by Lucas, Naomi
He’s not all bad.
He was disparity incarnate, which made it hard for her to pin down an opinion on him. Grave and intense, but calm and passive, frightening and strong but level-headed and controlled. He emanated boundless power.
In the short time they’d spent together, he hadn’t molested her, hadn’t offered her drugs, hadn’t leered or mocked her. He hadn’t threatened her just because she was a woman (at least maliciously) nor tried to bribe her. He’d been the exact opposite of the majority of men she’d encountered.
But how could such a man serve the evilest god in existence?
Despite her confusion, there was one truth she could illicit; she felt a little less crazy around him.
God, she really wanted to see what Cerberus looked like under his helmet.
“We need food and water,” she said, a little too shrilly. “But I’m not hungry or thirsty, I assume it’s this place.”
Cerberus nodded.
Okay.
“We need clothes and toiletries, and light, real light. There’s so little light here. Water for bathing and drinking, oh and probably freedom. Maybe a pistol? A six-pack of Coors Light?” Her nostrils flared. “You know, the basics?”
“Is that all?”
“Yeah, that’s all. Freedom, shelter, sustenance, space, se—” Nope she wasn’t going there.
“Don’t move,” he said, standing up.
“Why?”
The room went dark.
The flurry of her heart turned into a full-blown pound. This wasn’t the type of darkness one normally encountered, this was the absolute absence of light itself. It was heavy. So heavy she bowed under its weight.
Then someone grabbed her arm, steadying her, and she nearly screamed. The light returned. Still muted, but it was back. Cerberus let go of her and stepped away, and a gasp escaped her lips.
The rocky cave-like room had been replaced with sleek obsidian walls, obsidian furniture, and dangerous luxury. There was a table laden with fruits, a large tub with steaming water, mirrors that hung on the wall, and large cushions scattered along the ground. One of Cerberus’s hounds came out from the shadows, yawned, and settled on top of one of the cushions, while another loudly drank the bathwater.
All of it looked like it’d been pulled straight from the darkness itself. All except the golden light streaming from the dozen candles placed about.
The paintings along the walls that made her head hurt, the bed, the chair, and the large terrace were all that remained from before.
Cyane wandered the space, amazed, touching the surfaces as if they’d fade away without her contact. “Is this all for me?”
“Is it enough?”
“I…” She turned to face him. His burning eyes had never left her. His attention was doing things to her, worryingly things. She curled her fingers into the blanket still around her shoulders. “I’ve never had a room before.”
“Never?”
Cyane licked her lips. “We shared rooms at Claudette’s, the place where I grew up, and once I’d been placed into foster care, I shared a room with another foster kid in the same house I was in.” College had been dorms, and now she was here. She shook her head. “But this isn’t really mine, is it? It’s yours?”
“I spend most of my time here watching the realm below. The vantage point is opportune.”
“All alone?”
“I have my companions.” Right then, hundreds of black dogs peered in from around the shadowed edges of the room before pulling back and disappearing.
Cyane’s eyes widened. Where had all those dogs come from? How— She shook her head. She’d seen and experienced so many things she couldn’t explain already, she should know not to question them by now.
“Who is Claudette?” Cerberus asked, curiously.
Cyane turned her face back to him. “A woman who ran a religious school for orphaned girls.”
“Why were you there?”
She suddenly wished she hadn’t said anything. What could she say really to that? “I don’t know,” she whispered honestly. “I wish I knew.”
Silence fell between them, and she shuffled back and forth on her feet as Cerberus continued to stare at her. She hated talking about her life.
Cerberus knew who his parents were, much of the world had at least read about his myth once. He could scream his ancestry to the skies and be grounded by the knowledge he had.
Cyane didn’t have that. She had no family. She could die today and no one would attend her funeral. She’d had friends, but they’d all come and gone, as temporary as a breeze. Nobody had latched to her like family.
