Part I Chapter 11


She spread her arm out and a table covered with food appeared beside the bed.

Acheron gaped at the feast.

"If you'd like something else, tell me."

"No, this is wonderful." He left the bed to tear into a loaf of bread. His eyes widened at the taste of it. Coated in honey and warm, it was the best he'd ever had.

Artemis poured him a cup of wine. "Goodness, you were hungry."

He took the cup gratefully then drank deep of the rich flavor. "Thank you, Artie."

She arched a brow at his unintended nickname. "Artie?"

Acheron cringed as he realized his slip of the tongue. "Artemis. I meant to say Artemis."

She nuzzled him. "I think I like Artie. No one's ever called me that before."

Acheron leaned his head down to kiss her hand.

Artemis couldn't breathe as that simple touch electrified her. What was it about this man that set fire to her entire being? She wanted to hold and protect him. More than that, she wanted to devour every inch of his lush body.

Closing her eyes, she leaned into him and inhaled that intoxicating scent that was all male and all him. "Eat, Acheron," she whispered. "I don't want you to be hungry."

He stepped away from her and she felt the sudden cold left in the wake of his heat like a punch against her stomach. She watched as he dipped the bread in a small dish of honey before he took a bite and smiled a smile so handsome it made her heart lift.

He dipped another piece, then turned toward her. "Would you like some?"

She nodded. He held it for her to take a bite. Artemis opened her mouth. As he set the bread on her tongue, she licked his fingers that were delicious. Salty and sweet, they whetted her appetite for more.

His eyes darkened, causing a wave of desire to flare deep inside her. He dipped his fingertip in the honey, then outlined her lips before he pulled her close for a blistering kiss. The taste of him combined with honey was more than she could stand.

Pulling him toward the bed, she lay down and tugged his hand until he was on top of her.

Acheron growled at the sight of Artemis underneath him. "You are so incredibly beautiful."

Artemis couldn't respond verbally. She was completely captivated by the look of tenderness on his face. No one had ever looked at her like this. And when he buried his lips against her throat all rational thought was lost to the fire inside her.

She'd never been completely naked with anyone. But as he unfastened her gown, she didn't protest. With an excruciating slowness, he slid the cloth down her body until she was bare to him. He made no move to remove his own clothes.

Instead, he lifted her foot to nibble her instep. Biting her lip at the exquisite torture, she watched him as he worked his way up her body.

He paused as he gently licked the inside of her thigh. "Do you want me to stop?"

Artemis shook her head. "I love for you to touch me."

His look scorched her before he nudged her thighs farther apart and touched the part of her that ached the most for him. She sank her fingers in his hair and fisted her hands.

Acheron pulled back with a hiss as if she'd hurt him.

She frowned. "Is something wrong?"

"Please don't grab and pull my hair. I hate it when people do that."

"Why?"

"It makes me feel like I'm garbage."

There was no missing the raw pain in his voice. "I don't understand."

"People snatch at my hair to control me or to hold me down at their feet. They yank it while they violate and humiliate me. I don't like it."

Artemis stroked his cheek, wanting to soothe him. "I'm sorry, Acheron. I didn't know. Is there anything else you don't like?"

Acheron froze at her question. No lover had ever asked him that question before. He still couldn't believe he'd told her that he didn't like having his hair touched. It wasn't something he'd normally do, but since she'd asked, he felt compelled to tell her. "I don't like anyone breathing on the back of my neck. It reminds me of being a slave with no will of my own and it makes my skin crawl."

"Then I shall never do that to you."

Those words touched him so deep inside that it brought tears to his eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat before he nuzzled her. There was nothing he wouldn't do to please his goddess. Artemis was all that was kind. He couldn't imagine why she wanted to befriend something as low as an ex-slave, but he was grateful to be with her.

Wanting to please her not because he had to but because he wanted it, he took his time teasing her body until she screamed out his name. True to her words, she didn't grab his hair as she came. She sank her nails into his shoulders.

Grateful that she'd kept her word, he crawled up her body and pulled her into his arms.

Artemis sighed as she lay against him. He was still fully clothed. "Why do you never take anything for yourself?"

"I don't find real pleasure in sex."

She frowned at him. "How can you not enjoy it?"

