Medusa, A Love Story (Loves of Olympus 1)

Her stomach tightened as the thick grey mist filled the temple, swallowing everything – except her.

She shifted, tending to the flickering candles before they sputtered out. She had no desire to be swallowed by this fog and the blanket of night. She pulled the heavy ceremonial robes tightly about her, and yet she felt strangely exposed to a new presence – one she sensed but had yet to see. She shivered as she spun about, searching out the cause of her discomfort.

“You are Medusa?” a deep voice spoke, a voice she did not know.

She had not seen anyone enter the temple, nor did she hear any footsteps on the marble floor. Yet there was someone here, with her.

“I am.” Her voice wavered.

A soft chuckle bounced off the walls as a man stepped from the fog. He looked at her, intently. “Of course you are.”

Medusa stepped back as he approached.

He was handsome – more handsome than any man she’d ever seen. Laughing eyes, the palest blue, widened as they inspected her. He sounded amused when he asked, “You are her priestess?” He chuckled again. “No wonder Athena would keep you.”

“Do I know you, sir?” No. She would have remembered such a face, angular and fierce, demanding of attention. From the breadth of his chest and the confident air of his stance, he was not a man to trifle with or forget.

His eyes traveled over her again. “No, lady, you do not.” He paused, adding, “Not yet.”

She stiffened under the heat of his gaze, speaking coolly. “Have you brought a tribute for the Goddess?”

One side of the man’s mouth elevated. “I come with no offering.”

No matter his odd manner, this man was in Athena’s house and she must welcome him. “Your prayers are offering enough. On a night such as this, with the feasts of Anestheria, you are most loyal to the Goddess.”

“I am not a pilgrim and I have no prayers for Athena.” He did not move, and yet he was suddenly before her. So close that she could feel his breath upon her face. “I come for you.”

Medusa stepped back, unsettled all the more. Alarm gripped her. But here, protected within Athena’s temple, she had no reason to fear. Did she?

He smiled, his voice cajoling, “You’ve been loyal to Athena, to Athens, these many years?”

“I have.” She fought the urge to shiver.

“And you’re happy to serve as a priestess?” His voice was husky, mocking. “Serving your Goddess?”

The fog grew, rising high and encircling them. It clung to him, she noted, swirling about his shoulders like a vaporous cloak. His eyes narrowed as he waited for her answer.

She nodded, unease flooding her. Yes, she should fear this man.

His lips curved into a dazzling smile. “Have you not wanted more?”

Her voice trembled. “What more is there? To serve the Goddess is enough, sir.”

“There is more – much more. And I would give it to you.”

Medusa stepped back again, knowing the temple wall was close behind her.

“I would give you your heart’s desire, sweet Medusa.” His voice was entreating.

She looked at him, wary. Was this a test? “I am the Goddess Athena’s until she releases me. It is my heart’s desire to serve her.”

The man looked at the temple altar, his eyes narrowing further. “Arranging treats? Discarding those Athena casts off? Hiding yourself from the eyes of those who would feast upon your beauty? This is your heart’s desire?” His voice coaxed, tempting her.

No, her heart cried out. No. She did want more. She wanted Ariston. By the Gods, she wanted to be his. She wanted to love him, and have him love her. Her heart twisted and her cheeks colored.

This was not the time for such realizations – surely. She could not lie. But she dared not speak the truth. So she said only, “It is an honor to serve Athena.”

“Yet you do not answer my question.” A slow smile pulled up the corner of his mouth, his gaze seeming to beckon her. “You do want more. I see it on your face. Come with me. Leave this place and come away, woman.”