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Authors: Lisa Beth Darling

The Heart of War (56 page)

BOOK: The Heart of War
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Alena was standing in the middle of the throne room practicing with the Staff when Ares burst through the entrance to the cave. He brushed right past her and plopped himself down on his throne of Bones. Angrily he turned toward the hearth and caused the fire to spring so high that it shot out into the throne room, threatening to catch it ablaze. Ares paid no attention to the threatening flames as he grabbed up the waiting pitcher of Nectar and drank straight from it in an effort to clear his throat of the horrid oily slag. Nectar spilled down his chin where droplets clung to his beard while others ran down his chest and over the vest as he drank the pitcher dry. “Bring me another!” The God of War threw the heavy gold pitcher at her. “Food! Bring me food! I’m starving!”

“Yes, my Lord.”

“Not you, you stupid Celt!” Ares shouted at Alena. “Onya! Aryanna!” he bellowed. The women scampered down the stairs as fast as they could. Onya grabbed up the empty pitcher from Alena’s hands while Aryanna ran off to the kitchen.

Ares’ head lolled on his shoulders until it rolled in Alena’s direction and he gazed at her with eyes that would have frozen lava in its tracks. “What are you doing with that thing?”

“Trying to make it work,” she mumbled with a heavy sigh. “I’m ok at this part.” Alena showed him a few of her moves with the weapon but couldn’t tell what he thought as his expression didn’t change. “But I can’t conjure the magick out of it.”

“That’s because there’s no magick in the Staff, the magick is in the User. The Staff is just a focal mechanism, a way to direct the magick, but it’s powerless on its own,” Ares sneered. “You have to summon the magick within yourself, not rely on that stupid rod to do it for you.”

Onya and Aryanna returned from the kitchen with Nectar and a silver tray heavily laden with meats, cheeses, breads, olives, figs, and grapes. Standing in front of him as she handed him the new pitcher of Nectar Onya spoke to him. “Do you require anything else, my Lord?”

Again, not bothering with a chalice, Ares held the pitcher to his full lips while keeping his eye on Onya and drinking deeply. Swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he stared at her with open lust. “In a little while, I’ll come see you. Be ready for me. Go now.”

Even though she should be glad for his words, Alena felt her heart sink. She hadn’t expected anything less from Ares but she had hoped for it. Ares had certain needs and no single woman could fill them for him. Not even her it seemed. Her hands folded around her lower abdomen as she tried not to think of Ares in bed with Onya. With a strange, nearly apologetic look on her face, Onya passed Alena by without a word. “Did I displease you so much last night, my Lord?”

“I’ve told you, I prefer a more experienced woman in my bed. I am not in a mood to teach tonight. My patience is thin.”

“So I see,” Alena said boldly. “Perhaps I should seek experience in another man’s bed before I return to yours?”

“Perhaps in Eros’ bed, hmmm?” Those cold eyes bore straight through her. “Why do you stand so far away from me? Is it because his scent still lingers on you? Is that why you’re still wearing the dress he gave you, to cover his tracks?”

“No,” Alena whispered, trying to hold his icy stare. She’d had other things on her mind since Ares sealed the entrance to the cave and her wardrobe just hadn’t been on the list. “I told you nothing happened.”

“Then where is my warm welcome home?” Ares held his hand out to her.

“You don’t appear to want one, not from me anyway,” Alena mumbled.

Ares let out a long heavy sigh. “I know, it has been a long few days, hmm? I have not been myself, I have been distracted. My trip to the Underworld has left me even more so than before. I have been unkind to you, which I deeply regret. It has…left a scar upon my heart.” The flat of his big palm landed on his broad chest for emphasis. Hands down, Ares was one of the world’s best bullshit artists. This was no exception. “I have been a brute and a fool; I know you would never betray me. Come to me, my dear Alena, ease my heart and my soul with your touch and let me beg for your forgiveness.”

Alena spent the day confused and frightened, wanting only to be close to the man she loved. To be in his arms, in his bed, wrapped up safe and warm below him without pain or fear, that was where she wanted to spend her life. “I’m sorry this has been difficult on you. I’ve brought so much trouble into your life.” Alena stumbled her way over to him where she took his hand. Ares raised it to his lips, gave her a smile as he kissed it, and then yanked her in close to him. Startled she let out a little cry and tried to keep her balance but Alena crashed into his lap, suddenly caught between his strong thighs.

