The Heart of Love

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Two Thousand Years Ago

Delphi, Greece

Eros

Fucking Delphi, of course its fucking Delphi. Any other Oracle in the world I could have persuaded, cajoled, even threatened. But Delphi. It's different. All Oracles claim to be touched by my uncle Apollo, god of prophecies, but only one is actually. And that's the Pythia at Delphi.

An added side note? She fucking despises me.

Want to know why? Because I fuck up her visions, Love is and always will be unpredictabe and apparently, it is such with the Pythia. I've been banned from the entire Temple by my uncle Apollo even before the whole Daphne incident. Fuck, fuckity, fuck, fuck.

It takes me little time to soar to the temple, landing in the shadows of the temple. From the shadows, I see my uncle leave the back route, likely having just discussed something with Pythia herself, before returning to his own temple on the mountain. Calming myself, I shift into his form, he's beloved enough by mortals, to allow me too. Walking to the back of the temple, I see the hidden entrance, slipping inside, already choking on the smoke.

The Oracle's back is to me, and she's focusing on lighting more incense in the dark room, praying softly.

"I know it's you," She murmurs, "You had to know that I'd see through that guise."

I freeze, because I'm actually surprised, I hadn't counted on that, "I don't know what you mean."

The Pythia glances over her shoulder at me, her gaze is an eerie swirl of white, and I know that even though it looks like her mind is present, it is in fact, somewhere in the future.

"Though I may be blind to your actions, Eros, I have realized that when I have an unexpected encounter, there can only be one cause - your interference."

She's learned to see the future even when it's blank, I would be impressed if I wasn't still a little on edge from knowing that Psyche's father is on his way here.

"Listen, Pythia, I need...help." the words scalded like acid from my tongue - I'm a god, I don't need anyone's help - yet, I'm...here begging her.

Her swirling white gaze drifts over my shoulder, "Oh? I thought I was a degenerate hack who got high off of all the vapors that flood through my temple?"

I wince as she throws those words back to me, "I...I'm sorry, I was trying to hurt you."

She blows out the incense in her hand, waving it in the air, a trail of slender purple smoke rising from it, "You succeeded. Why have you come?" She laughs slightly to herself, "I don't think I've ever had to ask that question before."

Because she usually already knows why they have come, "There's a man, he's coming to see you soon..."

Her back turns to me again, looking at the bowl in front of her, smiling softly into its depths, "King Astanayx of Sardinia," she pauses for a moment, frowning into the bowl, "He's coming to ask about his daughter."

She looks over her shoulder at me, her fiery brows pulling down over her eyes, "A daughter who has suddenly vanished from my sight? Care to explain?"

Not really.

Sighing, I move to her side at the table, dropping the guise of my uncle, appearing as myself at her side.

"I...I've been spending time with her, the daughter," I stutter out, it's hard for me to explain this to Pythia, especially since it's, well... it's the first time I've said it out loud to anyone.

I can feel her eyes on me, swirling, trying to read my future. Her brows furrow, eyes slitting at me when she comes up empty. Her voice is cold, and my breath catches in my chest, this mortal knows, my fate is in her hands.

"She doesn't know who you are, does she?"

"I thought you couldn't see my future?" I croak, pressing my hand to my throat, surprised at the sound of my own voice.

Pythia folds her hands in front of her, tilting her head to the side, mocking me, "I don't have to, Eros, it's written all over your face. You...care for this girl, don't you?"

My mouth goes dry, the word no, unable to pass my lips, so I dance, "A god caring for a mortal? That's insane."

And it is insane. I'm crazy to try for something between Psyche and I. But...I think I'm in love with her.

Fuck.

Pythia must have seen me blanch, because she laughs coldly, "This is rich. I sense Nemesis's fine hand in this. You, in all your arrogance and disdain for the lives you toy with for sport, are in love with a mortal."

My teeth clench, and my jaw twitches repeatedly, "Watch your words, Oracle or they will be your last."

She sneers at me openly, her lips curling and I'm across the room in a flash, my hand on her throat tightening around it. "You forget who you're dealing with."

Instead of fear, she laughs, "No, you forget. You need me or the little princess remains out of your reach."

My hand tightens snarling at her, and her gaze locks on me, challenging me. And I can't do it.

She wins.

Dropping my hand from her throat, I step away, looking down, ashamed of the words I'm about to utter. The things I'm about to ask.

"Will you help me?"

Gods, that feels unfamiliar. I've never had to ask for help before.

Pythia straights her robes, looking me up and down slowly, "There will need to be payment."

This could get tricky.

"Of course, what do you have in mind?" I ask coolly, trying to cover my sweaty palms on my toga.

Her lips twist cruelly, "Oh, I do believe I'll take a page from your book, a favor, no questions asked, redeemable at my choosing."

Fuck. There's a reason I ask for that from people, because I usually use it to take something from them that they're unwilling to part with otherwise.

"There must be something else I can offer..."

"That is my price," she snaps back, and my hands tighten into fists.

"You'll insure that...she is mine?" I hate having to beg.

"She will be, if you agree."

Closing my eyes, I pull up Psyche's face in my mind, remembering why I'm doing this, "Done."

My eyes open, and the Pythia smiles evilly, a shiver of foreboding shooting down my spine.

What did I just agree to?