Destined. - Part 11
Library

Part 11

Alexa laughed. I beamed from ear to ear as I splashed water at her and hoped invisible nymphs could get wet.

"Kidding, kidding," she said until I stopped splashing. "Anyway, when Aris opened up the position, I jumped at the chance. In all seriousness, I just sort of knew what good friends we'd be."

I reached up and squeezed her arm. "Thank you," I said. "I don't deserve you."

"I think you do," she a.s.sured me. "And my job is to make sure you deserve me - and everything else here. To make sure your future is as wonderful as it should be."

"But I'm here. My future's already written."

Alexa started in scrubbing my hair. "Nothing's as certain as you've been taught. Humans like to believe in fate so they don't have to take responsibility for their actions. But you still have some critical choices to make. I can help you with your decisions, offer my advice. But in the end, all decisions are yours alone. You hold the key to your own happiness. Never forget that."

Just be happy.

As I rose from the bath, a plain lilac sheet that was apparently my dress for the evening floated toward me. Something else new. I'd never seen a design like it. It had no straps to keep it in place. And there was no detail or embroidery tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the edges. I c.o.c.ked an eyebrow and scowled as Alexa brought it closer.

"You don't like it?"

"It's not that, really. I just don't, well ... what is it?"

"It's a dress, silly. Strapless. It'll be the newest trend in Greece soon, and you get the designer's original."

"Who's the designer?"

"Me," she chirped. "It's one of my hobbies. Just wait till you see it on."

I followed the dress as we moved into my bedroom. She wrapped the gown around me, carefully tucking it under my arms and pulling it tight behind my back.

"How's it supposed to stay up?"

"This pin." Alexa produced an intricately knotted silver broach, almost the size of my hand.

"Wow. It's beautiful."

Using the pin, Alexa fastened the dress closed before sitting me down at the vanity to do my hair and makeup.

"This dress calls for something casually elegant. I don't want you to look too done up tonight," she informed me while she worked.

"I'm sure whatever you do will be perfect."

Before long, she flipped over the silver mirror for me to see my reflection. She'd hit her mark. My hair was loosely pulled back and little ringlets fell down around my face like a frame. She'd done my makeup so expertly that I didn't even look made up. I just glowed like the sun had come down from the sky and kissed me.

"You're amazing," I told her.

"I have an easy subject," she laughed, hugging my shoulders. "Come on, I want you to see the dress." She pulled me across the room to a full length mirror.

I hadn't had very high expectations. It seemed too strange and plain to be very pretty on. But when I saw it in the mirror, just the opposite was true. The dress showed off my shoulders with a look both new and stunning. I pivoted to look at the back. Where Alexa had gathered the material, it folded into a fan and cascaded down to the floor. The silver broach sat beautifully in the center of my shoulder blades. It was truly all the embellishment the dress needed.

"You're a genius," I told Alexa. "You should be designing gowns for the G.o.ds rather than babysitting me."

"I have to start somewhere, right?" I could hear the smile in her voice.

At first I sat on the edge of the bed to wait, staring at the open window. Doing this on my own was significantly harder than when I'd had Alexa with me last night. Unable to sit still, I went back to my vanity to add more lipstick and check my hair. But there was no detail in Alexa's handiwork I could improve on, so I returned to the edge of the bed.

As I waited, I picked at the skin around my nails. What was taking him so long? He hadn't taken so long to come last night. What if he'd decided he didn't want me? Not that I wanted him, but I wasn't sure how much more rejection I could handle in one lifetime. Having suitor after suitor want my sister instead of me had taken its toll on my ego.

Hopping up, I moved over to the fireplace to examine the mosaic surrounding it. The millions of tiny pieces of gla.s.s composing the picture amazed me and I got lost trying to figure out how an artist would even go about starting such a project. I was still studying the mosaic when the room went dark and I felt his strong arms wrap around my waist from behind. Spinning quickly, I looked back at him, but again, I saw only his eyes glinting at me from under a cloud of darkness.

"You're stunning," he told me as he pushed a lock of hair back from my temple and tucked it behind my ear. "I'll have to remember to thank Alexa for that dress."

His warm breath brushed my ear as he spoke, and he traced his soft fingers along my jaw line and down my throat, until they caressed my exposed collarbone.

