Standing up, my entire body shook with emotion as a new realization washed over me. "You did this on purpose," I stammered. "You did, didn't you?"

"Chara, is that true?" asked our father.

Chara rose off her tripod, her body rigid and fists clenched. "Rasmus is sweet, isn't he, Psyche? Of course, you know that. After your private chat."

I recoiled. The way she said *chat' made it seem dirty. Her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Oh yes, I know all about it. You can imagine how guilty Rasmus felt about misleading me. He confessed everything like a shamed little school boy. Including the fact that you knew too."

"There was nothing I could've done."

"You could've told me," she shrieked. "You could've at least acted like a sister for one day in your life."

"So what?" I demanded. "You got to my house, saw I was happy, and decided to sabotage the whole thing?"

"Let's just consider it me repaying the favor."

Father came and stood in front of me, shielding Chara from my view. "Psyche, I think you need some rest." And then he turned to Chara. "And I think you'd better make yourself scarce."

Chara huffed before stomping out of the room. Mother moved to my side and pulled me into her with a one-armed hug.

"Come on," she offered, "I'll walk you upstairs. Your room's just like you left it."

As we pa.s.sed together through the door, she added, "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Her words unwrapped a new layer of exhaustion and hopelessness. Sure we will, Mom, I wanted to say, just like we figured out how to get me out of having to go to him in the first place.

There were many things to love about my parents, but their ability to figure ourselves out of predicaments wasn't one of them.

Chapter 38 - Psyche.

I woke up screaming. Not a bone-chilling, blood-curdling scream, but an aching, worst-misery-of-my-life scream.

"Shhh, sweetie," Mom comforted and pulled the covers up higher under my chin. "It was just a bad dream. Everything's all right now. It'll be okay."

When my eyes finally fought through tear-sealed crust to stretch open, I saw my mother sitting on the edge of my bed. She stroked my hair repeatedly, as if the motion was comforting to her too.

The lines under her eyes were deep with worry and I doubted she'd slept. I pushed myself up in the bed and latched onto her neck, hoping she was right about everything being okay. But I couldn't truly believe. The dream had been too real. And what I needed right now was not another wretched freaking prophecy.

As I remembered my dream, my heart felt newly pierced again, like someone twisting a spear deeper into my wound. I fell over onto my side and tried to fold up into myself. Desperate moans forced themselves through my lips as I struggled to hold on to the warmth and security offered by my mother's presence.

"Oh, baby," she soothed, rubbing my back. "Want to tell me about it?"

I shook my head weakly back and forth.

"The burden is less if you share it," she offered.

I half-turned back to look at her. "I saw him. He came back to me."

"In your dream?" she asked.

I nodded. "I thought he'd forgiven me. That he understood what I'd done. But then..." I choked as a sob began to swell in my chest. Could I even say the words I'd heard so clearly?

Mother ran her hand down my face. She looked so understanding, so knowing. Could she see that remembering this dream was tearing out my heart from its roots?

"He said he'd always love me." Air hitched in the back of my throat as my lungs struggled to function. "Then he said goodbye. And that would be for always too."

I curled back into my ball. I'm sure Mother tried to talk to me after that, but I wasn't listening. Or maybe she didn't. Maybe she knew me well enough to know I just wanted to be alone. Either way, she retreated, leaving me to mourn the loss of the love I didn't even know I'd felt until it was gone.

Strength eluded me after that. My muscles refused to drag me from bed; my brain refused to climb out of its darkness. I knew I was wallowing in self-pity, but I indulged myself. Never in my eighteen years had I been allowed to just lay about, feeling mopey or gloomy. I'd always had to smile, to be the bright and cheerful one. Now that I'd lost so much so quickly, I felt ent.i.tled to take a few days off.

When I finally emerged from my room on the third day, my hair was caked to my head and my skin felt tacky from not having bathed. A faint odor of decay clung to my skin like a damp sheet. I yearned for a long soak in the tub followed by a huge breakfast.

