The King of Hearts - Jovee Winters Page 0,18

imagine. That I was her peer. Her equal in beauty. That she could be proud to be seen with me.

But then she’d spoken of the mortal, Arganon, to whom she was betrothed and in a moment of great epiphany I realized it was not the flesh that seemed to pull Psyche in, but rather the measure of a man’s heart.

My palm tingled, turning it over I stared at the spot where her fingers had traced my flesh. As the god of hearts, I had felt what she’d felt in that moment. Surprise. Curiosity. Intrigue.

It went against everything I understood but somehow, someway, she’d seemed to find me as interesting as I’d found her.

Just what kind of woman was she?

I felt my lips tip into a smile and then I startled, realizing what I was doing. I shook my head. Mother could never know the truth of Psyche. She could never be allowed to hear what I was thinking, sense what I was feeling… if she learned of this, she would utterly destroy the girl.

I watched Psyche walk away, watched as the men derided and ridiculed her. And hatred toward the men began to boil in my heart. Not that they wanted nothing to do with her, it was cruel what’d been done to Psyche, but it hurt worse knowing how much it was hurting her. I could practically see her curling into herself. See her self-worth dropping by the second. She had nothing to be ashamed of, but already her mind was becoming crippled by their censure.

Humans so easily believed the worst of themselves. A thousand people might be able to see their beauty and worth, but if even one person called them ugly, or nasty, it was that one person they’d believe above all the others.

I was wrapped in my shadows, no one could see me, but I felt fidgety standing out in the open so exposed. Releasing my wings, I sailed into the sky and riding a powerful air current I flew toward the isle of Gnósi. I had to figure out a way to guard Psyche from mother’s gaze.

I took the route of the gods and not of man. Flying toward a small ledge in the rocky outcropping. Once I’d landed, I tucked my wings away and looking around me, to make certain there were no spies about, I entered through the hidden tunnel.

Very few knew of this direct passage into the Fates cave. But I did. It was Atropos’ doing. Seer of the future, she’d only told me that someday I would have need of the knowledge, but that I was to never tell another soul of the passage or my life string would be permanently cut.

I’d been but a boy of eight. But I’d never forgotten her words.

The trail was not an easy one, it was tight and narrow. Scraping the flesh of my thighs and arms as I moved about. At one point I thought I might have been stuck, but I’d been able to inch through on my tiptoes. I’d peeled the flesh of my cheek for that effort. By the time I’d made it through I was bruised, sore, and bloody.

But then, there she was. In crone form. Her breasts were bared, and she gazed at me through ivory clouded eyes. She wore a crown of stars upon her snow white hair. Her fair skin so pale as to be nearly translucent.

“Boy,” she said softly, but with an echo of vast power behind it that caused me to shiver.

Only a goddess as old as her would consider me, a god of two thousand years, a boy. I tipped my head respectfully.

“You are finally come. Follow me.”

It was pointless to ask her how she’d known I’d come, considering she was the penultimate seer of the future, I knew she’d been expecting me.

I swallowed hard, but followed. Her footsteps were light as the air, in fact, she did not walk, but floated several inches above it. She reminded me of a grandmother in this form. And I suffered the strangest urge.

“You may hug me, if you’d like, boy. I do not mind.”

My lips parted just a little and shame filled my body.

She turned. And her face shone like Apollo’s own sun radiated from inside of her.

Opening her arms, she simply stared at me and I at her.

I would not touch her. She was divine. A true goddess in every sense of the word. The Fates literally controlled life and death, even those of other