The Goddess Legacy: The Goddess Queen\The Lovestruck Goddess\Goddess of the Underworld\God of Thieves\God of Darkness (Harlequin Teen) (10 page)

“So you’re saying I’m too dumb to choose for myself?”

He frowns. “Of course not—”

“Then let me choose.”

“Darling, I have eons of experience—”

“I don’t care about your experience.” I stomp my foot. I’ve
never actually done that before, and it seems silly even when I’m in the middle
of it, but it’s strangely relaxing. “I care about my
life
. I love Ares, he loves me, and we want to be together.”

Daddy is silent for a long moment. “Do you truly believe that
spark will last for eternity?”

I sniff. “Of course.”

He watches me. The sun streams in from the balcony, making me
see spots, but I don’t look away. I can’t. There’s too much at stake for me to
blink.

At last he sighs. “Aphrodite, I am sorry, but I cannot go
against my instincts. I love you far too much to let you hurt yourself in such a
way. Or allow you to give Ares the chance to hurt you instead.”

He may as well have hit me, too. Slowly I straighten, squaring
my shoulders and drawing in every bit of my power. “So be it then,” I say. “If
you won’t give me my freedom, then I’ll just have to take it, won’t I?”

I spin around and march out of his office, holding my head
high. To his credit, he doesn’t try to stop me, but then again, maybe he thinks
I’m too weak to go through with it.

Fine. I’ll just have to prove him wrong, then.

I walk purposely through Olympus as I search for Ares. We don’t
have to stay here. We have a right to rule over our own lives, and if we let
Daddy win this battle, he’ll keep at it until he wins the war. I love him, but
he doesn’t get a say in this. Not anymore.

I find Ares in his chambers. Rather, I don’t so much find him
as I hear him from all the way down the hall. He’s yelling at someone, and his
voice echoes too much for me to make out the words at first. I hurry to the
archway, but I come to a dead stop when I see the scene inside his room.

Everything’s a wreck. His bed is overturned, the silk curtains
I hung on his walls have been ripped down and the array of weapons he usually
keeps so organized are scattered across the floor. A particularly sharp ax is
even buried in the wall, inches from the exit into the hallway.

And standing in the middle of the whole mess are Ares and
Hephaestus.

“She’s
mine,
” Ares bellows, and he
thumps his chest with his fist. His rage is palpable, and he glows a faint red.
“Not yours, little brother—
mine.
”

Hephaestus flinches. “You’ve said that,” he says quietly. “But
she is not a possession.”

Says the boy who asked his father to give me to him. I snort,
and both heads turn in my direction.

“Aphrodite?” says Hephaestus. He steps toward me, but Ares
blocks his way with a wicked-looking sword.

“Stay out of this,” says Ares, giving me a look. That same fire
is in his eyes, but this passion isn’t for me. It’s for the fight.

“Why, so you two can have it out and decide who gets to marry
me instead of letting me choose for myself?” I move toward them, sidestepping a
massive shield. “Do either of you actually care about what I want?”

Hephaestus opens his mouth, undoubtedly to claim he does care,
but Ares cuts him off. “Now isn’t the time. I will speak with you once I’m
through with Hephaestus.”

Ares glares at me, and for once, I don’t flinch. I’ve had
enough fighting for one day. If they want to go to war over me, then so be it. I
won’t be sticking around to see it, or to give the winner his
prize
.

“Fine,” I growl, and I turn on my heel and leave. Storming into
my chambers, I start to pack. I don’t have many things to take—a hand mirror
decorated with pearls that a nymph gave me before Daddy found me, several of my
favorite pillows and a reflection of Daddy and me playing on the beach. Even
though others shower me with beautiful things, the only items I really care
about are the ones with love attached to them—with sentimental value. No matter
how angry I am with Daddy, I can’t leave those things behind.

By the time I’m done, Ares is standing in the archway between
the hallway and my room, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He smirks,
looking disgustedly pleased with himself. The jerk.

“Oh, so you won the battle then?” I say, bitterness saturating
every word.

“Don’t be ridiculous. What do you think you’re doing?” he says
in that hoarse voice I love. I pause. What
am
I
doing?

“I’m leaving,” I finally say, because it’s the truth. “I’d like
for you to come with me, but I won’t demand it.”