But first, I just wanted a hug from my mom. And confirmation that Chara had taken the opportunity to make herself scarce.

Mother was in the gardens. When she saw me, she set aside her embroidery and wrapped me in her arms - despite my stink.

"Psyche, you're up," she chirped. "You must be starved. Do you want some breakfast?"

Before I could answer, she turned to Maia. "Maia, go get Psyche some eggs and sausage. And bread. Lots of it." Maia started to leave, but Mother called her back again, "Oh, and when you've done, get Psyche's bath ready."

It really was like she could read my mind.

"Of course," Maia answered before scuttling back into the palace.

Mother held one of my hands in hers and directed me to sit next to her. The air was warm this morning and we soaked up the sun as we sat in silence for awhile. Now that I knew my immediate needs were being taken care of, it took me a bit to work up the courage to ask about Chara.

What was I supposed to do if she was still here? I felt better after two days of self-indulged moping, but I wasn't sure I felt that much better.

Finally, I broke the silence. "Mother?" I asked.

She pulled her gaze away from some brilliant red flowers she'd been eyeing and looked over at me. "Umm..."

"What happened with Chara?"

"Your father sent her back to her City." Her gaze fell to her nervous fingers. "I think that may have been an always goodbye too."

I slid my hand away, unable to stand the damp heat rolling off her palms. I'd done this to her; destroyed any chance she may have had at rekindling a relationship with her firstborn child.

Someone should seriously be keeping a tally of the relationships I've destroyed, because I could probably win a medal at this point.

Chapter 39 - Eros.

Eros had hoped that saying goodbye to Psyche, even if through her dreams, would give him some closure. Make him feel better.

It had not.

His shoulder still ached where the oil had burned him. But more than that, the physical pain was a constant reminder of the heartbreaking pain he felt every time he thought of Psyche. How was it possible, after everything he had done for her, given up for her, all the times he'd promised to love her, that she would betray him after just one visit from her sister? He'd thought she was slowly falling for him. Was any of it real?

And then came the waves of anger. How could a mortal, even if she was partly divine, even dream of harming him? The idea was unfathomable. Eros refused to really acknowledge the thought in the back of his head reminding him that Psyche didn't know he was a G.o.d because he hadn't told her. All the signs were there. She should've figured it out.

"Humans are so stupid!" he yelled at his house.

"You won't hear any disagreement from me," Aphrodite said, narrowing her eyes into a wickedly delightful twinkle.

Eros flexed his jaw and pressed his eyes firmly together, unwilling to acknowledge her entrance. Aphrodite was the last person he wanted to see right now.

"Oh, come now, darling. You shouldn't be rude to me. You know that doesn't get you anywhere."

Eros let his head drop back as he breathed in deeply, trying to force his temper back down into wherever it was rapidly rising from. "I can't. Talk. Now."

"Tisk. You can always talk to me," Aphrodite chided, and reached out to lay her hand on Eros's shoulder. When her fingertips brushed his skin, Eros yowled in pain and spun around to face his mother. His eyes glowed with fury and agony.

"I'm asking you to leave," Eros spat through clenched teeth.

"Not until you tell me what happened to your shoulder. Did a mortal do that to you?" Aphrodite's voice seemed flooded more with vengeance than motherly concern.

Eros closed his eyes again and groaned, sinking down into the heaps of cushions on his couch. He shoved the heel of his palms into his eyes to block out the sight of his mother. "What does it matter? It's over."

"Unless you have killed the offender, this is not over." Aphrodite glared at her son, waiting for confirmation that the mortal had been appropriately punished.

Eros pulled his hands away to look squarely at Aphrodite. "I've doled out my retribution. I consider it over."

Aphrodite melted onto the couch beside her son. "You didn't answer my question. Is the man who did this dead or not?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Eros protested, throwing his arm up over his eyes to block out his mother again. "Just leave. Please."

