Pain flashed across her features, tightening them.
Before she could inquire further, he had questions, too. “Why did you set fire to our chamber? You knew the rules.”
She raised her chin defiantly. “I set no fire. ’Twas a mischievous automaton bird that spewed the flames which engulfed our chamber.”
“What?” He slanted forward, tossing his head. “Where would such a bird from come from?”
“Does it matter? The raven is long gone and its mission successful.”
“Raven?” His ears perked. The raven was sacred to Apollo. The sun god was responsible. “Why then did you wield a blade against me?” Despite the fact her sisters had provided the weapon, he had to know why she’d accepted it.
“Did I?” Psyche narrowed her green eyes, tapping her foot. “My sisters, in their jealous and wicked weaknesses, bestowed me a knife and told me you were a monster I must kill. That the Oracle had declared it so.” Her voice softened, those sweet lips parting as she murmured, “I could not, so I flung the blade out the window. It landed in the new-fallen snow.”
“Then how did it—”
“The raven.” She shrugged. “Mayhap the wind. Does it matter? I used it to fend off the bird.” She lowered the sleeves of her cloak, flashing her forearms before him. “I have the scars to prove my story, not that it matters. None would accept such a wild tale.”
Eros winced at the long, edged marks on her flesh. “Indeed, none would.” He flashed his gaze to hers. “Except I. Let me heal you, Psyche.”
Instead of permitting him, she tugged her sleeves down over her wounds.
Right. He hadn’t yet earned back her trust. Aphrodite’s tale regarding the priestess of Apollo flashed in his memory. It was not such a stretch to fathom Apollo had sent the raven to drive a wedge between Eros and Psyche.
Even, to cause her death. What Apollo hadn’t counted on was the fortitude of love.
Something else she said tugged at his mind. “What Oracle?”
“The Pythia, why?”
“Ah, damn.” He scraped a hand across his chin. “That’s Apollo’s sacred Oracle.” Further proof. The mention of her sisters also reminded him of their gruesome deaths. “Your sisters came to visit me, to try to convince me of your impiety. I’m afraid I must inform you, they perished from their hubris.” He scratched his jaw, “Ah, well, the arachnids helped.”
She bowed her head. “I’m not sure I have any tears of grief to shed for them.”
“Good, you shouldn’t. They were spiteful creatures until their last breaths, trying to turn me against you.”
“Why would you believe me? You fled.” She perched her hands on her hips and glared at him.
“I can explain that.” He cleared his throat and withdrew two of his arrows from his quiver. One gold, one lead. “These arrows are enchanted and I employ them in my tasks. The gold one causes insatiable lust, the leaden intense aversion.”
Psyche’s eyes widened in marvel and she pressed forward to inspect them. He closed them in his grasp and snatched them up. “Careful. They are potent.”
She curled her nails into her palms. “Have you ever used them on me?”
“Nay, my sweet Psyche.” He quirked his lips wickedly. “I never had need to.” Emboldened by the light blush across her cheeks, he neared, stroking the tips of his fingers along her arm. Her shuddering inhale flamed his confidence. “You could not see them, but my quiver had spilled and its arrows scattered across the floor. One of them pricked you. I couldn’t determine which one, and didn’t know how to react when you beheld me.”
She snorted. “How convenient.” A lightness crept into the curving of her lips.
He wrapped his hand about her upper arm, urging her closer. “Aye, as likely as a maniacal metallic bird.”
A laugh passed her lips, resonating like heavenly chimes in his ears. “Oh, Arete. I have missed you so.” He crushed her against his chest, caging her in his arms, longing to keep her forever in his embrace. “When you collapsed, I assumed you’d perished. I cannot express my relief to find otherwise.”
She shivered, her limbs shaky, and he detected a wave of yearning coursing through her.
Holy Hades. He cleared his throat. “It was the gilded one, wasn’t it.” The effects still hadn’t worn off.
She gave a terse bob of her head, shuddering. “I think yes.”