Sometimes, she imagined she was a puddle lying on uneven asphalt, and once the sun came out, she’d evaporate. There were no ponds, streams, lakes, or oceans to protect her from the world, to fall into and become apart of. No, she was alone.
She glanced at the lone chair.
“Thank you,” she said eventually. “For the gift.”
It wasn’t actually hers. It wasn’t actually like she needed nor wanted it. At least that’s what she told herself. The room she wished for was always in a home in her head, a real home. This place wasn’t home.
She hoped she wouldn’t be here long enough to call it hers.
Ours. She blushed.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
He strode to her, stopping short of touching her. Cyane’s instinct told her to back away, to put space between them, but she stood her ground. This was different, he wasn’t coming at her with ferocity. Instead, he towered over her. She strained her neck to look up at him.
The only noise in the room was her thundering heart. Please don’t hear it.
“You don’t need to watch me anymore,” she said a little breathlessly. “I won’t run.”
Cerberus tilted his head and reached up between them. His fingers caught a tangled strand of her hair. The light tug was enough to make her skin prickle with goosebumps.
“You swore an oath yesterday, bound yourself in the greatest way. Why?”
“It’s not hard to swear an oath if it’s true.”
“Would you have done it if I hadn’t asked?”
Her brow furrowed. “I’m not sure.”
“Kneel for me.”
The order came as a surprise. “What?” she asked.
He released her hair. “Kneel.”
“W-why?”
“Because I ask for it.”
Cyane fumbled, nearly tripping on the blanket when she realized what he was asking of her. This wasn’t about proving to him that she wasn’t there under false pretext, that she was innocent in any transgressions she might have made—her soul was on the line, was it not? No, this was something else.
But to kneel before him, after all that had happened, after what she was up against?
“Kneel,” he ordered again.
The demand settled and took root inside her. It sprouted and grew, overtaking any fight she might have had.
It felt right.
So right that she wanted to scream and cry for all the women and men who’d fought against this. Those who fought for power themselves, so they could make the choice to subjugate or not.
Cyane unclenched her fingers and let the blanket go. It fell to her feet where it vanished into the floor.
This was about Cerberus and her. No one else. If only she could see his face...
She let her arms drop as she lowered to the ground slowly, her gaze following the sharp outlines of his armor. She settled on her knees. She bowed her head.
The floor was hard, and the wrinkled chiton dress bunched up around her. Cyane rested her hands on her knees and waited for direction. She stared fixedly.
Part of it reminded her of her childhood, of praying against punishment, forced to kneel for hours. But also, this was nothing like that. Cerberus confused her, certainly, but—
Would he hurt her?
The room, the oath, the world itself fell away. The canines, the teeth, the bodies swimmi
ng below the water’s surface, and even rationality she once held close...gone.
She’d never been powerful, never been anything more than small, and she’d never really cared. It wasn’t power she was after—she never wanted it. She left that to the whims of others.
“Lord Hades will be pleased,” he rasped, his voice so low she barely heard it.
Cyane’s eyes snapped up.
He was gone.
And in his place was a white dress draped over a solitary chair.
Disturbed with herself, she licked her dry lips and stared at it.
The Greatest Gift, Stolen
Cyane made her way towards the ballroom much like the day before. She played with the edge of the note she tucked deep in the folds of her dress.
The white dress Cerberus gave her flowed around her legs like water, and like water, one could see her legs through it. It was extraordinarily sheer, showing off the shadows of her curves beneath. It was as lovely as it was uncomfortable to wear. In a public setting, at least.
Like a damned sacrifice…
But it was either wear what Cerberus had given her in hopes of pleasing Hades or continue to wear the wrinkled and ruined dress from before. In the end, she didn’t have a choice. She wasn’t about to go before Hades in rags.
On either side of her was one of Cerberus’s hounds, herding her to their destination. They had appeared after she’d bathed and washed her hair. Their huge, black bodies were a hard contrast to the way she was dressed today. Saliva dripped from their maws, smoke rose with their breaths, and when they showed their teeth…serpentine tongues emerged.