"Is he dead?" Aphrodite articulated precisely.

"No," Eros answered without uncovering his eyes, "she is not dead. But I won't let you hurt her." Eros sighed heavily, pain ripping at his chest as the words spilled. "I love her."

"What?" Aphrodite shrieked as she bolted to her feet. "You're in love with a mortal? Is that why you rejected my pick then? Because you already had some other little hussy lined up? I bet she's some prost.i.tute the Senators are always fawning over."

"Stop! I will not let you speak about her like that." Eros's eyes blazed.

Aphrodite's breath caught in her throat as her eyes bulged. Expressions of shock, disbelief, anger, all flashed across her pristine face as she processed that her son really wasn't going to back down on this.

"Well, I suppose you ought to at least tell me who was so bold as to not only steal your heart, but nearly steal your life as well."

"I told you, it doesn't matter," Eros muttered.

"TELL ME!" Aphrodite screamed.

Eros looked up into his mother's eyes. Maybe it would be fun to tell her. Twist the knife a little deeper. It's what she deserved for not leaving him alone. "Actually, I think you might already know her." Eros's blue eyes glinted. For at least one second, he was going to enjoy wounding his mother. "Her name is Psyche."

Eros had barely spoken her name when Aphrodite slapped him. Eros slowly turned back to look at his mother while rubbing his tender cheek. Mother and son locked hateful gazes, each refusing to look away. Without breaking her gaze, Aphrodite snapped, "How dare you do this to me."

"How dare I? How dare I?" He sat up so he could get right in his mother's face. "How dare you send me out to ruin her life in the first place. She didn't do anything wrong. You can't punish her because I pushed her away."

Eros leaned back on the couch, arms crossed across his chest. Silence hung between them for a moment before Eros turned his icy, blue eyes back to his mother.

"It seems I'm in love with someone I can't be with and I have you to thank."

"How can you blame me for falling in love with someone I sent you to destroy? All you had to do was follow simple instructions."

"And I was on my way to do just that, when I felt her. I felt her heart, and her love, and her desperation, and all of the good in her. It was unlike anything I've ever felt before. I just couldn't shoot her. Not until I knew if she really was everything I felt." Eros took a deep, calming breath to steady himself. "And as I lowered my arrow, I nicked myself," he said, waving his hand at the tiny scar on his left knee.

"So out of all the deities - and other humans even - you picked her?"

"So what if I did? I'm un-picking her now. I a.s.sure you she's far more miserable now than if I'd followed your orders in the first place."

"We'll see about that. In the meantime, there's no reason for you to suffer. I'll simply undo the arrow." Aphrodite reached out to touch her son, but Eros slapped her hand away.

"Don't. I'll come to you when I'm ready. I deserve this pain as much as she does right now." That, and something else inside him wasn't ready to let go yet.

But before Eros could protest further, Aphrodite laid the palm of her hand on his forehead and hummed one long, sweet note. When she pulled her hand away, she looked triumphant. "There now. Feel better?"

The weight in Eros's chest lightened as the painful need to return to Psyche's side eased. It wasn't that he didn't still feel some loyalty to her, but the burning compulsion to be near her was gone. Perhaps, in time, he would be able to forget. Just as he'd forgotten Lelah.

Yes, once he'd found Psyche, the memory of Lelah all but disappeared. It could happen again. Heck, he could use his arrows to make sure it happened again.

Aphrodite patted her son's cheek as he blinked at her in shock. "You should rest. Mother has things to attend to."

"Don't hurt her," Eros muttered, already feeling himself drawn into sleep by his mother's command to rest.

"That's just the love hangover talking. You'll feel differently soon enough. Don't worry now. I'll take care of everything."

Chapter 40 - Psyche.

Mother must've known she couldn't convince me to stay at home, so while I bathed, she had the servants prepare bags of food and fill flasks with water for my journey. When I emerged from my room refreshed and dressed, I found my favorite horse, Xanthippe, loaded and ready.