This conversation might not be enough to reconcile them, but damn, he was going to bloody try. Bending, he feathered his lips across hers, kissing her for the first time as himself. No false beard, no shadows.
Just Eros and Psyche.
A kiss to reconcile the past and begin a new future.
Together.
***
Psyche trembled at Eros’s kiss, from more than the raw eroticism seeping out of every pore of his body. From more than the bolt of lust caused by the gilded arrow, too. It was the emotions stirring within the deepest parts of her soul that whipped her about, making her dizzy and breathless.
She ached so badly to love him.
In his arms, forgiveness seemed easy. These months of fearing his contempt melted away.
However, Eros had uttered no words of devotion to her. No sweet melodies in her ear crushing her fears. Perhaps, it was for the best that he remained unaware of their child growing within her. Only through unwinding their twisted past could they determine if any future lay before them. If Eros were to love her, she wanted him to love her. Not the mother of his child, whom he would feel obligated to care for.
His affection—and her reciprocation—should never be forced.
True love was what she craved.
She sighed and broke their kiss, pressing him back. Lowering her lashes, she cast her face aside. It was hard to gaze at his beauty and speak the words in her heart. “I am glad you have found me, but Eros, I did not come to this temple for you.”
“Then why did you—”
“She came for me.” Aphrodite’s lilting voice cut into the chamber.
Psyche whirled toward the goddess and bowed.
Eros brushed past her and stalked to his mother, a vibration resounding in his chest. “Don’t do this, Mother.” His hand clenched and unclenched at his side. “Psyche is mine.”
“I’m afraid not, my son.” The goddess sent him a coy wink. “Psyche has always been my devoted servant, and she has pledged herself to me. I have need of her.”
“Like hell you do,” Eros snarled, but Psyche placed a hand on his arm.
“She’s right.” Psyche bent her head in obedience. “I have sworn to serve my goddess, to atone for the weakness in my soul.”
“There.” Aphrodite lifted her chin in victory. “ ’Tis settled. Psyche shall complete for me three tasks, and after which, her soul shall be cleansed.”
“Cleansed?” Eros frowned at her. “From what?”
“I traded places with the chambermaid and intended to kill you. I attempted to murder a god, Eros,” Psyche murmured, sadness in her tone. “I must atone for my hubris.”
“Murder a god?” He scoffed. “Only when you believed me a beast.” He snared her hand and led it to his lips. “If you wish to do penance for your sins against me, love, I can conceive of far better measures of reparation.” He flicked his tongue across the back of her hand, making her quiver with delight.
“That would not absolve me, my Lord.” She bit the inside of her cheek and forced out the words, “This is my destiny. You can either stand by my side, or leave it forever.”
***
Eros glowered at the two females who seemed intent on this irrational path of absolution. He would forgive Psyche everything—he already had—yet they wouldn’t allow him to. What secrets did they keep from him? Why had his mother given him hope, and then stolen Psyche? Her servant, ha! Everything about this was absurd.
“Fine, what quest would you send Psyche on?” He faced his mother, restraining the sarcasm in his tone.
Instead of answering him, Aphrodite snapped he
r fingers.
His vision whipped about him, spinning black for an instant, before he recovered and regarded what appeared to be a barn, filled with every manner of grain.
Odd.
He grimaced at the heaps of mixed seeds and then scanned for Psyche. She was already kneeling at the base of one pile, picking through the grains to sort them.
“This is nonsense.” He crossed his arms and groaned. “You don’t have to do this.”
Psyche tilted her face at him. “Yes, I do.” Dismissing him, she focused once more on her task.
“Ugh, but you will never finish. This is a task for, for…ants!” He thrust his hands into the air, and then raked them through his locks.
Psyche laughed, continuing her task.
His exclamation had given him an idea. “I’ll return shortly.” Fading from the barn, he traversed great lands to the sanctuary called Halcyon, where he sought out a gifted female. There. He crooked his fingers toward the maiden Cassiopeia, who was blessed with the ability to communicate with and control every manner of beast.
