. “Ah. Our beloved Nyx, Goddess of night. She would prefer the darkness, would she not?”
Next Kyra’s eyes fell upon a statue that differed as well. It was bathed in light like the others, but this statue seemed oddly constructed. The malformation lay in the well carved out formation of a multitude of breasts, instead of just a pair. They were all heavy with milk and proudly displayed. Kyra did not need an explanation. This must be Artemis, the Goddess of fertility. Her eyes drifted to the feet of the statue. Upon the floor, placed reverently at the feet, lay the only thing in the temple not of gold. It was an offering. A ripe pomegranate, the fruit of fertility. Kyra knew well who had placed such an offering.
The sudden haste at her side proved her right. “Come, we must make haste before the moon changes it course and this place is shrouded in darkness.” She yanked Kyra unceremoniously away from the sight of the offering upon the floor.
Kyra guarded her tongue and followed. The older woman stopped suddenly and faced the wall. Kyra studied it. The surface was smooth, shimmering, glossy marble, engraved in gold. There were numerous etchings and designs upon it, glorious nymphs and nubile maidens, Acanthus leaves and olive branches. Each figure had been painstakingly carved with great detail into the marble surface and intricately filled with molten gold. She tried to read the markings but could not decipher anything.
Vasiliki Akantha ran her hands reverently over the embossing and pointed to a specific drawing. “Here. This is the one that pertains to you specifically.”
Kyra leaned forward to study the engraving closely. Her eyes widened suddenly before squeezing tightly shut. She did not wish to look upon this.
The queen prodded her from the side. “What is this? Come now, Kyra. Knowledge is not sought with sealed eyes, closed ears, and clenched lips. Open your eyes and see the truth. Listen to the tale and ask for clarity so you may bring wisdom to your mind.”
Kyra kept her eyes adamantly closed. The queen tittered mockingly. “I had thought you daring and strong. It is not often that I am wrong, but alas, the occasion does arise when I am just that—wrong.”
Kyra’s eyes sprung open. “I am neither a coward nor a weakling.” She turned her gaze to the drawing upon the wall.
She stared at the drawing. The snake lay entwined around a woman, in close-binding folds. The tail was wrapped around her slender ankles, securing her firmly. The thick body twisted around and around her, scaly and cold in appearance. The neck stretched far above her while the head was angled down toward her. The jaws were open, gaping and menacingly wide, above her, displaying magnificent fangs. The eyes held her mesmerized. While all the other features of the snake were lethal, possessive, and brutally terrifying—cold—the eyes gazed down tenderly, protectively and warm—lovingly. While great attention had been given to each scale, smooth and glossy, more detail was poured by the artist into the eyes. The snake’s eyes stared down, full of life, longing, and love.
Kyra forced her eyes away from the disturbing and somewhat-confusing sight and concentrated on the woman. She was full-bodied, carved with delicate detail. Her breasts were thrust up proudly, her nipples protruded, aroused. Her nether frontal parts and buttocks were obscured from sight with the looping snake entwined around them. Kyra’s breath caught in her chest as she studied the face of the woman. Her face showed not fear as she expected—no stretched features of wide eyes and screaming mouth. There was no terror, no abhorrence. What she saw frightened her. It was something she herself had experienced. The woman’s eyes were half closed, her mouth lax. Her face was filled with pleasure, bliss, riddled to overflowing with passion. Kyra kept her eyes trained on the woman’s features as a single word forced its way through her suddenly dry, parched lips. “Explain.”
The queen sighed. “This is the engraving of many centuries past. It is the evidence of the past. This drawing is of Erpo, the snake. Each gladiator has his own place upon the wall, depicting one thing—his marking of his mate. While you found the act Eris applied upon your person barbaric, it is actually within his nature. It is the very beast within him.” She reached out and tenderly ran her hand over the body of the snake. “The snake chooses its mate and marks it. Eris had no power over his beast, Kyra. He was, in that instance, as powerless as you. The snake was, in that instance, master over you—and over Eris.”
Kyra whispered, “You speak of the snake, but what of the man? What harbors he within the tight confines of his heart?”
The queen whispered back, “That is something only the mate can decipher or influence. You, Kyra.”
