Destined (46 page)

His eyes grew wide as he turned to me, clutching my fingers tighter. “Marry me, Psyche? Please?”

“Consider your decision before you choose, Psyche.” Zeus’s sage voice startled me.
Why wouldn’t I choose to be with him?
“Loving an immortal is a commitment for eternity — not just
 
a few decades.” He smiled at Hera before continuing. “And I must warn you, our Olympian family is a little, shall we say, dysfunctional from time-to-time.”

“I can handle dysfunctional.”

“And eternity? With me?” Eros drew my attention back to him, pulling at my heart like a lasso.

“I can’t imagine anything better.”

Eros dropped my hands and clasped my face, drawing me into him. He kissed me like he was trying to drink me in. When I pulled away, breathless, we rested our foreheads together.
 

“Love you.” I smiled up at him.

He tucked an errant curl behind my ear. “And I love you.”

“We still don’t have an agreement yet,” Zeus cut in, invading the momentary bliss. “I have a condition of my own.”

I felt the blush rising to my cheeks as I stared at my feet.

Eros answered. “Sire?”

“You are never, ever to use your arrows on me again. Are we clear on that?”

Eros swallowed. “Absolutely, my King. I was young, and impulsive —”

Zeus waved away the words with a stroke of his hand. “Never mind excuses. Just promise me … on Psyche’s life.”

Eros looked at me, then back at Zeus. “On Psyche’s life, I promise never to shoot you again.”

Zeus strolled back to his throne and reclined. “Good. And one more thing,”

We waited in silence for the king to speak. Waited for him to make some demand Eros couldn’t agree to.

“I think my wife would prefer you use your arrows only for true love. No more affairs. Your mother’s realm of passion is strong enough without any extra help.”

Hera moved in close to her husband and kissed his forehead. “Thank you, Love.”

Zeus reached up and grabbed her tiny hand in his, pressing her fingertips to his lips. “Anything for you,” he replied, his pale sea-glass eyes nearly pouring over with emotion.

As the two of them radiated love, the feeling permeated the air. I turned to Eros, encircling his neck in my arms. My heart ached at the thought of just
seeing
him as I held him in my arms every day, I wanted it so badly.

I might have stayed wrapped up in him forever, but Hera broke the spell by clapping twice. Her signal brought a bevy of nymphs dancing in from another room, carrying with them overflowing plates of fruit and pitchers spilling a syrupy liquid.

One girl handed out golden cups to everyone while another followed behind, filling the glasses. “Cheers,” Zeus said, raising his glass.
 

Hera raised her glass to me. “Welcome to Olympus, Psyche.”

Eros smiled so broadly that his adorable little dimple peeked out from his cheek. His crystal blue eyes danced as we intertwined elbows and drank.

The ambrosia coursed down my throat like liquid warmth, filling me. As the heat spread, running into my fingers and tingling my toes, my skin itched with tiny jolts of lightning. I was simultaneously numb and more alive than I’d ever been before.

Eros’s arm curled around my waist to steady me as I swayed, eyes closed. Absorbing the energy of immortal life wasn’t what I’d expected. It was better and worse in one wonderful, overwhelming instant. When my eyes fluttered open again, I felt almost normal. But stronger. Like I could run from Olympus down to the tip of the Peloponnese and never tire.

And I was ready to focus the buzz of my new-found immortal energy on Eros.

As I reached up to put my arm around his neck, my dress pulled at my arm, not giving me enough room to move. I looked down at myself and saw the dress no longer fit right. It was pulled tight against my chest, cutting deep into the skin under my arms.

“What in the world?”

“Allow me,” Eros said, unfastening the clasp at my shoulder that was holding my dress up.

My eyes widened as I glared at him. “Not right here,” I whispered in a panic, nodding my head toward Zeus and Hera. “There are people here.”

Eros rolled his eyes and chuckled before kissing my nose. “Lighten up, will you?”

Without exposing my chest, Eros let the dress fall open in the back. Free from the constraints of the dress, a pair of magnificent blue butterfly wings unfurled from my back. They were nearly indigo in their richness and outlined with a delicate, lace-like black trim.

I craned my neck and arched my back, straining to get a better look at the new attachments. “I don’t understand…” I said, scowling in confusion at the beautiful wings.

“Your love gave you wings, Psyche,” Hera said, waving her hand through the air and fluttering her fingers as she spoke. “Now go. Fly together. I’ll see you at the next Council meeting.”

