Psyche

Chapter Twenty-Eight

I slept forever.

For someone who has lived for thousands of years, forever is quite a long time. The concept of forever is so close to my heart, it hurt me. I hate forever. Forever is like chains, keeping me here, me, just me, me alone, while my family is gone.

All gone.

Forever is a lonely word. It is intrinsically singular. It doesn’t matter how good your forever is. It’s lonely. Even living in an afterlife as good as Paradise must get lonely. Or maybe they make you forget what lonely feels like.

Maybe that was why I kept returning to Aphrodite, because I didn’t want to feel lonely. She took away all my feelings, good and bad. She just made me able to live. I know she was fond of me because I could follow orders well, but if anyone else had done it, I would have obeyed. I had lived for so long under my mother and father’s orders; I didn’t know how to live any other way. I could lead. But I didn’t want to command. And you should know the difference by now.

I never thought I would live forever. I may not have known what I was going to do with myself, but I never wanted to live forever. My life revolved around serving my mother, father, the immortals, Canem, my people-then myself. If I’d paid more attention to what I should have done, would we be in this mess?

Would my people be dead?

It’s not far off to say that it’s my fault they’re dead. Isn’t it?

I was killing myself over it. Maybe that was wrong. But it seemed like the right thing to do. It didn’t seem like there was anything else I could do.

It takes a very special person to change a Canem’s mind.

August Park. I thought she was some frivolous human girl. Who knew Psyche and I would cross paths again? I’d pledged myself to the Goddesses, so it shouldn’t have surprised me that I would see them, but Psyche had been put away forever. Aphrodite never told me the story, but I think it was decided unanimously.

I wondered what it was like to be locked inside a human prison.

Shifting would probably be a bitch. Better than being a werewolf though. Mangy beasts.

Then again, it wasn’t as if a wolf could change his claws. You were born what you were for a reason.

My sister Iris taught me that.

***

“Phoenyx!” Iris called, “Come on out of hiding already! I’m don’t want to play anymore! Come on, I’ll do anything, just give me back Mama’s comb!”

I snickered from my perch in one of the trees in the gardens. Iris was just in a huff because she was annoyed I had outsmarted her. That didn’t come often, and I wanted to savor the moment. Maybe if I transformed I could sneak past and-.

“Phoenyx, you should listen to good advice.” A voice in my hair said.

With a shout, I flailed my arms and lost my balance on the branch. Iris conveniently grabbed the comb before I landed hard on the ground, knocking all the air out of my lungs. I coughed, “Ow.”

“Tut, tut.” She scolded, “You should be more on your guard.”

“How did you even find me?” I muttered, brushing leaves from my hair, “I was hiding.”

“You have a really cute, high, girly laugh.” She smirked.

“I do not have a girly laugh.” I snapped.

Iris shrugged and slid off the branch, brandishing the comb with triumph, “I win. You owe me a favor.”

“What?” I asked.