He eyes me curiously, as if he’s trying to figure out the
puzzle in my words. But there’s no puzzle. He deserves a choice, just like me.
“All right then,” he says. “Where are we going?”

With those four words, all of my anxiety vanishes. Grinning, I
run to him and wrap my arms around him, showering him with kisses. “I love you
so much,” I murmur.

He holds me securely against him, his arms strong and his grip
firm, as if he’s never going to let me go. I hope with everything I am that he
doesn’t. “Is that a place now?” he teases.

I kiss him again, pouring every last bit of me into it. Words
can only say so much, and the way I love him—those words don’t exist. “Home,” I
say. “We’re going home.”

* * *

I don’t often talk about my life before Olympus. Or at
all, really. There’s no point. I spent most of it on an island with nymphs, who
took care of me as if I was their own. But I wasn’t their daughter. I was
nobody’s daughter, and no matter how much they loved me, the knowledge that my
real parents had abandoned me hurt. Daddy likes to theorize that I didn’t have
parents, that I was born from the blood of a Titan, but that only makes things
worse. Who wants to exist because someone was in pain?

But one good thing did come out of my childhood: the island. It
didn’t have a name when I was growing up, and humans haven’t found it yet, which
means it still doesn’t. It’s my safe place, the place I go to think, and the act
of taking Ares’s hand and dropping onto the island from Olympus makes me feel
more vulnerable than I ever have before.

“Wow.” At least the first words out of Ares’s mouth are
appropriate. We stand on a collection of boulders smoothed down by time, and
across a clear pool is a waterfall. Vines of pink and purple flowers hang down
each side like curtains, and above us the sunset stains the sky.

“This is my favorite place in the world.” I squeeze his hand.
“Other than wherever you are, of course. And you being here makes it
perfect.”

Ares wraps his arm around my shoulders, every trace of his
earlier wrath gone. Being away from Olympus will do us both some good, but Ares
needs it more than I do. He needs to see the beauty in all things, not just in
conflict and blood and war.

We stand there for several minutes, soaking in the last of the
sunset. As soon as the indigo of night seeps into the sky, I lead him across the
edge of the pool toward the waterfall. “Come on,” I say. “I’ll show you where I
grew up.”

He follows me, and though he doesn’t say anything, I can feel
his wariness. None of the gods except Poseidon—and me, of course—are comfortable
around water. It isn’t part of them, just like the Underworld isn’t. But he
doesn’t complain as we both step through the waterfall, and his bravery is well
rewarded. On the other side, in a hidden grotto, is my home.

Over the years, I’ve brought little things here, and little
things add up over time. The nymphs must have known we were coming, because a
cozy fire crackles in the middle of the cave, illuminating everything with a
warm glow. A nest of pillows inhabits an entire corner, more than enough for
both of us. Jewels hang from the ceiling, sparkling in the low light, and my
collection of reflections hover on the walls, attached by a thought. If a mortal
were to stumble across this cave, they’d be horribly confused. Most of them
believe in us, but believing and seeing are two entirely different things.

“Do you like it?” I say. Fresh grapes wait for us on a golden
platter, and I lead Ares to the nest of pillows.

“It’s incredible,” he says, for once not trying to act like
he’s above it all. “This is where you grew up?”

I nod. “It’s my secret place. And you’re my secret now,
too.”

He kisses me with that same bruising passion, his fingers
tangling in my hair as he lowers me onto the pillows. The sting of leaving Daddy
behind still cuts me, but it isn’t forever. Just long enough for him to
apologize and let me marry Ares instead.

A choice. Love. Devotion. It isn’t too much to ask for, and
Daddy will wear down eventually. He has to.

* * *

I’ve never been very good with time. I can tell you how
long a day is, of course, and a lunar cycle. But eventually everything sort of
blends together no matter how alive I feel.

That’s what time with Ares is like—a whirlwind of living. We
explore the entire island together as the days trickle by, and for the first
time ever, I feel like the center of someone’s world. There’s nothing like it,
being someone’s sun, and I lose myself in Ares and our life together.