“Did Eros return while I was away?” Ares took in a long deep breath to get the scent of her, sweet honeysuckle with a heavy touch of Eros. Ares yanked her head backward so that he could look at her face when she answered.

“No, of course he didn’t.” Even if he had, how would he get in? “You can ask Onya and the other women.”

“Who would undoubtedly lie for you.”

She’s lying.
Push her down. She let Eros touch her. Take a sniff between her legs. See what you find there. I bet his spunk is still fresh on her thighs.

“Perhaps I should take you upstairs and teach you tonight. A very difficult lesson, about being caught naked in the rain with my Son.” Before he knew what he was doing, Ares reached down, grabbed up a handful of the gown, and pulled it up to the small of her back before forcing it back down between her legs.

“Ares?”

He didn’t hear her. Thick fingers pried her outer and inner lips apart before sliding inside. He didn’t hear the whimper she let out as he probed her but he felt her cringe and it made him smile. While Ares felt nothing but the slickness of her, he thought it best to be sure, taking his fingers out of her he raised them to his nose where he passed them back and forth, as he took in a deep breath.

“Satisfied?” Alena asked in a quivering voice.

Eros’ scent was not here. Whatever that voice was, it was wrong. “Yes. For now.” Although he still had the urge to just shove her to the ground and take what he wanted, Ares forced himself to let go of Alena. He watched her scrambled to her feet and away from him.

“If there’s nothing else, my Lord, I’ll leave to your evening with Onya,” Alena said quickly and fled from the room and the God of War, grabbing the Staff from the table as she went. She ran down the hall to her own room where she locked the door against him.

2

Feeling edgy and disappointed with himself, Ares plodded up to his chamber where he threw the vest, shirt and sword to the floor before parting the doors on the wall and going into the rustic bathroom. After using the hole in the rock to empty his bladder of all the Nectar he had taken in, Ares turned around to the stone basin and the hand pump. Swiftly pumping cold water into the basin, he caught sight of himself in the mirror as he splashed the blessedly cold water on his bearded face. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked his reflection, glad to see that and only that in his mirror. Deep in thought and lost in his own reflection, Ares hardly heard her when Onya spoke from the doorway.

“You wanted to see me tonight, my Lord?” The young woman felt very strange about being here tonight. She liked Alena, she loved the idea of Ares and Alena being in love and starting a family, she didn’t want to be the cause of ruin for that lovely little image.

“So I did,” Ares said to his reflection more than to the woman not four feet away from him. “Come here.”

Wishing he had changed his mind, Onya stepped into the room and walked up to him. She ran her hand along his bare arm and tried to smile for him. There was something very wrong with Ares tonight and she was not looking forward to being in his bed. “What can I do for you?”

“We’ll find out.” Ares picked Onya up off her feet and sat her down on the edge of the stone basin in front of him. Once settled he pushed her legs apart with his knee. “I know it hasn’t been long but…have you missed me, dear Onya?”

“Yes.” Onya and the other women missed him already but they all agreed they would not complain if it meant the two lovebirds would be happy. They would be content to live out their lives here as nothing more than ordinary servants to the God of War and his Queen. Running the tip of her finger in the deep crevice between his pecs, she looked up at him and whispered, “Are you sure about this, my Lord? Alena…”

“Alena is not my Wife.” Ares shoved Onya’s hand down between his legs to encase his exposed cock. With the other hand he pulled Onya’s head back so fast that his knuckles smashed into the mirror and fractured it, showing him two Ares in return. The shards cut the back of his hand but he paid no attention to the seeping wound, instead going for Onya’s bared throat. His lips fell on the nape of her neck while the hand holding hers to his cock reached up and grabbed a rough hold of Onya’s breast, when it had securely between his fingers, he bit down on her neck like a vampire.

Every single fiber of his considerable being wanted to throw Onya to the ground and fuck her like a maniac. Yet, no matter how much he ground against her or how Onya groped him, Ares was left with one rather large problem; he was not rising to the occasion. That very disturbing problem was heretofore unknown to the God of War. Perhaps a little more oomph was in order. Giving her hair another harsh yank, Ares freed his fingers from it and brought the hand down to join the other at her breasts. Grabbing hold of the small patch of fur between those heaving mounds Ares tore the top in two and shoved it off her until her bare breasts pressed against his hot flesh and his fingers sunk deep in her soft tender skin.

