The Heart of Love

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Two Thousand Years Ago

Olympus, Greece

Eros

Brushing Psyche's hair back from her face, kissing her sleeping face. Slowly disentangling our limbs, she still reaches out for me, pulling me back to her. Moving my pillow, I place it in her grasping arms, allowing me to get out of bed when she wraps her arms around it.

Grabbing a robe, I wrap it around myself, yanking the tie tightly around my waist. Padding out of the bedroom, my anger still high, following me as I storm down the hallway to the open balcony.

My wings normally sit on my skin, a golden tattoo on my back when I don't need them.  Rolling my shoulders' my wings pull themselves out of my back, they don't rip the robe I'm wearing. They were long ago spelled not to, they slip through my clothes, without ripping it. The white downy feathers shoot out from my back, the very bottom dipped in gold. The limbs are so familiar to me, even when I was a child. I'm the only one of my family that was ever gifted with them. They were mine, all mine.

Just like she is.

When the spread out completely, I bend my knees, launching into the air, my wings catching the air beneath them. Within a few moments, I'm soaring, there's little compared to flying, and in a few minutes I'm back at my apartments in Olympus.

The cold marble on my bare feet, grabbing the bag on my desk, loaned to me by its guardian, Aeolus. Gritting my teeth, I close my eyes, summoning them back to me.

"My lord?" Zephyrus asks, "We thought you would be with your lady."

There's a slight tremble in his usually stiff voice and I can guess why.

He knows why I summoned them.

Slowly rotating on my heel, I address the four gods, my voice a dangerous snarl, "Now, why, does my wife know your names?"

They all freeze, not breathing, not moving.

"Yes, and suddenly my incredibly clever wife has made the deduction that she is married to a god, how do you suppose she came to such a conclusion, hm?"

They suddenly break their silence, clamoring over each other, as they always did.

"She had a hunch," Boreas states.

"About who we were," Eurus explains.

"She is clever, your wife," Zephyrus observes.

"And fast, very, very fast," Notus laughs shakily.

"She said, 'Notus, what's your favorite color?' And like an infant, he answered," Boreas explains.

"I wasn't thinking!"

"Clearly," Eurus snorts.

"It was an accident, my lord," Zephyrus attempts.

My eyes slit on their wind forms, growling, "What use do I have for you now, a single day in her company and you've already revealed your divinity to her?"

How long until they slip and she knows who I am? And when she knows that, how long until my mother knows? How long until she takes her revenge against Psyche? How long until she's taken from me? My breath comes faster and faster from my chest, sweat pooling on my palms. Tightening them into fist, it's hard to hear the winds over the roaring in my ears.

"My lord, if I may?" Eurus begins.

"She...needs...friends," Boreas inserts without waiting for permission.

"Friends?!" I sputter.

Notus looks at the other three, "She seems lonely, and she likes talking to us."

Lonely? Already she wants more than I can give. I'm not enough for her to be happy, soon, she'll want more than I can give.

"I think...she needs someone to talk to my lord," Zephyrus speculates.

Someone who isn't you.

"She has me," I whisper.

"Other than you."

I'm already not enough for her. She needs someone who can be there for her in all ways. And I...can't. Not without risking her. Fuck, I'm so selfish. I shouldn't have done this, I should have let her be free.

But then...I wouldn't have her.

Selfish.

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, the winds continue.

"She has gone from surrounded by people, to being alone," this from Boreas.

"She needs us," Eurus adds.

Not you.

"Am I...Fuck, I need your oath on the River Styx, that you will reveal no more about me or why she needs to be protected," I demand, trying to fathom why I'm actually doing this.

Because you want her to be happy with you, and you'll do anything in your power to keep it that way.

There is that.

In unison, the winds reply, "We swear on the River Styx."

A binding oath, gods and mortals alike are unable to break. It is not a thing to take lightly.

Sighing at them, "I'm going back to my wife, for the few hours I have left to be with her."

Turning around, I place Aeolus's bag on the table, releasing the ties, allowing the winds to vanish.

Alone, I run a hand through my hair, looking down at the table in front of me, putting my hands on either side of the bag. I'm in deep now, and the chances of a happy ending for us seems to be further and further away from my grasp.

I should leave her, find a way to erase her memory and put her back at her home, never knowing she was the only love a god would ever know.

Slamming my fist on the table, I squeeze my eyes shut. That's what I should do, that's what anyone else would do, or rather, someone who was selfless would do.

But I'm not selfless, I'm utterly selfish, because I can't let her go.

Opening my eyes, I sprint out the balcony of my apartments, falling from the mountain, my robe plastered to me as I fall. My wings snap out from my back, an instant before I hit the ground, soaring back up, into the sky.

The journey is even faster this time, because I'm moving smoother through the air, and I know she is at the end.

Landing on the same balcony I left, I walk quickly to our bedroom, my wings slowly retract into my back as I do, leaving no trace of their presence on the robe I'm still wearing. At the door to our bedroom, I pause for a moment, pressing my hand on the door. My heart is already pounding in my chest, knowing she's on the other side. I'm just...it's her, it's her for me.

Even though it would be easier if things were different, they're simply not. Grabbing the handle, I push the door open quietly.

She's right where I left her, wrapped tightly around my pillow, her brow furrowed in sleep. Moving to the side of the bed, I slip out of my robe, tossing it on the floor, beginning the process of replacing my pillow with me without awakening her.

Her brow furrows more, clutching it tighter for a moment, refusing to relinquish it. Laying down on the bed next to her, I kiss her fingers, and she slowly relaxes them at my touch. Allowing me to move back into her arms, her cheek resting on my chest.

Finally, I run my hand through her silky dark mane, kissing her forehead. I don't need to sleep, but she does, and I can spend the little time I have with her listening to her breathing.