Chap
ter 4:
SAGA Te’sseris
Eris watched the beauty lying in the bed. Indeed her name suited her well. She radiated and glowed just like the sun. Her lashes fanned thickly against her cheeks, which blossomed into healthy red patches like sun-ripened peaches. Her skin was creamy and smooth. His fingers jerked with the need to touch her, to test her softness. But he held still. Cautiously he leaned over her, breathing deeply of the scent upon her lips. It was fresh and sweet, giving evidence of the sweetness of her dreams that might have possessed her this past night. His sleep, not for the first time, had been ravaged by lusty dreams and unholy yearning, leading him into yet another day with a foul temper, pounding head and heavy scrotum. He envied this innocent female whose dreams were unplagued by the torments of the past she remembered not, undeterred by the sexual stirrings that assaulted his body and mind nightly. Their breaths mingled as his shaft jerked eagerly. Were it any other, he would have plunged his heavy, rock-hard tool right into her softness. But this was not just anyone. This was the plague upon his very existence. This was Kyra.
Kyra came awake with a startled gasp. Eris grinned in amusement. Somehow, within the deep unconsciousness of sleep, she had detected the presence of another. He knew the moment she had experienced the niggling feeling at the nape of her neck. She had stirred against her pillow, restless. Her eyes sprang open just as Eris cupped his hand gently over her mouth, sealing in her scream effectively. Kyra stared at him with eyes wide in surprise. As he lowered his body, pressing her deeply into the soft kline, the look on her face quickly turned to annoyance. As she struggled beneath him, her body imprisoned by his hard, unrelenting length, he rejoiced in the undeniable stab of his arousal. It grew and hardened with each forced abrasion against her soft belly.
She arched an eyebrow and smirked at his obvious discomfort.
“Cease, you wretched witch.”
Of course that was too much to ask for. She ever so slowly and ever so purposefully ignored his command. With yet another enticing thrust up with her hips, Eris growled. The strength of her motion beneath him changed and grew, attesting to her own awakening. Her thrusts became more forceful, aggressive, threatening to unseat him completely in its fierceness. Eris released her mouth and grabbed both her hands while he forced his midsection down hard. He burrowed his throbbing shaft within the heated juncture at her thighs. The sheets, sleek and slippery in their silky texture, dragged down under their wriggling motions and pooled around her waist, baring her breasts. Eris grunted his satisfaction. She was just as exquisite in the morning light as she was bathed in candlelight. Her body lay trapped snuggly. But most satisfying was the knowledge. She sleeps in the nude! He growled as he felt the urge to surrender to the bidding of his aching lance, to bury himself deep within her sheath.
He hissed instead, “I have come to exact my revenge for your little tirade yesterday. Did you think to run from me forever?”
Kyra shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Was I a cowardly person, trembling with fear and trepidation, I would have found accommodations more difficult for you to find than my very own bed. And as to the tirade yesterday, that was the exacting of my revenge for your aggression upon my body. We are now even.”
Eris stared at the feisty female beneath him. This was not at all the reaction he had expected when he’d snuck into her chamber. It was not the reaction he had expected as he’d watched her face, through the curtains surrounding her bed, limp and innocent, dragged fully in blissful sleep. But she was not asleep anymore. She was awake and spitting like a little female cobra. Eris conceded her this round with reluctance and a good measure of unwelcome admiration. Kyra was not frightened easily. Even now, as she lay trapped beneath him, clearly at a disadvantage, she fought back with the same vigor and proud determination he had come to respect in able-bodied adversaries he had met in the battlefield. “I will accept that. However, be warned, female, I will not be so forgiving should you find the urge to repeat such an action.”
Kyra smiled indulgently. “Just as I shall be forgiving and remind you I shall tolerate no repeat of aggressive male domination over my person.”
“It was never my intent to harm you.”
Eris scowled as she remained silent. He enjoyed the plying of argument and debate with a well-versed tongue as much as the next man, but right now this verbal sparring was the last thing on his mind. His body had begun to strum once again as he felt the moisture between her thighs dampen the sheet and greet the tip of his shaft in welcome. The welcome could not go unheeded. “Were you to ply that wicked tongue of yours to something more pleasurable than the spitting of heated words, a man would find it irresistible to take a taste of your wares.”
The pupils of Kyra’s eyes darkened. She whispered, “Were it a man in my bed rather than a beast, I would be tempted to accept the challenge.”
Eris drew back slightly at her insult, but he did not release her completely. He stared into her heated eyes. “I would think a woman of your obvious indulgent cravings would moisten quickly with longing for a man with the appetites and stamina of a beast.