Heat. Desire. Animal Lust. They all rose within him.

Yet, the outer part still refused to comply as Onya’s expert hands kneaded and massaged him from shrunken tip to bulging balls. “Get on your knees,” Ares hissed as he tossed the small woman from the basin to the floor at his feet and pushed his flaccid cock to her lips. Onya complied although he felt her heart was not in it. Her mouth opened, her tongue wrapped around him and she began to suckle and then to pump and suck harder. Still his hungry cock refused to obey his body’s wishes. “Harder!”

Onya’s head slid back and forth, as she took him all the way into her mouth and tried her best to bring him to arousal. At first she thought there was something wrong with her; there was definitely something wrong with him tonight, that much was obvious to anyone within earshot today. Ares grabbed the back of her head again, he pushed her mouth further down on him until her nose was buried in that coarse patch of hair between his legs so hard it was difficult to draw in breath. With growing force, the God of War yanked Onya by the hair pulling her toward him, pushing her away, while his hips slammed into her face over and over.

Nothing.

After ten minutes of sheer and utter frustration, Ares pulled her away from him and pushed Onya to the ground. “Useless,” he spat as he stepped over her on his way out of the small bathroom.

Just as relief began to wash over Onya, a terrible thought struck her. “Where are you going?” she called after him.

“To my Queen. I fear now she is the only woman who can satisfy my needs. All of them. And she will.”

“Wait.” Onya didn’t know what was wrong with him tonight, but he was off the wall, bound to do anything to anyone. If he went too far and in an uncontrollable fit of lust inadvertently killed the woman he professed to love, Ares would never forgive himself. “Don’t go, my Lord. Come back, let me try again.”

Ares turned back to see her still on the floor, he got down on his knees next to her. “I’m sorry, dear Onya. It seems you and the other women are superfluous. Don’t you know that when a wolf finally chooses his mate, he is with her and only her for the rest of his life?”

“You do love her,” Onya whispered hopefully. “Whatever’s wrong, please, leave her alone. She loves you; don’t take this out on her.”

Yes, that was good advice but Ares knew he would not heed it.

As he turned back to the door, Onya scrambled to her feet but she was too late to stop him. Ares sealed the door behind him. “She’s pregnant!” Onya screamed to the thick cold stone. “Ares! Don’t!”

3

Alena was at her wit’s end, she didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t even sure just what was happening. Was it a Curse or just Ares? Behind the false safety of a locked door with a chair jammed beneath the knob, she sat on her bed with the Staff between her knees, thinking about telling Ares she believed he was cursed, and then she snorted a laugh. That was bound to go over really well, wasn’t it? If he was truly cursed, then by now who was to say that curse hadn’t shattered all of his trust in her? Why would he believe her? She could try to find a way to meet with Zeus or Hera and enlist their assistance, but how? Alena didn’t feel that standing out there on the beach was going to do the trick, though it might bring Eros. What use he could be she had no idea.

“You? What good are you?” Alena asked the Staff in a disdainful voice. “You’re about as useless as I am.”

Ares said the magick wasn’t in the Staff. It was in her. If he was right then fat lot of good that did all of them. Being only half Fey, Alena simply felt that she did not possess the necessary skills or power needed to make the Staff work. Perhaps if she stood up that would be better, so she did. Alena rose to her feet and held the Staff firmly at her right side. If nothing else, it was sturdy wood, she could always hit Ares with it, probably break it over his fat head. With her left hand, she hit her left temple. “Stop it, just stop that,” Alena told herself. “I love him. I know he loves me. There has to be a way out of this.”

The hand holding the Staff felt a very low hum, so low at first she didn’t even notice it and then began to think her hand was going numb. The more she thought of Ares and how deeply in love with him she was, the stronger the hum grew until gave out the sensation of touching a low-volt electrical wire; not quite enough to pull the hand away but more than enough to feel it.

Suddenly she heard heavy footsteps approaching the door. The knob turned but being locked the door did not open. It turned again with more force and upward thrust, the old metal knob jiggled in its socket as the wood creaked before buckling and the door came off its hinges. There was Ares naked and seething. He began to charge at her, taking long strides while he outstretched his hand to grab for her. Every muscle in his body strained as his olive skin reddened head to toe and the cock that had been so uncooperative now stood to full attention and then some.

BOOK: The Heart of War
9.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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