He couldn't even begin to explain to her that nothing about sex made him feel good. He liked to touch her, but he didn't have the same reaction to her touch that she had to his. Orgasms were pleasurable no doubt. He just didn't care whether or not he had one.

"I enjoy it," he lied. It would make her feel good to hear that. He would keep the truth of it buried inside him. Honestly he loved being with her. When they were together he felt like a man with no past. She saw him as her friend and if a goddess liked him he couldn't be as repugnant as his father and brother made him out to be.

She rubbed herself against his body.

Acheron closed his eyes and savored the sensation of her warm body next to his. "I wish I could stay here with you forever."

"If you were female you could, but only my brother is allowed in my temple. No other male."

"But I'm here now."

"I know and it's our secret. You can never tell anyone."

"I won't."

She lifted herself up to give him a stern frown. "I mean it, Acheron. Not even in your sleep are you to breathe a word about me."

"Trust me, Artie, keeping secrets is the one thing I learned early in my life. I know when to keep my mouth shut. Besides no one really talks to me anyway."

"Good. Now it's time for you to go home."

One minute he was in her temple beside her, the next he was in his bed naked again. He realized too late that he hadn't really eaten anything. Damn. But at least it was dark outside. He'd missed most of the day. So long as his father hadn't sent guards to beat him no one would know of his visit to Olympus.

Sighing, Acheron draped one arm over his eyes. Maybe he could just sleep until Artemis came for him again.

But even as the thought occurred to him he knew this couldn't last. A whore didn't befriend a goddess. It was impossible. Sooner or later Artemis would be like everyone else.

Yet deep in his heart was a tiny splash of hope that maybe, just maybe, Artemis because of her godhood would be different.

"I would sell my soul to keep and protect you, Artie," he breathed, wondering if she could hear him. If only he were born of the gods too . . .

He shook his head at the harsh reality he knew all too well. "And if wishes were horses, I'd have been run over in childhood."

No, this was all they could ever have. All he could do was make sure that no one learned the truth. May the gods help him if anyone ever did.

January 12, 9528 BC

Acheron sat on the railing of his balcony, missing Artemis. She was off at a festival that was being held in her honor and she wanted to spy on the people there in person. She was odd that way and liked to see people worshiping her while she pretended to be mortal.

He found it strangely endearing and had to admit that these last few weeks had been the best of his life.

Artemis was the only person who'd ever allowed him to be himself. If he didn't like something, he could tell her and she'd promise not to let it happen again.

She never broke her word to him. That more than anything was a dream come true. And because they spent so much time together, and Acheron wasn't causing trouble or sneaking out through his guards, his father had left him alone. He couldn't remember a time in his life, except for the months with Ryssa, when he'd gone this long without being hit or beaten.

The reprieve was divine.

Suddenly the doors to his room were shoved open.

His gut tightened. Afraid it was his father coming for him, he gripped the stone beneath him.

It wasn't. Ryssa strode into the room with the brightest smile he'd ever seen on her face. "Good day, little brother."

"Good day," he greeted hesitantly in return, wondering at her mood and the fact that she'd left the doors behind her wide open. "Is something wrong?"

Maybe his father had finally died. It was the best he could hope for. Stopping just before him, she pulled a small purse out from behind her back and held it out toward him. "You're free."

His father must be dead!

Acheron swung his legs down. "What do you mean?"

"I've discovered one of the benefits to sleeping with Apollo. Father listens to me now. Your guards are gone and you'll have a monthly stipend to spend however you wish." She placed the purse in his hand. "I've also procured for you a reserved spot at the stadium for any and all plays. No one but you will be allowed to sit there. Ever."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What are the conditions?"

Her smile faded so that she could grind her teeth in aggravation. "Typical comment of Father's. You're not allowed to shame him or the family. He wouldn't elaborate, but so long as you don't cavort with anyone I think you'll be fine."

Acheron scoffed at the mere idea. "I have no plans to cavort with anyone." At least not publicly. He'd grown tired of that long ago. He didn't like being a spectacle.

She leaned forward. "Would you like to go to a play with me?"

"What about Apollo?"

"He's off with his sister. I have most of the day to myself." She held her hand out to him. "What say you, little brother? Shall we celebrate your freedom?"

Acheron gave her a real smile-something he almost never did. "Thank you, Ryssa. You've no idea how much this means to me."

"I think I have an idea."