Cyane shivered.
She thought of Cerberus and his hidden face. She’d knelt before him. Had shirked her pride and submitted. She realized with a little bit of horror, she would’ve done so much more if he had asked it of her.
I really am disturbed.
Like I’m some doll to play around with. It made her angry. It worried her.
Cyane sighed.
She’d secretly hoped Cerberus would return while she bathed...if only so she could gauge his reaction.
Heat blossomed on her cheeks. Curiosity threatened to drive her to tear off his helmet. She needed to see him. My body responds to him. She wasn’t exactly in love with her reaction, but it happened nevertheless. The quivers, the annoying constrictions in her sex, the subtly growing need, and worse of all, the stupid flutters in her stomach.
If he tried to kiss her…
What would a kiss from a god be like? Would there be power behind it? Would it destroy her mind and make her a thrall to his desires?
Whether she was attracted to him or attracted to the fantasy of him she conjured, she was bothered either way.
She tried hard to push the thoughts from her mind. They didn’t do her any good.
There’s nothing about me that would make one such as him want me. Not with the beautiful, ethereal, godly women all around. Her heart fell a little.
I wouldn’t survive anyway...
“There you are, sweet Cyane, I have searched the castle high and low for you!” Melinoe appeared out of the passageway’s shadows in front of Cyane as if to solidify her thoughts on the subject.
One of the dogs at her side growled low.
The goddess pushed through the hounds and wrapped Cyane in a hug one-armed hug. “I missed my friend,” Melinoe said.
Cyane went stiff. Melinoe was as beautiful as ever, making Cyane feel even lesser. Images of the goddess and Cerberus dancing rose in her mind like venom.
“You were looking for me?” Cyane asked, feeling played with.
Melinoe cupped Cyane’s face and smiled. It felt like the goddess’s fingers sank through her skin to stroke her brain. “I would always look for my friends. After my sweet Cerberus went after you with his sword, I thought the worst.”
We’re not friends! Cyane forced a smile to her lips. There was something fundamentally wrong about Melinoe. Like oil and water forced to combine.
Which didn’t make any sense, since the goddess had been nothing but kind to her.
Melinoe released Cyane’s cheeks and peered down at her dress. The goddess’s smile widened. “Beautiful. You are beautiful, for a mortal.”
There it was.
“Thank you.”
Melinoe, in a deep black dress that pulled from the shadows, grabbed Cyane’s hand and led her forward. The hounds flanked them both now, although Cyane noticed the bristle of fur upon their backs.
“Wherever you have been, you are here now, and just in time. The procession of gifts is about to begin. If we don’t hurry, we’ll be last.”
‘You’re to meet with Hades,’ Cerberus’s words came back to her.
“Melinoe,” Cyane said, tugging back on the goddess’s hand. “I don’t understand what’s happening or what to expect. I don’t have a gift to give. I don’t want to offend.”
“Mortals have everything they can give. I’m sure you’ll think of something. Hades is most generous to those who have little but offer him what they have. You’ve chosen a dress of a vestal virgin. My lord father will be pleased with the sight of you alone.”
Cyane flinched, disgusted. But she couldn’t dwell on it. Melinoe was already pulling her again down the candlelit corridor.
“When I go before my lord father as a maiden virgin, he always looks upon me for a moment,” Melinoe continued.
“But you’re not dressed as one now.”
“I want him to view me as a woman.”
Um… “Why?”
Melinoe peered back at her with a twinkle in her eye. “There are two paths for a goddess—to follow the virgin queens of Artemis and Athena, or to join the flesh worshippers of Aphrodite.”
“And Hades?”
“I want him to look upon me for more than a moment.”
Cyane’s internal flinching took a turn for the worse. But before she could ask more of Melinoe, the corridor opened up to its grand obsidian star-shaped foyer that led to the ballroom—the sound of lutes and whispers filled her ears.
