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ARADIA
Yes, he’s taking me home. He must be. At last, he’ll spread me on some sacred altar, put a knife through my heart, burn my body, and set Psyche’s soul free.
I’ve spent most of these days with my back to the walls of the ruins, clinging to a simple thin thread of life. Part of me didn’t believe he would return. Part of me believed that perhaps—if I could starve myself or freeze to death—perhaps her soul would fly back to Purgatory.
Seems silly now when I remember what Hades mentioned. How Eros needs to be the one. The power lies inside of me, but it ishischoice. Not my power. Her power. It’s why I’ve been able to survive this long without food and water, I imagine.
But I knew I could hold on long enough until he came. I simply helped him on his way to my ultimate sacrifice, my test of love, I guess.
For now, I rest. I feel no pain in his arms. My broken wrist, my chilled to numbness flesh, the aching hollow of my stomach, the tremors, the dizziness, the steady decline of my heartbeat…they all bow to the warmth of the God of Love. Even in his gargoyle form, he is nothing but love.
So, I rest. And fall asleep in his arms.
I wake to his mouth on mine, capturing me, captivating me in a kiss. Our final kiss. A cool breeze drifts across me, carrying the scent of dark water, earthy wood, and dead roses. I don’t care where we are. I close my eyes because he’s holding me and kissing me for the last time.
His claw traces the space above my heart. I sigh into his mouth and arch my neck, thrusting my chest to him in surrender, repeating my action from the ruins.
He claws the gown instead. I lurch and sob against him as he claws it to my navel and rips the rest off my body, leaving me fully exposed.
“You’ve lost weight,” he growls just above my lips.
“Who cares when I’m about to lose my whole body?”
Out of the corner of my eye, statues of sad lovers clue me in that we are in the castle courtyard.
My skin grows warm, my pulse spins as he traces his claw around my breast. It must be adrenaline, endorphins, the final surge of hormones that causes my nipples to pebble and liquid heat to pool in my center.
“Mmm…I quite like this body, Butterfly,” he says in a deep, velvety voice, his claw hovering above my erect bud. “You should care for it more for both our sakes. Moreover…” He captures my chin, lifting it to his gargoyle face to purr, “Ilovethe heart and the soul inside this body. Every shattered piece of the soul that belongs to Aradia, Queen of Purgatory.”
“Queen of—what are you talking about, Eros?” My eyes widen, hope filling me like a kaleidoscope of butterflies rubbing their wings inside my chest.
He grips my throat in that possessive way that tightens my womb and ignites my nerves.
No words.
Eros shifts me in a full circle, tosses something in the air—like a spark, an ember—, and sets fire to…
“Eros!” I scream—the butterflies soar—and fall to my knees, doubling over as a host of flames explode, consuming the pyre upon which Psyche’s goddess body rests.
I choke. I cough. Not from the smoke. Inside me, the chrysalis bursts. I grit my nails into the dirty ground and retch. With nothing in my body, it should be a dry heave, but it’s not. It’s white. White as purity. White as a glowing dove that escapes my being and flutters away, disappearing into the flames with her burning corpse.
Something touches my lips. I flick my eyes down to find a goblet poised on my lower lip. “Drink, Aradia,” Eros commands.
Through tears, I drink the deep scarlet red liquid that smells bitter. But the contrast of tastes overwhelms me. It’s like the sweetest of all wines mixed with a vile aftertaste.
“Drink it all,” he growls when I stop after a sip.
It takes some gagging and hard swallows while holding my breath to get it all down. But the pain in my wrist, my numb flesh, and the hollow in my stomach all vanish. Strength surges into my veins, quickening my slow heartbeat to a steady pulse.
When Eros coils my hair around his fist, jerking me to a stand, I whimper. It turns to a strangled scream when he bends me over a bench and drives his cock right into me.
I cry out, nails scraping the stone as I struggle from the sudden fullness. My breasts bounce lewdly over the side. Smoke fills my nostrils from the pyre a few feet away.
Eros tugs hard on my curls, yanking me up. A shriek breaks from my mouth as the angle only deepens that beast of a dick inside me. The pain excites me, rouses me, reminding me this isreal. My eyes fog with my hot tears of emotion as Eros fucks me, savages me, hips rocking harder—and harder.
Gripping my throat and the underside of my jaw, he turns my face so he may crush his mouth against mine. Our tongues tangle, licking, tasting, and lapping. One hand cups my breast, kneading it hard and pinching the nipple, twisting in punishment before he slaps my tit.
His ferocity pours into me, consuming me with this sense of primordial Chaos as he grinds into me, using me roughly, however he desires. Proving he owns me. His carnal need, built on a foundation of Fornication, spears me to my core. And his intimacy that defines his very godhood of Love scrawls onto my heart.