Acheron went to retrieve his cloak from under the mattress . . . and the shoes Artemis had given him. He held the shoes for a moment, missing the goddess even more than before. How he wished he could celebrate with her, but that would have to wait.

After dressing himself quickly, he followed Ryssa out of the room. In the hallway, he hesitated as he looked around the bright walls. With the exception of Ryssa's offering to Apollo, he'd never left his room through the doors without having to bribe his guards with sex.

The degree to which his life had changed hit him full force. No longer a slave. No longer a prisoner. He was free now.

Acheron lifted his head proudly with the knowledge that he had money and he hadn't had to screw anyone to get it. More than that, he had a friend and a lover who treated him like he mattered.

For the first time in his life, he felt like a human being and not a possession or an object. It was a damn good feeling and he didn't want it to end.

Ryssa took his hand in hers and led him through the hallways, out the front door as if she wasn't ashamed in the least to be seen in his company. But as they moved among people, Acheron remembered one thing that hadn't changed.

Other people's reactions to his beauty. He pulled the cowl low over his face and kept his eyes on the ground at Ryssa's feet. He'd spent so much time with Artemis lately that he'd all but forgotten about his eyes and how much they repulsed regular people.

As they walked through the town square, he paused. There was a group of children with a teacher standing in front of a temple. A boy around the age of seven was reading the text that was written at the feet of the god.

" 'In all things moderation. The key to the future is understanding the past.' "

"Acheron?"

He blinked at Ryssa's voice and turned away to see her staring up at him with a frown. "Do all children know how to read?"

She glanced at the students. "Not all. Those are senators' sons. They come out here to learn about the pantheon and to see how the priests serve the gods while their fathers make the laws to govern people."

Acheron stared at the words that held no meaning to him. He was too ashamed to admit to Ryssa that he remembered almost nothing of his lessons with her and Maia. "All noblemen can read though, can't they?"

She tugged at his hand without answering. "We're going to be late to the play."

Acheron turned and followed her. "Have you any word about Maia?"

Ryssa smiled. "She married last year and is expecting her first child."

The news hit him hard. He didn't like the thought of a man hurting the girl he'd been so fond of. He hoped whoever she'd married treated her with the regard she deserved. "Isn't she too young for that?"

"Not really. Most girls wed at her age. I was a rare exception, but Father refused all suitors who asked for my hand."

"Why?"

"I honestly don't know. He would never explain himself to me. I suppose I should be grateful to Apollo. If not for him, I'm sure I would have lived my life as a spinster."

He could think of many things worse than that. But his sister was allowed her delusions he supposed. "Does Apollo make you happy now?"

"He's gentle most of the time." There was a sadness in her beautiful blue eyes that belied her words.

"But?"

She touched her neck in a nervous gesture that made him frown in understanding. "I'm not allowed to talk about what we do when we're together."

So Apollo fed from her in the same manner Artemis drank from him. It made him wonder if all the gods did that or was it something unique between Artemis and Apollo. "You deserve to be happy, Ryssa. More than anyone I know."

She smiled at him. "Not true. You're the one who deserves happiness. I could just choke Father for his blindness."

"I don't mind it so much anymore," he said honestly. "I'd much rather be ignored than abused."

She shook her head before she bypassed the crowd to show him where the proprietor had made a special entrance to the royal seats reserved for them.

Acheron hesitated. They were separated from the crowd by a cord and each of the ten seats was covered with a cushion. But what he didn't like was the fact that the area stood out and others kept glancing over at them. He hated people to focus their attention on him.

But he didn't want to insult Ryssa's gift. Pulling his cloak tighter, he followed her to the seats.

Neither of them spoke while the actors came out to perform. Acheron watched them as he thought about the children they'd seen on their way here. He wanted to read the way they did. Artemis deserved a consort who was literate.

Maybe if he could read, she might not have to hide their friendship . . .

Artemis felt her brother's presence behind her like a physical touch. As twins, the two of them shared a special bond.

And a special hatred.

She wasn't sure when they'd become friendly enemies, but it was a cold fact. Though there was nothing they wouldn't do for each other, they could barely stand to be in the same room.

Hatred aside, she couldn't deny that Apollo was one of the more handsome gods. His shining blond hair was cropped short and the strong lean lines of his face were set off by the small goatee. His blue eyes were riveting with intelligence, power and a hint of cruelty.