He enveloped her in a daze, that she might not be startled or enamored by his presence, and delivered her to the barn. Then he whispered his request in her ear and the dark-haired lass set about at once, beckoning a legion of insects to the task.
Psyche gasped at the other female’s presence and hopped to her feet as the barn filled with wings, legs, and the hum of thousands of insects.
Eros swaggered to Psyche’s side, certain of her praise. “Well?” He cast her a wide grin and flapped his wings. “By dusk, they will have finished the task and you can join me.” Lowering his voice, he purred, “Spend the night with me, Psyche, and let me love you once more.”
***
Psyche sighed. “You have completed the quest, Eros, but what have you learned from it?”
His dark brows bunched. “Learned? It was a fool’s errand, Psyche. Meant for nothing more than to shame you.”
“There is no shame in hard work. Have you forgotten our days in the gardens?” she murmured, those happy memories flooding her mind. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, so she studied the insects instead of Eros. She’d only agreed to these quests for their babe. Though they made little sense to her, she was determined to see them through. If Aphrodite insisted this was the path to cleansing her soul and preparing her for divinity, then she would trust in her goddess. Ah, well, two remained. Mayhap one of those would yield clarity.
As Eros predicted, the fleet of insects finished their task the moment the last rays of the sun retreated. He restored the maiden to wherever he’d plucked her from, and Aphrodite transported them to her temple.
“The quest was for Psyche, my son.” Aphrodite tapped an impatient hand on her thigh. “Pray, do not interfere on the next one. Rest tonight, and tomorrow, you shall attempt your second quest.” The goddess inclined her head, then faded from their view.
Psyche winced at the goddess’s reprimand, but Eros merely chuckled. Heat coursed through her from the glow of his divine presence. Alone in the temple of love with the god of eroticism, she wrung her fingers. She wasn’t certain her heart could withstand a night with him.
Or a lifetime.
“Arete,” his sensuously deep baritone purred behind her.
She quivered and wrapped her hands about her arms, huddling forward. Suddenly, the candles in the temple alighted, casting them in an intense glow. She whirled around to face him.
“Nothing has altered the vows I made when I took you as my bride. If you are cold, let me warm you.” He extended his hand, his blue depths pleading. “If you are hungry, let me feed you.” Tentatively, she clasped his hand and allowed him to draw her nearer. “And if you are afraid, let me soothe you.”
He pressed his cheek to her hair, his chest inflating and deflating deeply. “I ask nothing of you, except this: Let me shelter you, Psyche.”
His words soothed her anxiety and she nodded. The demands he would have made of her had concerned her. He was the god of passions, and she did not compare. How many lovers had he taken? How many moments of rapture had he shared with others?
She knew not his past, or his plans for the future.
The compassion of his embrace comforted her and she relaxed, slipping into an easy restfulness. A yawn crossed her lips and he scooped her into his arms, settling her on his lap. Slowly, her eyes drifted closed, her heart settling into a gentle rhythm that matched the drumming of his in her ears.
Tonight, the god of erotic love asked nothing of her.
Tomorrow, what would her husband demand?
***
Eros cradled Psyche against his chest, watching as she drifted asleep in his arms. His desire for her burned in his veins, yet he forced himself to control it.
He’d never been concerned with suppressing his urges—before Psyche. If he saw a tempting mortal or immortal, he claimed them—much to their intense appreciation. These months without Psyche, he’d experienced no flames of lust, no carnal appetite. He hadn’t fancied anyone he’d come across.
Because none of them had compared to her.
Beholding her again, he realized he’d been wrong. She was far lovelier than the portrait his memory had painted. One glimpse of her flamed an unrelenting inferno of yearning within him. He wanted her, in so many ways he hadn’t known existed.
In fact, he’d invent new positions of lovemaking and devote them all to her.
Tonight, she’d been far better able to control her yearnings than he had. He’d witnessed how hard she’d tempered it, how her heart and her body were not as one.
