Burn (Ray Series vol. 2)

XVI ~ 16 Years Old

XVI
From the very moment that I laid my eyes on her I knew for sure that I was doomed. It’s almost as if she glows from the inside out, from her long ivory hair to her porcelain skin, to her pale green eyes that shine brighter than anything I’ve ever seen before in my life. Her true beauty doesn’t come from her body, however, but from her enchanting smile, from the small flushes of red on her cheeks and nose, to her soothing – no, healing words. It doesn’t seem to matter at all what she says, I’m always listening, lusting. There’s no denying that she has complete and utter control of my heart, leaving little space for anyone else – which I have no problem with. I don’t ever want to think about anyone else.

She says it’s unnatural for me to care so little for my parent’s death, but to me, there’s really no point in mourning the past. It just holds me back. That’s what they always told me, anyway. If I dared grieve I know I will have disappointed them. To let them bring me down when I’m so close to claiming the throne would be criminal.

Small roses are starting to bloom all throughout my royal gardens, splashes of red peeking through the green. I turn, my eyes fixating on her. Even through the roaring crowd of a celebration, she stands right out. All the other women look almost dull next to her, and I think they know that, too. She turns and our eyes meet, mine beckoning her to come closer. She tucks a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, before excusing herself from the small group of people surrounding her, making her way over to me.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” she asks as she reaches the roses next to me. Keeping my eyes on her I smile a crooked sort of smile.
“Yeah, they are,”
“Nice party, huh?” her eyes look into mine, with a look that seems almost intimidating. My entire soul bows down before them.
“Could be better,” I smirk, earning a small chuckle out her.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be a king!” her cheeks seem a little more flushed than normal as she says that. Is it selfish to think it’s because of me?
“Aphrodite,” I begin, making sure I have her undivided full attention. “You could be my queen, you know that,” her smile falters. “You could have all this!” I motion to the castle behind me, to the flowers that line the gardens. To everything surrounding us. “You could have me,” she looks up at me from behind her long, ivory eyelashes with a look that doesn’t suit her soft face – sadness.
“Ares, I don’t want this,” she says, her words small but stern. My heart stops for a brief moment, wondering if I heard her right.
“I could give you the throne, what more could you possibly ever want?” Aphrodite’s eyes dart quickly, making sure no one is watching.
Quietly she says, “Come with me tomorrow night, I’ll show you,”


Laying in my sheets, my head spins. Do I dare go and meet her tonight? What would I possibly gain from gallivanting in the streets in the dead of night like some sort of hooligan? Although, the thought of her being out there with all of her hooligan friends sends a shiver down my spine. What if someone does something to her? How could I ever live with myself? A throaty groan escapes my lips, my brows furrowing into the centre of my face. I don’t understand her. She always looks at me with such expecting eyes, assuming I can just read her mind. Pulling myself up from my bed, my eyes rest upon a delicate gold crown on my nightstand. My whole life nothing has ever been more important to me than that damned crown. But now that I’m all alone in my room, thoughts of her begin to dominate. My hearts one desire is to be up there on that throne, with her beside me. I know she wants it too, by the way her eyes seem to glow just the slightest bit brighter around me. I shrug on a deep purple coat, smoothing my hair back as I leave my quarters.

“Going out?” one of the maids asks me as I walk past her, towards the door. Flashing her a small smile, I nod.
“Royal business,”
“Of course,”

At the back of my gardens, behind an abandoned cottage, is a small fence that leads to a magnificent field of daisies. Aphrodite is waiting there for me, as well as some of her friends.
“Oh great, he’s here,” one of them retorts. A big man, maybe 19, with long ebony hair pulled into a messy braid down his back. “Dee, why did you invite him again?” he asks, his words directed at Aphrodite but his eyes set deeply on mine.
“Will!” she exclaims. “We talked about this!” the two seem to bicker for a while longer over my general presence, but the stars above us shine in a way that I’ve never quite seen before, in such a way that I manage to tune out William’s vexing voice. Another man, this one smaller and lean – like he’s never seen a buffet before in his life – approaches me.
“Your majesty,” his voice is somehow even smaller than his frame. I raise an eyebrow towards him, sending him a small step back away from me. “Constantine,” he shyly extends his hand and I have to stifle a laugh as his fingers shake violently. Constantine seems rather pathetic, but out of respect for Aphrodite, I reach his hand, shaking it firmly, giving him the most earnest smile I can muster.
“Ares,”

The people that Aphrodite hangs out with all seem to have one thing in common: they’re problematic in one way or another. William is boisterous and unpleasing, to say the least. Then, Constantine – who told me to call him Costa – has the frame of a young girl, the frame of someone who’s weak. My parents told me to never associate myself with weakness. There’s another man with short brown hair shaved so fine that you can see a deep scar crossing his scalp, then there’s two girls. In theory, one of the girls with short brown hair and a little rabbit nose could be considered quite pretty, but next to Aphrodite the idea quickly fades. I don’t entirely understand why someone like Aphrodite would hang out with people like this when she could be around anyone she ever wanted.

The six of us make our way through the daisies, stopping occasionally when the other girl – a tall, awkward looking girl – finds a flower that she thinks to be ‘pretty’. If it weren’t for the funny way in which she has to lean down to look at them I’d be entirely fed up by now. Aphrodite takes my hand softly, pulling me ahead of everyone else.
“Look,” her voice is smooth and sweet, like honey. I sneak a glance at her flushing cheeks before turning. I admit, it is quite beautiful. Standing near a steep hill, before us is fields that stretch out for miles before crashing into the sea, lit up by the moon and the stars, vivid colours cascading over the entire landscape. “You ready?” she asks. As if her eyes could get any brighter, she stares at me expectantly.
“I beg your pardon?” I splutter. “Ready for what?”

It’s a fascinating sensation, watching the world around you as you fall and tumble. I can hear screams of laughter erupting around me, I think. The wet grass sticks on my cheeks and through my hair, down to the blonde tips. I’m not sure if I’m gasping because when Aphrodite pulled me down the hill with her she blew all of the air entirely out of my lungs, or because maybe, just maybe… I’m having fun.

//

Next part coming soon x