He arched a brow at her. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I could say the same for you. It's about time you crawled out of your human pet's bed. I was beginning to think she was the one controlling you."

His look turned arctic. "And what has been keeping you so occupied? Father said you haven't been to the Olympian hall in weeks."

She shrugged. "It's boring there."

"That's never stopped you before."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Do you mind? I'm trying to watch the humans worship me."

Before she could move away, Apollo took her arm and pulled her closer to him so that he could whisper in her ear. "You haven't come to me to feed in a while. Who have you been taking your nourishment from?"

"What do you care?"

He gripped her neck as his canine teeth elongated. "There's only so long you can feed from a human before you hunger for something a little more substantial." He dipped his head toward her neck.

Artemis stepped away from him. "I'm not interested."

Apollo's eyes flamed red. "You do remember what happened to the last man you trifled with?"

She cringed at the reminder. Orion. Artemis had taken a fancy to the man but before she could even approach him, Apollo had jealously tricked her into killing him with one of her arrows. Then her brother had placed his image in the stars to always remind her that Apollo was the only male she could feed from.

"I didn't trifle with Orion."

He forced her to face him. "You need to feed."

Yes, but she didn't want to feed from her brother. She wanted Acheron.

Apollo pulled her into the shadows of his temple while the humans were gathered outside of hers to pay tribute. She didn't want to follow him. But if she didn't, he'd know she'd been with someone else and may Zeus help Acheron then. Her brother would tear him apart.

Her heart aching, she tried not to cringe as Apollo jerked her against him and offered her his neck. She took it and in her mind she pretended he was Acheron. Even so, she could taste the difference between them. Apollo's blood lacked the spirit. There was no racing inside her as she tasted him. No fire that wanted her to hold him close.

It was just blood.

When she'd taken enough to placate him, she pulled back and licked her lips.

Apollo attacked her then. His teeth tore through the tendons of her neck, leaving it throbbing. She wanted to slap him for it and many times in the past she had. Damn Hera for this curse. The jealous bitch had tried to kill both of them at birth and because Artemis had helped her mother deliver Apollo, this was her punishment. There was nothing worse than being forced to feed on your own kind. It was a lesson she and Apollo had known the whole of their lives.

Her head light, she tried to think clearly. Apollo was taking too much blood. It was something he always did when he was angry at her.

Grinding her teeth, she kneed him hard in the groin. He jerked back with a curse, tearing at her neck. Her curse joined his as she covered the gaping wound with her hand. "You're such a bastard."

He grabbed her upper arm, blistering it with his grip. "Remember what I told you. I catch you with a mortal man and I will kill him."

Artemis snatched her arm free. "Go play with your humans and leave me alone."

Her joy in the festival completely squelched, she transported herself back to her temple. But it was so lonely here. Her koris were gone for the day.

She looked at her bed and imagined the sight of Acheron there, his smile warming her while he pleased her with kisses and gentle caresses.

Needing him desperately, she flashed to his room. The instant she saw him sitting cross-legged on the floor with his back to her, her heart lightened. Without thought or hesitation, she ran to him and embraced him.

Acheron was startled as Artemis threw herself against his back and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hold. Even so the scent of her filled his head.

"I missed you today," she whispered in his ear, sending chills over his entire body.

"I missed you too."

Her grip tightened before she released him and placed her chin on his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

Acheron snatched the scroll up from the floor and folded it so that she couldn't see what he was about. "Nothing."

"You're doing something . . ." She grabbed the scroll from him before he could stop her and opened it. She frowned at his childish marks. "What's this?"

He felt heat sting his face at having been caught. "I was trying to teach myself to write."

"Why?"

"I don't know how and I wish to learn."

She lowered the scroll to stare in disbelief. "Can't you read?"

Acheron hung his head as shame poured through him. "No."

Artemis lifted his chin in a gentle caress until he met her gaze. The kindness in her eyes warmed him completely. "You can now."

Acheron gasped as a slight pain went through him. She handed him the scroll back.

"Write your name."

Baffled by what had just happened to him, he picked up the quill and knew how to draw the letters. He wrote his name flawlessly. "I don't understand."

"I'm a goddess, Acheron. And I don't want you to hang your head in shame. Does this please you?"