Years pass—it must be years, because the mild seasons change,
and I’ve nearly forgotten the scent of Olympus—and we have a son. At first I’m
not crazy about the idea of being a mother. I’m too young, I still have too much
to do before I’m tied down like Hera, and half the time I forget to take care of
myself, let alone a baby. But Eros is the sweetest little thing I’ve ever seen.
His blond curls, blue eyes and rosy cheeks are all mine, but his focus and
intensity are Ares’s. And his chin. Definitely his chin. I’ve never seen Ares as
happy as he is the moment a nymph lays Eros in his arms.

But on the day he’s born, my world shifts, and Eros becomes my
sun. I think I see it in Ares’s eyes, the way he looks at me cradling the baby,
though neither of us says it aloud. It’s the happiest moment of my life, but
it’s also the moment our paradise starts to change.

“You still love me, don’t you?” I murmur three days after
Eros’s birth. He’s my timepiece now, my moon and my stars, and I won’t ever
forget a day he existed. I’m curled up in the nest of pillows, cradling Eros as
he sleeps. Ares sharpens his sword by the fire.

He pauses, and resounding silence replaces the screech of stone
against metal. Somehow the sound doesn’t bother the baby. “Why do you ask?”

His reluctance to give me a yes or no answer makes doubt coil
inside me, hard and cold and impossible to swallow. “Eros. I just wanted to make
sure—nothing’s changed, has it?”

He sets his sword down and joins us in the pillows. He hasn’t
touched me properly since before Eros’s birth, but now he gathers me up, his
hand splayed across my back as he buries his nose in my hair. “I love you,” he
says. “Do you still love me?”

“More than ever,” I whisper, and it’s the truth. Somehow, even
though I thought it wasn’t possible, my heart’s swelled. I loved Ares with
everything I had before, but now there’s more—enough for Eros, and even more for
Ares.

The fire crackles, and Ares traces my lips with the pad of his
thumb. “I have to go tomorrow. There’s a war brewing, and I’ve neglected my
duties long enough.”

I feel like someone’s poured a bucket of cold water over my
head, and that doubt returns, thicker than ever. “But—why? You don’t need to
fight.”

He chuckles, but there’s no humor in his laughter. For a brief
second, he looks at me the way he did in Olympus all that time ago, when he and
Hephaestus argued. Like I’m a child. Like I don’t understand. “And if I told you
that you don’t need to love?”

I snort. “That’s absurd.”

“Then why tell me I don’t need to fight?” He kisses my cheek.
“I’m taking care of my duties, that’s all. The nymphs will be here to take care
of you and Eros, and I’ll be back soon enough.”

“How soon is soon enough?” I say, and he shrugs.

“As long as it takes for someone to win. But I’ll think of you
every second, I promise.”

We both know he won’t, not when there’s a battle to fight, but
I appreciate the sentiment anyhow. And at sunset the next day, he kisses me and
Eros goodbye, his lips lingering on mine. A flash of green bursts through the
sky, and all that’s left of him are two footprints in the sand.

Swallowing tightly, I notice a shell beside the spot where his
left heel was moments before. Picking it up, I wash it in the ocean and cradle
it in my palm, as if it holds the key to when Ares will return. But it’s just a
shell, and it gives me no answers. I take it back to the grotto anyway.

I spend the whole night sobbing, even though I’m upsetting
Eros. His tears only make me cry harder, and I cling to him as if he’s my
lifeline. He is, in a way. Ares is gone, however temporarily, and Eros is all I
have left until he returns. I need love the way Ares needs war; without him, I’m
just immortal again, waiting for that spark to bring me to life once more. But
at least he waited until we had a baby to leave. At least he knows I can’t be
alone.

That in and of itself is a sign of how much he loves me, and I
force myself not to forget it.

* * *

I go to the beach every day at sunset to wait for him. I
make plans for what we’ll do together when he returns, and on my bad days, I
consider returning to Olympus just to find out where he is. But even though Ares
isn’t here, Eros is, and watching him grow makes me feel again.

“Eros! Not so fast!” I laugh as I chase my toddler down the
beach. The sun beats down on us, warming me from the inside out, and the gentle
waves lap at my feet. The only way today could be more perfect is if Ares would
come home.

Eros stops at a scattering of driftwood near the entrance to a
cave we’ve explored a dozen times before. Kneeling in the sand, he picks through
the crude rope and logs, and I crouch down beside him.