Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

She slid down the base of a fig tree to sit, resting her elbows on her knees. Thoughts of her father, her sisters, Athena, and her unknown future tormented her.

Athena’s anger was most unsettling. In all Medusa’s years with her Goddess, she’d never encountered Athena’s wrath. In some small way she pitied Poseidon.

The knowledge that she had no control, no say, in this matter burned like a hot coal in her stomach. What she would give for a moment’s freedom, to do as she wished. It was folly to imagine what could have been if she were not a priestess or the daughter of a Sea Titan.

But, for a brief moment, she did.

To be a woman from a family of no import, with little or no responsibility beyond that of daily life to carry out…to just be, sounded as close to Elysium as could be found outside the Underworld. She tried to imagine such a life. To love and be loved, to dance together, to touch a man’s hand or be drawn into his strong, warm arms…

Her eyes shifted to the guards’ house for but a moment.

She held her hand out, regarding its delicate bones and pale skin in the waning moonlight.

She’d never touched a man. Yet she wanted to. She longed to be held tightly, with no hesitance. She craved affection, comfort – and someone to share it with. Not just any man. She could no longer deny the truth in her heart.

“Lady?” Ariston’s voice was a whisper, but he startled her anyway.

She stared up at him in shock, blushing even though she knew he could not know her thoughts were of him. Thoughts of being in his arms… Her heart thundered, then seemed to stop altogether as she took in his ruffled appearance, still wrinkled from slumber. He looked young, tousled and only slightly fearsome without his soldier garb. He looked…beautiful to her eyes, but no less a man.

She could scarcely breathe as his eyes found hers.

His gaze was warm upon her, so warm she could almost feel his touch. Her stomach tightened and her longing sharpened.

She forced her gaze beyond him to the golden border widening along the horizon.

She said softly, “Tis too early, I know, soldier.” She did not look at him as she added, “And yet I’m awake.”

He remained silent, making her shift uncomfortably. Why did he say nothing?

“Mayhap the moon, or her Goddess Selene, was calling to me?” she tried to tease.

She looked at him and instantly regretted it. Standing amongst the silver strands of waning moonlight, he seemed to call to her – her mind and body. And it took all of her strength not to answer.

###

He’d stumbled from his bed to relieve himself, eager to return to the warmth of his blankets. Her silhouette had caught his eye and beckoned him to her side.

Seeing her without her veils brought him up short. While he’d been rewarded with a teasing glimpse now and then, he’d never had the opportunity to soak her in. He could not have anticipated how it would feel to look upon her.

In the pale cast of the moon, she appeared as an ethereal nymph. Her honey tresses spilled over her shoulders. The long line of her ivory neck arched as she looked up at him. Her face was…

He swallowed. There was nothing more lovely on this earth. He knew it.

“Mayhap the moon, or her Goddess Selene, was calling to me?” Her question, tinged with a hint of sadness, roused him. And when she turned her huge blue eyes upon him, he swallowed the knot in his throat to answer.

“Perhaps. It is not yet dawn.” He could find nothing else to say.

Her face softened as a small smile formed. But her gaze wandered from his and her brow furrowed.

If only he knew how to cheer her.

Master Galenus’ herder, old Nikolaos, had regaled the guards with quite a tale. Galenus’ home had an unexpected visit from two witches, witches known to this house. They had come with a dire message for the master and his niece, traveling from Corfu to deliver it. While Nikolaos only alluded to the contents of the message, he made it clear that its portent had been most upsetting.

Ariston had no means to learn the rest of it. If he’d sought the whole of it from Nikolaos, the old man might have grown suspicious. He knew no one else in Galenus’ household, as Galenus refused to acknowledge their presence on his property.

It was not his place to ask his mistress. No matter how much he wanted to help her, he’d hold his tongue.

Athena decreed him her protector. He must hold to that, honor his station. Whatever else she might stir within him was a temptation to resist.