Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

“Heal his wounds, Hera, for he is a son of Greece. Give him strength, Ares, for he is a warrior for Olympus…” she whispered prayers as she leaned over him, calling on each God.

Finally his eyes fluttered open, causing her prayers to stick in her throat. He stared about him, blinking rapidly. His gaze found hers, widening in surprise.

She sat back, silently offering up prayers of thanks.

He rose onto his elbow, holding his head and speaking softly, “Who was that villain, lady?”

Medusa shook her head. Words would not come. She must gather herself. Ariston was well. Poseidon was gone.

But the God’s words filled her ears anew.

No, not words, not idle conversation. He’d promised her, a pledge she knew he’d keep. Coldness found her, causing her to tremble.

“Are you injured, mistress?”

“No.” She was shivering. Why couldn’t she stop shivering?

Ariston unhooked the gold disk that secured his robe and slid it from his shoulders. He moved closer to her, carefully, draping the softly worn fabric about her shoulders. He pulled the fabric together then slipped the clasp home, ever mindful of his closeness.

“He touched you?” Ariston’s voice wavered.

She shook her head, staring at him with unspoken need. Heat radiated from him, clinging to his cloak, offering comfort and safety. She ached for him, for his arms about her.

“No one saw, lady. No one will know.” His voice was firm, entreating.

“He did not touch me.” Medusa’s voice hitched.

His face, his beautiful face, twisted. Medusa saw the anger he fought to repress. “What happened?”

“It… He was Poseidon… He came for me.” She stood, bracing herself against the pillar.

He watched her face. “He came for you?” He stood slowly, moving closer to her. “For your father? But Athena…”

She shook her head, leaning against the pillar as she whispered, “For his wife… He would have me as wife…” She could not stop the panic that colored her words. She regarded him through fresh tears, her voice hitching uncontrollably as she tried to go on. “I could not…”

He bit out the words, “You cannot. You are Athena’s. And she will protect you.” He paused, his chest rising and falling harshly as his eyes traveled over her. His next words were strong and clear. “If Athena does not protect you, I will. I swear it to you.” The muscle in his jaw tightened – inviting her touch.

They were the sweetest words she’d ever heard. She knew he meant them. With every fiber of his being, he would protect her.

She searched his face, drawing upon his strength. Whatever her fate was, knowing he was alive and well would bring her happiness. “No.” She would not risk him. “You must do your duty, soldier, as I must do mine.” She pulled her gaze from his, pushing herself from the pillar and moving to the robes room.

But his troubled face, the raw anguish she felt, kept sleep at bay.

###

“This is your solution?” Zeus looked astounded.

“It will make peace with Phorcys and Athena. It will honor them both. Surely you see this, brother?” Poseidon asked. He would need his brother to succeed.

Zeus stared at him from under thick brows, amused. “You think Athena will be honored to have her priestess taken as your wife?”

Poseidon’s irritation with Athena was all but forgotten. “I will give my niece a statue for her new temple. It shall be larger than any other of her likeness, as grand as she desires. I will give her whatever tribute she asks.” His voice grew rough. “But I will have Medusa as wife.” He burned with a new fire – to possess Medusa.

Zeus watched him with growing understanding. “I see.”

Poseidon saw Zeus’ look and shook his head. Poseidon was known for his conquests. He’d sired more children than any other God, by women willing or taken by force. Hera had often chided him, comparing his temperament to that of his kingdom, the sea.

He preened under such comparisons.