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He must want her, greatly. Medusa repressed a shudder, her mind filling with unbidden images.
His unyielding gaze pierced her calm exterior to clutch at her heart, terrifying her beyond reason. She could barely breathe. Something had changed within him. Gone was the playful yet selfish God. The Poseidon before her was one of vengeance and retribution. Scorn lined the planes of his face. And yet desire blazed from the paleness of his eyes.
One moment he was before her, the next he was leaning insolently against the dais. She drew in a deep breath before casting a tentative glance his way. He seemed amused suddenly, his rage gone.
He looked at Athena then, as did Medusa.
“You give me little choice, Medusa.” Athena began, her voice echoing off the temple pillars as thunder.
“Peace, niece, I will take her.” Poseidon spoke with contempt. “Her father offered her to me as a mistress long before I offered my suit. It will suffice, and appease.”
Medusa was shaking. His hand cupped the side of her throat, startling her. The coldness of his skin pressed against hers, making her shiver all the more.
She saw his face darken instantly. His gaze, so fixed upon the hand that touched her, blazed once more. He pulled his hand from her, as if burned, and stared at her. There was no mistaking the fury he fought. “I will take the place of her husband. She will come with me. Until I tire of her, that is.”
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“I cannot,” Medusa gasped, reeling from Poseidon’s words. “I cannot betray him.”
Athena’s eyes narrowed. “You are wise to declare such fidelity to your husband, little one. If indeed the vows spoken are valid and binding. Did you marry with the blessing of your father or your guardian? I thought not.” Athena’s brown eyes looked between the two of them. “A bargain has been struck with your father – a bargain with Poseidon. My uncle is being most generous.”
Medusa felt as if she was tied beneath the crushing waves of high tide. She could see those things beyond the water, make out their shape and presence – but could not breathe or blink clarity into her eyes.
Athena was resolved as she continued, “This is a matter which impacts all of Athens, girl. You will be forgiven your selfishness. Poseidon has given you the means to repair the damage done. Take it.”
Ariston’s words echoed in her head and her heart. You will always hold my heart. Let it give you the strength to do what must be done. For you will be my lady, forever.
How could she endure the hands of another upon her? How could she lie with this…this God while married to one fighting for her protection – no, the protection of all of Athens? How could she contemplate dishonoring Ariston in such a way? His love gave her the strength to whisper, “I cannot.”
Athena turned from her. “Leave this temple. Now. You’ve lost favor with me and Olympus. I will look on you no more.”
Medusa felt tears slipping from her eyes. She was truly alone now. “Please, Athena.”
“Go!” Athena roared. “You speak honeyed words of loyalty and duty then turn your back on them. You would risk Athens? For what? A virtue you no longer possess? How dare you. Do not desecrate this holy place any longer. Go. Now!” Her words rolled throughout the temple, a force to be obeyed.
Medusa rose on trembling legs. She stumbled as she carried herself from the temple, but knew better than to stop. Her steps were halting, yet she pushed on. She collapsed as she came to Athena’s olive tree. She closed her eyes, to pray…
But who would she pray to?
What should she do? What could she do now? Her heart was throbbing, each beat sending pain throughout her.
She shook her head, a sob catching in her throat.
This was her making. Her naiveté had brought this about. She should have known she’d never be free, not really. Loving Ariston, tasting the promise of a real life had blinded her to the truth.
She’d served Athena with such joyous devotion because she believed in the Goddess, in her wisdom. She’d rejoiced in the knowledge that she served Olympus’ will. That she was of use to them, as she was to her father, was understood.
For the first time Medusa questioned this. Requiting Poseidon’s lust seemed a less than noble goal for Olympus, when the Gods themselves revered marriage. How, then, could Olympus ask such a thing of her? Nay, demand it?
But Poseidon had offered marriage first… It was her father, her own flesh and blood, who had offered her up for Poseidon’s pleasure Her father.
“Are you angry?” Poseidon asked, at her side.
She started, turning round eyes on him. A surprised smile appeared on his devilishly handsome face.
He circled her with interest, stopping to look into her face. “Your attempt at honor is admirable, but misplaced.” His eyes settled on her lips.
She continued to stare at him, his words barely reaching her.