"More than anything."

Her smile dazzled him. "Come with me. I'm in the mood to hunt."

"I don't know how to hunt."

"You will."

True to her words as soon as they were in the woods, she gave him a bow and arrow and just like with the writing, he knew exactly what to do.

How wondrous to be able to do something without all the years of learning it. But in truth, there was something more he wanted than literacy and hunting. "Can you teach me to fight?"

Artemis turned on him with a stunned expression. "What?"

"I want to know how to fight."

She scowled, then asked the one question that she never failed to voice. "Why?"

"I'm tired of being hit. I want to know how to defend myself."

Artemis was stunned by his unexpected request. An image of Apollo knocking her around went through her head so sharply that she flinched. Like most men she'd known, Apollo was such a controlling bastard. The last thing she wanted was to make herself vulnerable to Acheron. Teaching a man to fight could never lead to anything good. "I don't think so. I won't let anyone hurt you, Acheron. I'm all the protection you need."

"What if you grow bored with me?"

She cupped his cheek in her hand. "How could I ever be bored with you?"

Acheron offered her a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I really wish you'd teach me."

His insistence set her hackles rising. "I said no," she snapped.

Acheron paused at the hostility in her tone. He knew that anger and what it stemmed from. "Who hits you?"

Artemis lowered her bow. "I think there's deer over this way."

"Artie . . ." He pulled her to a stop. "I know the sound in your voice. I've had it too often in mine not to recognize what it means. Who has hurt you?"

She hesitated for so long that he didn't expect her to answer, but when she did her tone was so low that he barely heard it. "Other gods."

He was stunned by her confession. "Why?"

"Why does anyone hit?" Her eyes were furious again. "It makes them feel more powerful. I will not have you hit me. Ever."

"And I would never do so," he said, his voice rife with conviction. "I could no more do to another what has been done to me than cut my own heart out. I only wish to protect myself."

"And I told you. I will protect you."

He caressed her arm before he dropped his hand and stepped back. "Then I shall trust you, Artie. But I want you to know that I don't trust easily. Please don't be like everyone else and break your word to me. I hate being lied to."

She kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Let us hunt."

Acheron nodded before he nocked a new arrow and placated the only real friend he'd ever had. She didn't shun him and he didn't have to hide from her. What scared him, though, were the feelings inside him whenever she was near.

He was falling in love with a goddess and he knew just how stupid that was. Out of all the things he'd been, he'd never been a fool.

Until now.

She made him feel whole. Happy. And he never wanted these feelings to leave.

Pushing the thought away, he took aim at a buck. As he sighted it, Artemis ran at him and tickled him. The arrow flew wide of its mark, embedding itself in a tree where it disturbed a squirrel that actually threw a nut at him.

Acheron laughed before he narrowed his eyes on Artie. He tossed his bow aside then stalked toward her. "You have fouled my perfect shot. You're going to pay for that."

Artemis dropped her bow before she bolted.

He ran for her as she tried to disappear into the woods. Her laughter taunted him and made him smile all the more. He caught up to her right as she reached the small stream.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he swung her around in his arms.

Artemis couldn't breathe as the full weight of Acheron slammed into her. The sight of his smile, the light in those magical eyes . . .

It made her want to shout out in ecstasy.

He twirled around with her while the birds sang a special melody for them. She was lost in this one time and place with him. This was what she'd always wanted. Always needed.

Acheron didn't care about her quirks or her moodiness. Nor did he flinch from feeding her. He took her as she was and held her regardless. Unlike her family he didn't belittle her or tell her that she lacked the followers he had. He didn't care about any of that.

She wanted to lose herself to this moment and to him for the rest of eternity.

"Make love to me, Acheron."

Acheron froze at her words as his smile faded. "What?" He set her back on the ground.

She brushed his beautiful hair back from his face. "I want to know you like a woman. I want to feel you inside me."

He released her and stepped back, his expression reserved. "I don't think so."

"Why not?"

He swallowed and she saw the fear in those silver eyes. "I don't want anything to change between us. I like being your friend, Artie."

"But you already touch me in places no one else has. Why wouldn't you want to be inside me?"

"You're a virgin."

"Only by a small technicality. Please, Acheron. I want to share myself with you."