Melinoe laughed and giggled, pulling Cyane into the center of the room, unaware that everyone else had fled their presence. The goddess peeked into the ballroom and clapped her hands. “Cyane! Isn’t he handsome?”
Don’t mean Hades...
“Who?” she asked.
She never got her answer as Melinoe darted into the dimly lit ballroom towards the dais. Atop it sat Hades, and beside him stood Cerberus.
Shivering despite herself, maybe because of the dress or maybe because of Melinoe’s incestuous ways, Cyane took in the two dark men. They were one and the same when they were close. Hades with his dark curling shoulder-length hair, his shadowed eyes, and pale skin stood out in his equally pitch-black attire.
She hadn’t bothered to study Hades before, hadn’t wanted to for fear of being drawn into his devastating thrall. Evil gods of legend were often depicted as uncannily beautiful in stories, and it wasn’t fair. She didn’t want to find the devil beautiful—or handsome.
Although she didn’t want to lay her eyes on a large, slobbering, slack-jawed beast as well. Her nightmares were already full.
But… Cyane chewed on her lip—now that she was doomed to meet Hades, part of her seized on the idea that she could familiarize herself with his appearance.
Something nudged her side. Cerberus’s hounds were still with her. She ran her fingers across the nearest one’s back. Petting it calmed her nerves.
Unlike Hades, Cerberus was cold and watchful. Just as frightening but in an unattainable, detached way. Even his armor looked cold.
Melinoe stopped in front of Hades and bowed deeply before him. Neither he nor Cerberus looked at the goddess.
Cyane tried to glimpse Hades’s face, but guests kept weaving in front of her, obscuring her view. Some of the guests had gifts in their hands while others did not. Some danced like the day before, while others feasted vigorously, noisily along the sides of the hall where food was laid out, their
hands and mouths covered in slop.
She discovered that no one else was dressed like her.
She gripped her skirt and turned away from the ballroom.
The lutes, now accompanied by steady pounding drums, grew louder in her ears. The beat of it settled hungrily in her gut, making her sex ache unwillingly. The dress Cerberus laid out for her hadn’t come with underwear. And she sensed wetness between her legs build.
I’m not turned on, she fumed angrily. She didn’t feel turned on, but the slick was there regardless, as if forced out of her for the celebration.
If it didn’t stop, anyone would be able to see it.
Cyane’s stomach sank further. A loud creaking noise filled her ears. She shifted warily as she glanced behind her to see two, impossibly large black doors closing on her.
Forced to make a choice, Cyane fell back into the ballroom with a whimper.
The doors shut with a final groan.
Trapped.
Cerberus’s gaze zeroed in on Cyane. That delicious thrill the mortal had sparked in him when she bowed before him had refused to diminish, offering him not even a desperately needed moment of reprieve. It plagued him even now.
The mortal obeys me like I’m a god. A godhood he had a right to claim but had never desired. It made him want more, and that was a dangerous desire to harbor in Hades’s court.
The undying bowed before Hades and Cerberus. Cerberus felt nothing for their subservience like he had with Cyane’s. They offered his lord gifts of blood, gifts of jewels, the finest clothes, the ripest fruit, and Cerberus found he wanted none of that.
But with Cyane...
“Father,” Melinoe breathed longingly.
Hades waved his hand, and the goddess vanished with a frightened cry.
Snickers rose from the guests around them. Cerberus was barely aware of it all as he breathed in Cyane’s wet scent through his hounds that stayed poised at her sides. She smelled of lilies and purity. The dress he’d chosen emphasized her newness, not only to this realm, but as a young human. She bloomed life.
Like Persephone…
His thoughts darkened. He noticed the eyes of all the males who gazed upon her feverishly. Cyane was a tasty lamb amongst them. The only thing that kept them away was her status as a guest and his hounds’ diligence. He didn’t like the undyings’ eyes on her.