Kyra narrowed her eyes. “And I would think there are women aplenty to slake the thirst of your beast. I have tasted and am quite appeased at present.”
Cocking his head to the side, he smiled coyly. “Lies drip from your tongue, pungent and heavy, as freely as the truth drips from your nether lips.”
She nodded, much to the surprise of Eris. “I admit your tool still has the power to elicit the tender trembling of my inner muscles. Do not mistake my words. I say not that I shall not taste of your mighty lance ever again. I say simply, when I am ready for you, gladiator, you will come to me.”
Releasing her hand, he trailed his fingers across her red, plump lips. “Such confidence uttered of these ripe lips. Be warned, Kyra, the cock of an eager man waits not on the plying of a woman’s devious machinations. Stretch a man no further than you are willing to bear the consequences for. When it pleases me, I shall simply take my pleasures of you, and I shall prove your foolish assumptions wrong. You will not deny me again. You will be unable to, my kallos, my beauty.”
Kyra held her breath and kept her eyes forcefully open as he lowered his head. He took his time, allowing the full extent of his intention of show clearly in his passionate green eyes. The message was clear. One taste would not be enough.
The first touch of her taste on his lips sent a thrill through his body, igniting the lusty throb of his erection. Her bosom throbbed with urgency as he forced her to lie still under the assault of his teeth and tongue. He swept his tongue across her lips, testing and tasting the sweet tenderness. He stroked her lips patiently, caressing them from corner to corner. The teeth nibbled liberally, soft, gentle nips. He waited and acted patiently for what he wanted. Finally she reacted.
Her lips parted, allowing his searching tongue access. He plunged in without hesitation. The taste within her mouth exploded upon his tongue, rich nectar and golden honey, sweet and spicy. His tongue stroked her tongue gently at first, urging her to the next height of arousal. The moment her tongue caressed his own, he acted. His tongue swept in deeply, tasting the darkest crevices and most secret corners of her mouth. Her tongue came up fencing, dueling for equal pleasure. Eris murmured in response, “Limit your tongue to this art and we shall have endless hours of passion.”
It was the wrong thing to say. Eris felt the unmistakable sting of the tip of a blade. The point pressed in, stretching the taut skin just above his still-healing wound from the boy’s attack in the arena.
Kyra’s voice was left breathless, but her tone was deadly. “And I shall ply it at my bidding. Now I believe I have had enough sampling and allowed you sufficient liberties. Release me, or I shall plunge this blade straight into your gut. And be warned, my strength is not as weak as that of a boy.”
Eris drew back but refused to release her. It was not an easy feat adjusting from one volatile situation of heightened sexual awareness to another brutal position of harm
ful bodily intent. This woman seemed to constantly test his patience.
His reaction came without thought—the path to irk her. Pressing his still-stiff lance hard against her softness, he gritted out, “And you said you were asleep in your own bed due to your bravery and lack of fear of me. Pray tell, what do you with a blade beneath your pillow?”
Kyra smirked. “I said I was unafraid, not foolish. And trusting you would be foolish. Now remove yourself before I am forced to use this weapon.”
Eris did not budge. He grinned mischievously as he felt the sharp tip press in harder, breaking neatly through the surface of his skin. “Have your previous acts of lovemaking not taught you a lesson, dear Kyra? There is need for only one lance in your bed.”
Kyra applied more pressure on the weapon, widening and deepening the wound. “Then shall we have a contest right now between the two to judge the victor?”
Eris laughed boisterously at her daring as he drew fully away. The sudden movement was made without the removal of the blade. It came away, after slicing a notable gash in his middle. He ignored the wet stickiness that dampened his tunic and watched in amusement as she in turn stared first at the blood-stained weapon she held in her equally tainted hand, then at the wound she had unintentionally delivered. His voice held humor but contained an unmistakable promise for retribution. “That would be the second blow you have delivered me. While our earlier acts were pardoned, we have now returned to an uneven status. I look forward to my redemption for this.”
* * * *
Eris’s attention turned once again to the entrance of the palace impatiently. The courtyard was brimming with activity. The meat upon his platter had long since grown cold and unappetizing. The queen had assured him that Kyra would make an appearance. From the look of things, she had not promised a timely appearance. Eris had a strong urge to go in and fetch her, kicking and screaming, if need be. But before he could successfully leave the airy outdoors, he was stopped on the threshold of the great doors.
Tangles and Temptation Page 8
