Fire coiled in my belly, burning me. It wasn’t the all-consuming rage that came before a battle, the frenzy of my father. No, this was darker, deeper, patient, and plotting. This…this came from my mother. Most would think it more dangerous to cross my father. After all, who does not fear war? But no. You never, ever, cross my mother. She was a scourge and would wipe the world clean to satisfy her insatiable need.
I need more mischief. I need to see the clash of Trojan and Greeks on the ground below us. I need to smell the blood and hear their cries. It’s always been this way around Eris, something I’ve always relished about their presence. They allow you to be your darkest self, the side you hide from the rest of the family.
Eros bows his head as the imposter raises the scythe. I manage to break the hold of the dream. I run at her and tackle her to the ground.
My body feels heavy, and I do the only thing I can think to do. I wrap my arms around him from behind, holding him tightly. He shakes at my touch, going stiff. Even my hugs don’t help him.
It’s just dreams. One night. It was a fluke, and I hurt her. I’ll have to live with that memory for the rest of my immortal life.
A little part of my soul breaks when I hear those words. He really thinks I am going to leave him? After everything we have been through?
He grabs my throat, rolling off the couch and pinning me beneath him. I gasp for breath. Grabbing his arms, I struggle under him. I look at his eyes and I know instantly this isn’t him.
Reaching forward, I swipe my thumb across her lower lip in thought, murmuring, “I’m not whole without you, Aren…ever.”
“If you wanted some love, all you had to do was ask,” I smirk, strolling off the elevator without a care in the world.
A wedding tune. My eyes go wide, and I glance around waiting for another god to step up to what I now realize is an altar.
His arms were wrapped around her as she cradled the baby. They smiled, staring lovingly into each other’s eyes before sharing a kiss.
I smiled indulgently and wandered over to the table to gather a dozen candies for him. Wrapping them in a small parcel of soft cloth, I secured it with the last remnant of the red ribbon and presented the token to him.
He followed the line of the chains to the center of the platform and saw that they were attached to the wrists and ankles of a woman.
Oh, my heart, you weren’t supposed to save me. You were supposed to save yourself.
Just put a little into whatever it is Melinoë is drinking and voila! Let the fun begin.