Therefore, he vowed, he would not claim her until she begged him to.
The stars twinkled and faded overhead, the spinning rays of dawn slowly cutting through them.
A new day. A new quest.
Psyche stirred within his arms, yawning and stretching.
“Morning, Arete. How I have missed these early morning moments with you.”
She twisted and inhaled rapidly as she tipped her face to his. “I fear I shan’t become accustomed to seeing you.”
He clenched his jaw, ignoring the jolt of desire swirling through her. A natural reaction to viewing his face. One he’d dismissed so regularly with every other being he encountered.
With Psyche… For the first time in a very long age, he experienced gratitude for his beauty.
At the same time, sadness.
He longed for her attraction to him, but what if nothing existed beneath it?
Her warm fingers inched toward his jaw, but halted, their tips grazing his flesh ever so slightly. “I am sorry for your scars.”
“Don’t be. I chose not to heal them.”
Her throat vibrated a hum, as though she understood why. “No beard.”
“Nay, not for a god.”
“Right. And wings.” She lowered her hand and shuffled from his lap. “Was every moment between us a lie?” She lifted her lashes to cut her stare into him.
“No, Psyche, none of it—”
Aphrodite’s rosy glow flashed into the chamber, effectively ending their discussion. Damn.
He fisted a hand, but inhaled through his nose and out his mouth, calming his nerves. His mother yet stood between him and his wife. He could risk no action against Aphrodite without losing Psyche. “What is your task for Psyche this day, Mother?”
“Gold.” Her ruby lips curved in excitement. “Those sheep grazing there.” Her slender finger pointed through the window toward the river’s bend and a flock of fluffy gilded beasts. “Their wool is pure gold and I would have her fetch me a tuft.”
Wool? He narrowed his brows, not liking the simplicity of such a task.
“I shall, my Lady.” Psyche scurried out the door before he had a chance to respond.
He simply cast his mother a frown and followed Psyche.
They halted at the edge of the water and gazed across to where the sheep pastured. The beasts appeared ordinary enough, which meant they weren’t.
No
t if his mother had her hands in this.
Psyche hoisted her skirts and dipped one slipper-clad foot into the waters. Suddenly, the herd of sheep halted their grazing and raised their heads, glinting orbs fuming in her direction. The herd charged, innocuous sheep morphing into raging beasts with horns as sharp as spears and viciously fanged teeth.
Hell, sheep didn’t even have fangs. Except apparently, these ones.
As they bolted into the river, Eros launched toward Psyche and snatched her into the air, his wings beating rapidly while the herd shrieked below.
He flew her safely to their side of the river and deposited her after the sheep had ceased their pursuit, resuming their foraging as though they were but innocuous creatures.
Well, now, at least they grasped what the task was.
Bloody impossible.
Psyche shuddered and shook the quivers from her limbs. If not for Eros, those beasts might have killed her. Only his divinely quick reflexes had saved them.
And his wings.
She swallowed thickly as she regarded those fluffy, incredibly silken feathers framing his majestic face. It took everything within her not to succumb to the flames engulfing her at his presence. At the same time, however, understanding seeped through her.
This was why he’d hidden. If she’d glimpsed him from the start, would she have perceived him in the same manner?
Would her heart have strained for his?
Or would she have been consumed by lust and unable to view him as anything else?
Poor Eros. He must have been even lonelier than she.
Shaking herself, she resumed her focus on the task. How would she manage to steal a tuft of wool from such monstrous beings?
“Psyche,” a melodious voice called from within the river.
“Yes?” she answered, stepping again to the river’s edge. Gazing into the crystalline waters, she found herself staring at…a reflection? No, it’s not me.
Another female’s face manifested below, vibrant turquoise eyes and flowing dark locks blurred in the watery depths. “My name is Aedre and I have knowledge which will aid you.” The lovely female’s lower body was comprised not of legs, but a silvery scaled fish tail.
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