I probably looked like a greased pig as I slid out of his embrace. "This hugging thing isn't working for me." The skin I felt beneath the cloud as I pushed him away was impossibly soft - definitely not a lion's coat or feathers. That was a pleasant surprise. Still, it didn't mean he got to wrap his arms around me like we were a couple. Because prophecy or no prophecy, there was no way me and the harpy sp.a.w.n were trading kisses.

"Please, Psyche," he begged, tugging gently at my hands to try to pull me back. "You know I love you, don't you?"

Pointing my finger at his chest and shaking my head, I told him, "No. No, no. I promised Alexa I'd try to be happy here. But you've got to stop saying you love me or I'm seriously going to freak out."

His body recoiled away from mine. "Everyone wants to be loved."

"I did. I mean, I do." I rubbed at the bridge of my nose as I tried to form a coherent sentence. "It's just, I don't love you - obviously - and we'd never even met until yesterday, so you can't possibly love me."

He sighed and let my hands fall away. "If only you knew."

G.o.ds, that sounded ominous. I was pretty sure I didn't want to know, but what else could I do but ask. "Try me?"

I knew that look. It was the same thing I'd seen in my father when he'd returned from Delphi. He was being crushed from the inside out and his eyes played out every pain. "I've been in love before, but it wasn't anything like this. That's how I know I love you." He dropped my gaze and looked away. "If you want me to stop saying it, I will. But it doesn't change anything."

As I resumed picking at my nails, I stewed in silent guilt that his feelings were so one-sided. Of course, I'd always hoped to one day be with someone who loved me. He'd been right on that point. But I figured I'd feel something back. I didn't even know what love was or felt like. Was this the most I could hope for? And if it was, was I giving him a fair chance?

"Will you tell me about her?" I asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. "The girl you loved."

The desperation in his eyes was instantly replaced with a look of cold iron. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Maybe I can make some sense of this if I know you better. I mean, know more about who you are instead of what you are."

A faint glint returned to his eyes. He exhaled, long and slow, before answering. "Her name was Lelah. She took my breath away the first time I saw her."

Scooting onto the bed, I nested into a stack of pillows and made myself comfortable for his story. At the same time, I mentally slapped myself for feeling any tinge of jealousy. That was definitely not called for.

"I was in Media during a brief exile and she was there." The bed sank as he sat next to me. "I'd dropped in on some sort of ceremony - to see the differences from Greece, I guess - and she was swaying by the fire. The flames rose almost to the roof of the temple, but she held her hands out to the blaze. Like she wanted to bring the heat closer. And I'll never forget when she turned those green eyes on me, peeking out from behind that thick, dark hair. I was lost before we even shared a word."

He looked at me and blinked, but his eyes weren't focused on me at all. "She was so kind at first, and truly caring. I felt how much she loved me. And when she finally kissed me, it was like lightning surging under my skin. We were almost perfect together."

And I thought I'd felt a tinge of jealously before? It was full-on blooming now.

"So what happened?"

He chuckled, low and sad. "Call it religious differences."

I sat up and peered at him. "You were totally in love with a girl and you left her because of her religion?"

"More like she left me." He must have closed his eyes, because the blue disappeared. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

Carefully, I reached out and felt for his arm. I recoiled when my fingers first hit that baby-soft skin, but I quickly returned to him. Trying to soothe; to let him know I understood.

"I'm glad you told me," I whispered. "Really." I ran my hands down his arms until I clasped his fingers. "And I'm sorry if remembering her hurts."

He covered my hands in his. "It was worth it."

My shoulders slumped. Somehow we were back on me. How could I ever compare to his dream girl? Sure, we shared hair and eye color, but the way she'd made him feel - that was something I hadn't, couldn't, give him. Was I just a religiously-aligned look alike?

"I want to know about the religion part. Why was that such a big deal?"

"Medians practice Zoroastrianism. Basically, they have one G.o.d who's the beginning and end of everything. When I told her who and what I was, she thought I was crazy. There was no room in her world for our G.o.ds."

"So when you told her you were descended from the G.o.ds, she sent you packing?"

"Pretty much." I heard him swallow. "But I know you believe. Given your relationship with Aphrodite and all."

A chill rolled through me, making the hairs on the ends of my arms stand on end. "How do you know so much about me? My family barely even knew about Aphrodite's visits."