Acheron looked away as his emotions burned through him. What she offered him was unimaginable. Yet he'd had numerous princesses and noblewomen come to him so that he could break their bodies in gently for intercourse with other men.

Parthenopaeus . . . Of the pierced maidenhead-that was how Estes and Catera had billed his services to his female clients. Acheron's reputation for gentleness had been legendary. The fact that he was extremely well-endowed and was still careful with them hadn't hurt him either.

Now a goddess offered herself to him. Any other man would leap at the chance. For that matter, any other man would already be naked.

But unlike the rest, he fully understood the intricacies of physical intimacy. Even though they asked and paid for it, some women cried at the loss of their innocence. Others cursed him and themselves. Some had even turned violent over the loss. A small handful rejoiced.

The problem was he didn't know which one Artemis would be.

"I don't want to hurt you."

She walked herself into his arms. "Please Acheron . . . I want to feel you in me when I feed on you."

"I really don't think we should."

Her eyes snapped fury at him. "Fine. Go then. Get out of my sight."

"Artie . . ."

It was too late. He was back in his room. Alone. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hoping she could hear him.

If she heard, she gave him no clue.

You should have slept with her. Would it really have mattered? He'd slept with everyone else. But the others had just been bodies for him to please. Artemis was different.

He loved her.

No, it wasn't as simple as that. What he felt for her . . . it defied love. He needed her in a way he wouldn't have thought possible and now he'd angered her.

His heart heavy, he only hoped that he could find some way to win her back and make her forgive him.

January 26, 9528 BC

It had been two weeks since Acheron had last seen Artemis and with the passing of each day, he grew more despondent. She refused to answer his calls.

He didn't even bother going to plays. Nothing could alleviate the pain inside him that wanted to be with her. All he wanted was to see her again.

Tilting his head back, he guzzled the last of the wine in the bottle he'd been drinking from. Angry and hurt, he threw it over the banister to let it smash on the rocks below. He reached for a new bottle and tried to pull the cork from it. He was too drunk to manage it.

"Acheron?"

He froze at the sound of the one voice he'd been begging to hear. "Artie?" He attempted to push himself to his feet, but instead he fell back to the ground. Looking up, he saw her in the shadows of his room.

She stepped forward, her face pale and drawn. Her left eye was swollen and there was the faint outline of a bruise in the shape of someone's handprint.

Rage darkened his sight. "Who hit you!"

Artemis stepped back, afraid of the man before her. She'd never seen Acheron drunk, but whenever Apollo drank, he turned violent. "I'll come back-"

"No," he breathed, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Please don't leave." He reached his hand out to her.

Her first instinct to run, she swallowed and reminded herself that she was a goddess. He was human and therefore couldn't harm her. Her legs trembling in reservation, she reached out slowly and took his hand in hers.

Acheron held it to his cheek and closed his eyes as if he were content to die now, as if touching her was the greatest pleasure he could imagine. He buried his face against her skin and inhaled deeply. "I've missed you so . . ."

She'd missed him too. Every day she'd sworn she wasn't going to see him, but today . . .

After Apollo's attack, she needed to be held by someone she knew wouldn't hurt her. "You look terrible," she said, frowning at the thick, prickly beard that had grown over his face. "And you smell bad."

He laughed at her criticism. "It's your fault I look like this."

"How so?"

"I thought I'd lost you."

Those anguished words touched her so deeply that it brought tears to her eyes. Falling to her knees, she shook her head at him.

Before she could speak, he whispered in her ear. "I love you, Artie."

Her breath caught in her throat. "What did you say?"

"I love you." He leaned against her and wrapped his arm around her neck before he collapsed and passed out.

Artemis sat there, holding him as his words echoed all the way to her soul. Acheron loved her . . .

She looked down at his face that was still incredibly handsome even in its unkempt state. He loved her. That succeeded in making her cry in a way she hadn't cried since she was a child. And she hated the fact that he could make her do this. She hated the fact that those words meant so much to her when they should mean nothing at all.

But the truth was the truth and she couldn't deny it.

"I love you too," she whispered, knowing that she could never tell him that if he were awake. It would give him, a mortal, too much power over her.

But here in this moment, she could tell him a truth that she wanted to deny with every part of herself. How could a goddess be in love with a man? Especially her? She was supposed to be immune to it. But somehow this mortal had crept into her soul.

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