Chapter4

#Chapter4

Aphrodite

My words somehow make the fire in his eyes roar even bigger, louder, and more terrifying. I’m ready to pass out from fear, but I don’t know what he’ll do while I’m unconscious. I don’t know what he’s already done.

The Athenians are barbaric. Abusive. The only other species really able to keep up with them are the werewolves--who are also malicious by nature.

/"You’re right, little girl. You’re mine,/" he growls, tightening the grip around my throat until it almost cuts off my airflow.

I know better than to beg with any Athenian, let alone their king. Mercy isn’t in his nature.

But, maybe if I remind him that I saved his life, he’ll go a bit lighter on me? He must have some form of gratitude, right?

/"Please don’t hurt me,/" I whimper. /"I saved you./"

The words that I had hoped would calm him only serve to anger him more.

/"Yes, little girl. You saved my life--only to tear my soul from my body as you fled. I would rather have died in that goddamn cell than have had you run. Do you know how long I’ve been looking for you?/"

Over two centuries.

When a Siren finds their soulmate, the male is instantly more possessive and attached than the female. Aphrodite has always had a thing for having guys chase her, and I guess she passed that along to her species.

So for me, I’ve been fine without him. On occasion I’ll feel lonely or get an ache in my core that only he would be able to satiate--but it’s controllable. But for him?

It must’ve been torture.

I realize that he’s right to be angry. My little snippets of need were a joke in comparison to what he’s most likely been feeling for 200 years.

/"I’ve been looking for you for over 200 fucking years, little girl,/" he growls. I squirm underneath him, trying to get him to loosen his grip.

It doesn’t work.

The scariest part is I can see how much he enjoys this. I can feel through the bond that he’s reveling in my helplessness, adoring my submissive position.

/"If you’d have come with me I would have been so good to you,/" he murmurs, his voice suddenly softening.

/"I would have treated you like a queen./"

He shakes his head, before leaning down and resting his forehead against mine. His grip on my neck loosens slightly.

/"You are a queen,/" he whispers, and I can hear the affection in his voice. But then he seems to remember himself. His anger. He lifts his head away from me and tightens his grip on my neck until it cuts off airflow.

/"But you broke the laws of our kind. Not only that, you rejected me. Me. And you’ll pay for it dearly./"

His tone drops at least an octave when he speaks again.

/"I’m going to make you wish you had never left me./"

I claw at his hands, feeling my fingernails draw blood, but it doesn’t phase him. Of course it wouldn’t phase him--he’s the king of Athens.

/"I want your blood, tears, sweat, and juices soaking these sheets,/" he growls, ripping off the thin sheet that covers my body. The lower half of me is naked, my upper half only being covered by my bikini.

I start shaking my head from side to side as much as I can in his grip. If he has his way with me, he’ll probably split me in two.

Although Aphrodite went easy on the girls in the case of not yearning for our mate, she also gave us a curse. Once we meet our mate, they are the only ones who can sexually satisfy us. So there’s no real point getting with anyone else.

When I met Ares, I was a virgin.

And in 200 years, I haven’t had the urge to touch anyone. Whenever I had cravings, they were always towards him.

I’m still a virgin.

And I don’t want my first time to be with my blood thirsty mate.

/"Please don’t do this,/" I manage to wheeze out, succumbing to my primal urge of begging him. But my words only bring a smile to his face. A sick, sadistic, twisted, evil smile that causes my empty stomach to churn.

/"You don’t even have the slightest idea of what I’m going to do,/" he responds, placing his hand on my uncovered core.

/"For two centuries I’ve come up with different ways to punish you. Invented new ways of torture. Tested them on anyone who was unfortunate enough to stumble on my land--or anyone who betrayed me./"

He finally releases his grip on my neck, allowing me to gulp in much needed oxygen.

/"Torture is such a delicate and beautiful thing. It’s easy to break bones, but understanding what would be the most painful thing? It’s an art./"

I start shivering out of fear. He’s the king of Athenians, I have no doubt his knowledge of torture is beyond extensive.

/"I’m a master of the art./"

He gazes at my expression, drinking in my fear and reveling in it.

/"Before I make you regret ever leaving, there is one thing I’d like to know./"

I can’t seem to shake the fear that has made a home in my chest. So much so that I barely register his words. All I can think of is the pain he’s about to inflict.

Pain.

Gods, no.

/"What’s your name?/" he finishes. A part of me wants to spit at him, tell him to go fuck himself, but I’m too scared to. So I comply.

/"Aphrodite,/" I whisper.

/"Aphrodite,/" he echoes, testing it. Tasting it. Reveling in my name. He lets out a small shudder before eyeing me.

/"Aphrodite, as in princess of Thebes?/"

Of course he’s heard of me. All royal families know the names of the other royal families. We’re all on fairly stable ground, and don’t often fight beyond silly squabbles that the nobles don’t concern themselves with.

I nod slowly.

/"So I won’t just be punishing my mate, I’ll be committing an act of war,/" he continues.

Maybe that’ll deter him? My tribe is just as powerful as his--we simply aren’t barbaric. That doesn’t mean our army is any less formidable or that we aren’t dangerous and scary. We simply protect our own.

Just when I think he might back away, a slow smile spreads across his face.

/"Perfect./"

I’m screwed.