Eros held my dress in the back to keep it from falling off as we left. We half skipped, half flew out of the palace as I tested my new wings.

I was so enthralled with the prospect of flying, that I didn’t notice Aphrodite blocking our path until we’d nearly slammed into her.

Eros yanked my dress back to help me stop and we both giggled as I barely got my balance in time. Surprisingly, Aphrodite looked just as amused as we were.

“I thought I might find you here,” she said before wrapping me in her arms.

Yeah, totally lost. I thought we were basically mortal enemies. She had tried to kill me on more than one occasion after all.

“Mother,” Eros barked. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you need to forget it. You won’t hurt her ever again.”

Aphrodite never bothered looking at her son. “I know.” Her smile poured over me like liquid sunshine. “Finally, something works out the way I’d planned.”

“This?” I asked. “You planned on all of this?”

“I’m sorry, dear, but you were more mortal than not,” she said. “And mortals are nothing if not predictable.”

Closing my eyes was the only way to make my brain focus. She’d planned all this? How? Why?

Her hand tightened on my shoulder. “When you two seemed bent on refusing each other, I
had
to come up with a Plan B.” She leaned in close, a co-conspirator sharing a secret. “My son may have told you, but I generally get what I want.”

Eros’s feathers ruffled. “So why try to kill her? If you wanted us to be together?”

“Don’t you see? I didn’t
want
her dead or she would be. What I wanted was for you to realize how much you still loved her. Forcing you to save her from the soldiers worked perfectly.”

Eros slipped his hand into mine. “And sending her to Hades? What’d you get out of that?”

“You mean other than a little retribution for refusing my Plan A?” Aphrodite eyed us both pointedly. “I got proof of Psyche’s love. She was willing to risk death for you, son. And now no one, not even Psyche’s sister, will be able to take that truth away from you.”

The feeling of being Aphrodite’s puppet was unsettling, but I couldn’t argue with the end result. Eros and I were together, immortal, and we both knew with unwavering certainty how deeply our love flowed. I guessed this was one of those times where the ends justify the means. Even if they were pretty sucky means.

Leaning forward, I kissed her cheek. “In that case, thank you. For everything.”

“You can save your mother-daughter bonding for later,” Eros said, gently squeezing my fingers. “There’s something I want you to see now.”

A smile pulled at my lips until my cheeks almost ached. “What is it?”

“Our new life.”

Epilogue - Psyche

The dream wakes me up again. It’s been the same three nights in a row. My sister dissolves into dust and bone before my eyes and I never get the chance to tell her I’m sorry for all that happened between us. And I know someday that will happen. She will die and I will not. But before that day comes, I will apologize to her. Assuming she lets me anywhere near her.

The more I wake though, the easier it is to forget the one problem that’s followed me into immortality. As I lay curled on my side in bed, I can feel the sun’s warm fingers worming in through the cracks in the shutters, tugging at my heavy eyelids. Eros and I may be able to have our days together now, but it’s not like we’ve abandoned the night either.

“Good morning, Love.” His voice curls through the fog of sleep, rousing me with the delight of knowing it’ll be his face I see when my eyes open.

His face I see. I love this moment in the morning. Drinking in his features, quietly, without pressure or time constraints, and when no one in the world save for him sees my thirsty eyes.

“You scare me with that look,” he says.

A scowl cracks my contentment.
He’s scared of me?

“Not like that,” he says, kissing my nose as he props himself on an elbow. “The love in your eyes burns so bright. I’m afraid someday it’ll burn out. That you’ll wake up and realize eternity with me isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

Chuckling at him, I close my eyes and sigh. “Funny, isn’t it?” I say, snuggling in close to his chest.

“What?” He sounds confused, but his voice is still gentle, loving.

“I always believed my mother when she said, ‘
you cannot escape what is destined
.’ But here I am.” I give him a squeeze. “I guess she was wrong.”

“Psyche,” he says, and the intensity of his voice makes my eyes flutter open again. “Your mother wasn’t wrong. You are my destiny.”

Acknowledgements

Where to begin?
 
There are so many people who helped my dream for Destined become a reality.

My loving husband, Holt, who never once complained when I used my evenings to write instead of hangout with him, and who has helped me make my guy voices more authentic.
 
Holt, your quiet yet unwavering support has meant everything to me.
 

My daughters, who “graciously” went to sleep every night at 8 pm so I could have at least 2 hours of writing time in the evenings.