The Heart of Love

CHAPTER FIVE

Two Thousand Years Ago

Olympus, Greece

Eros

He touched her, made her cry, blares through my head as my hand tightens on the guard's throat, crushing his larynx, snarling, "You dare."

Does he not know who she belongs to? He dares cross a god!

He growls, struggling in my iron grip, but it takes little of my strength to keep him there even as his legs flail and try to hit me or gain purchase on the wall behind him, he gasps brokenly, "Who the fuck are you?"

My lips curls back from my teeth in a deadly snarl and my grip only tightens, "I didn't give you permission to speak, or breath," from the corner of my eyes, I see the torn gown and I hear her tears all over again, "You'll die for touching her."

She belongs to me, no other. His eyes go wide, bulging from their sockets, his legs kicking even harder. A film of rage is clouding my vision, and I can see only her eyes spilling tears, his touch on her skin. He deserves to die for doing so, he deserves to be erased from this realm of existence. For every atom that composes his fetid appearance and soul, obliterated.

Then the soft touch of her hand on my arm stops me, her voice, still broken and ragged with tears, "N-no don't."

My grip loosens on his neck almost compulsively at her touch, because in the darkest recesses of my mind, I don't want her to see me like this. This...this isn't me, this anger, this rage...this is my father.

My voice is harsh, closer to a snarl, "He touched you. He deserves to meet Skelly."

In my head I can see Thanatos - whom I've always called Skelly - sitting on the banks of the Styx when I arrive with the soul of this man. Tossing him at the God of Death's feet, I can hear his voice in my head, It is not your job to pick who lives and who dies, Eros. It is mine.

Even then...my grip tightens on the guards neck.

Psyche wipes the tears from her face with her free hand, her other remaining on my arm, does she know that her touch is the only thing that is keeping me from killing him? From removing his head from his body? From drenching myself in his blood?

"W-who?"

The guard's face is turning blue from lack of oxygen, his mouth gaping repeatedly like a fish, "Nyxie's son waits for him..." not your job, Eros, "...I'll send him early."

Tick tock, Eros, Tick tock.

The guard's eyes roll into the back of his head, close to dying, close to suffocating, close to paying with his life for the crime he has committed. But then...Psyche turns away from me, her hand drops from my arm.

The calm that suffused me with her touch and her eyes vanishes, and a moment of suspended time passes between the three of us.

Do you want to be the monster of myth? Are you nothing but a savage? A brute? Are you no better than the man who touched her? Who would have forced her? If you do this. You will be the same.

My hand loosens and I release the guard, his body dropping heavily to the ground, his hacking cough as air forces its way back into his lungs the only thing that breaks the careful silence between us.

My eyes are on Psyche when I snarl, "You will run. You will never show your face in this kingdom again, if you dare to force yourself on another, if you even think it....I will find you. And you will wish I had just killed you."

He continues his hacking cough though he nods, half crawling and half stumbling from the room, leaving me alone with Psyche.

She turns back to me at the sound of the door shutting, her eyes huge in her face, the trails of tears still present, "Y-you didn't kill him. He will get the others...you need to go."

She comes back over to me, and again her touch soothes me, the lingering need to hunt down the guard vanishes like a leaf in the breeze, but I'm not satisfied with just her touch on my arms. I need to make sure she's alright, I just...I need her.

Pulling her into my chest, I wrap my arms around her tightly, inhaling her scent, even as I murmur, "I should have killed him. Why didn't I kill him?"

My hand finds her back, rubbing it soothingly, murmuring to her softly, I'm not even sure what I say to her, for some reason I sense she needs to hear my voice, that silence right now might make her break even more.

Even with that, her body loses its tension, like what held her together vanished suddenly, a whisp in the air. Her hands wrap around my toga on my chest, grasping it, her body shaking as the tears come.

It's almost as if she trusts me.

With my arms locked around her, the only reason she's still standing upright is my arms wrapped around her, "I got you, you're safe."

I continue to rub her back, rocking her gently, trying to remember what my mother used to do for me as a child, what used to comfort me.

"H-he almost..." she sobs into my chest.

He did. If I hadn't been here....I can't even think about what almost happened.

Pulling back from her slightly, I cup her chin gently, making her eyes meet mine, making her focus on me. For a fleeting moment, I wish she could actually see me, that I'm not just a shadow to her eyes. That she could actually see my eyes shining with sincerity, "But he didn't. You're okay, you're safe. You're with me," her eyes on mine make me feel that deep yank in my soul, "You're...with...me...."

Our eyes lock on each other and her tears slowly dry, "You saved...me."

Because you're mine. Princissika, I can't explain it, but you feel like...mine.

I lower my head, pressing my forehead to hers, hearing the distant din of the approaching guards, "I have to go."

She shakes her head slightly, and her hands tighten on my toga, "D-don't..."

It breaks me a little to know that I have to leave her, I want to stay and make sure she's safe, but I can't.

"I should have killed him, but..." I didn't want you to be scared of me.

Pulling back from her, I wipe her tears from her face, adjusting her toga to cover her, even as I hear the guards beginning to bang on the doors, but I don't want to let go of her, but I have to.

"C-come back tomorrow?" She whispers harshly, her voice still raw from the event.

Try to stop me, princess.

Laughing softly, I trace my hand over her cheek, whispering, "I will."

Dropping my hand from her, I sprint for the window, jumping through, waiting for that feeling of falling before letting my wings snap out and soar away.