"The same way I know I love you: I feel you." He tapped my chest just above my heart. "One of my gifts, I suppose."

My brow creased as I thought, but nothing made sense. "I don't understand."

His eyes burned like the blue in the center of a fire. "I'm not talking about physical touch. I'm talking about the feel of your heart, of your soul. Anyone can see you and think you're beautiful. But I know you're beautiful because I can feel what you do."

"So you know what I'm thinking? And feeling?" My whole body felt dirty, like I'd been stripped in front of a crowd. Without warning, my eyes welled with tears and I had to physically struggle to go a second night in a row without losing it in front of him. "I'm sorry," I said, waving my hands in front of my face like a fan. "That's just ... it's creepy. I don't like thinking you can see right through me like that."

"But don't you get it?" he asked, leaning in close, "the more I see, the more I love you. How kind you've been to Alexa. How strong you've been with everything that's been thrown at you the past couple of days." He dropped his head into my lap, shaking it slightly from side to side. "You're amazing. I don't know what else to say."

When he put it like that, how could I complain? My hand fell to his head. A thick nest of curls threaded between my fingers. His hair was so invitingly soft, I couldn't help but play with it.

And the next thing I knew, he was asleep.

Chapter 23 - Psyche.

My first thought when I woke up: it's my birthday and not a single person here is going to know.

Just as I'd thought, Alexa never brought it up, never wished me a happy birthday. Not that I knew when her birthday was or anything. But the void made me ache for my family all the more. This day never would've pa.s.sed unnoticed back at home.

That evening, I sat on the bed and watched the sun set behind the gardens, casting a glow of brilliant oranges and reds across the landscape. Just as he had done the past two nights, Aris's darkened form flew in through the window. My breath caught in the back of my throat as I gazed at the obviously powerful creature now standing before me.

He didn't speak right away, then cleared his throat. "Sorry about pa.s.sing out on you last night. Not exactly how I'd planned things to go."

I shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Seriously. You obviously needed the rest. I didn't mind."

"Yeah, well, I felt like I did all the talking last night and I want to know more about you. I already know my past."

"I thought you already knew everything about me." I couldn't help the playful barb; I probably even threw in an eyelash flutter for good measure.

He chuckled and I heard fabric shifting under his personal cloud. "I don't know nearly enough. So I figured you could tell me everything - over cake."

I took the package he held out to me. Once I'd untied the string and pulled away the cloth wrapping, I saw an amazing-looking cheesecake.

"Happy birthday to you," he sang in a low voice.

"How'd you know?" I asked.

"I figured it was something I ought to remember." He cleared his throat again. "I hope you like cheesecake."

"Who doesn't?" I slid onto the stool at my vanity, pulling the cake closer and breaking off a piece to pop into my mouth.

He stopped my hand before I could indulge. "Wait... this game has rules."

I looked at him with narrowed eyes. Since when does eating cheesecake have rules?

"I want one fact for every bite," he said. "Talk first, eat second."

Reluctantly, I backed the cake away from my already-parted lips. If he wanted to make a game out of this information exchange, who was I to complain?

"Fine. That's easy enough," I said. "What do you want to know?"

"Let's start with something easy. Tell me about your family."

I offered up my family's names and lineages - the most basic of information really - and popped a bite of cheesecake into my mouth. I smiled like an imp while I chewed.

"Hmmm..." he rumbled, but his eyes looked amused. "That's not exactly the information I was looking for. Tell me something about them that I don't know."

Swallowing the luscious bite, I pondered for a minute. I wanted to tell him something nice about my family, something that described how we were before the fame kicked in. But I was having a hard time seeing past our last week together.

"My mother and father were really worried about me when I left. The hardest thing I've ever done is watch my father cry when he said goodbye to me." I felt a sudden lump in my throat as I relived that painful memory. "Until he came home from Delphi, Father had always seemed so strong. I never even thought he could cry."

His hand caressed my arm, easing my guilt with the comfort of now as best he could. "They'll be okay, Psyche. You're a good daughter to worry about your parents more than you worry for yourself."

"You give me too much credit. I was worried sick about what was going to happen to me."

"But their pain hurts you," he said. "I can feel that."

"I guess that's just part of being human."