that was, well, a little eerie. Swallowing his childish apprehensions, he observed as she lowered her face once more and placed her hands above the tormented soil. The smallest of seeds sprouted, leaves unfurling as the stalks crawled skyward. What should’ve taken weeks occurred in a matter of seconds.
He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. What was she? It was clear Kalliste wasn’t who she pretended to be. His wife possessed an identity she kept hidden from the world.
Was her thorny exterior also an illusion? An armor to protect her secrets? As he studied her, the awareness of what she was jolted him. He sank back on his heels.
Demeter possessed the power to bestow such a gift. Kalliste was either a descendant of the goddess or one of her worshipers. She was extraordinary, and her gift so precious… Aye, it was possible she wasn’t entirely Lapith, not entirely human . An ethereal quality encircled her. He’d only ever had a taste of it around… He paused, making the connections in his head.
Nymphs.
“Aye!” He bit his fist, to cover his mouth lest it betray him again. His gaze whipped to Kalliste, but she was as intent as ever. She hadn’t heard him.
His lips twitched into a grin. A nymph fit her perfectly. How had he failed to see it before? Many nymphs belonged to Demeter—tree nymphs, river nymphs, flower nymphs. They cared for every aspect of nature. Which one was she?
One thing was certain. It explained a hell of a lot—like why his cock was constantly hard around her. Nymphs had a potent effect on males, whether they wished to or not. The myths were filled with gods lusting after the seductive females. Often the poor creatures had to be permanently transformed into trees or flowers to escape being raped.
Did Kalliste even know? Merely viewing her in the field, he yearned to take her, right in the dirt and ashes. His shaft throbbed painfully in agreement. He’d never desired a female more.
What was the result of bonding a centaur male to a nymph? Thereus cursed as the answer came to him.
One hell of a dangerous beast if he didn’t bed her soon.
***
The skin on Melita’s neck tingled. Someone watched her. She paused in her ministrations and squinted into the forest. No eyes gleamed, so she concentrated once more on her task. At least they weren’t bothering her. Perhaps it was some curious children. The villagers knew better than to spy on her. They believed she prayed to Demeter. They were terrified of both viewing the goddess and of what would happen to them if they did. The villagers stayed away, usually. She wasn’t concerned. By dawn, this field would be well on its way to recovery.
When she’d asked the farmer about the cause of the fire, he’d blamed lightning. Bolts struck frequently in their village. The minerals in the Meteora’s composition likely attracted them, or perhaps Zeus enjoyed dumping his bolts here. With the new irrigation system they’d completed last year, the fire had been easy to contain and extinguish. Otherwise, the flames would have consumed the whole field, instead of the quarter-acre she was repairing.
She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and grimaced. Ugh. She’d smeared dirt across her gown, and likely her face. The centaurion red silk was utterly ruined. She’d have to sneak into the castle and bathe before Thereus caught her. At least he was angry enough to avoid her for days.
What had she done to make him so surly? A part of her whispered this was a good thing. Soon, he’d go and perhaps rarely ever visit. Unfortunately, her heart held the majority and it wanted him.
Melita poured herself into restoring the land. The hours sped by, the night turning dark and cold. She didn’t care. The glow of her energy kept her warm and also made it easy to see where to work.
Stretching her neck, she perused her handiwork. She’d stop by again in a few days to help the plants grow a little more. Tonight, she’d replenished the destroyed portion
He crossed his arms and furrowed his brow. What was she? It was clear Kalliste wasn’t who she pretended to be. His wife possessed an identity she kept hidden from the world.
Was her thorny exterior also an illusion? An armor to protect her secrets? As he studied her, the awareness of what she was jolted him. He sank back on his heels.
Demeter possessed the power to bestow such a gift. Kalliste was either a descendant of the goddess or one of her worshipers. She was extraordinary, and her gift so precious… Aye, it was possible she wasn’t entirely Lapith, not entirely human . An ethereal quality encircled her. He’d only ever had a taste of it around… He paused, making the connections in his head.
Nymphs.
“Aye!” He bit his fist, to cover his mouth lest it betray him again. His gaze whipped to Kalliste, but she was as intent as ever. She hadn’t heard him.
His lips twitched into a grin. A nymph fit her perfectly. How had he failed to see it before? Many nymphs belonged to Demeter—tree nymphs, river nymphs, flower nymphs. They cared for every aspect of nature. Which one was she?
One thing was certain. It explained a hell of a lot—like why his cock was constantly hard around her. Nymphs had a potent effect on males, whether they wished to or not. The myths were filled with gods lusting after the seductive females. Often the poor creatures had to be permanently transformed into trees or flowers to escape being raped.
Did Kalliste even know? Merely viewing her in the field, he yearned to take her, right in the dirt and ashes. His shaft throbbed painfully in agreement. He’d never desired a female more.
What was the result of bonding a centaur male to a nymph? Thereus cursed as the answer came to him.
One hell of a dangerous beast if he didn’t bed her soon.
***
The skin on Melita’s neck tingled. Someone watched her. She paused in her ministrations and squinted into the forest. No eyes gleamed, so she concentrated once more on her task. At least they weren’t bothering her. Perhaps it was some curious children. The villagers knew better than to spy on her. They believed she prayed to Demeter. They were terrified of both viewing the goddess and of what would happen to them if they did. The villagers stayed away, usually. She wasn’t concerned. By dawn, this field would be well on its way to recovery.
When she’d asked the farmer about the cause of the fire, he’d blamed lightning. Bolts struck frequently in their village. The minerals in the Meteora’s composition likely attracted them, or perhaps Zeus enjoyed dumping his bolts here. With the new irrigation system they’d completed last year, the fire had been easy to contain and extinguish. Otherwise, the flames would have consumed the whole field, instead of the quarter-acre she was repairing.
She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and grimaced. Ugh. She’d smeared dirt across her gown, and likely her face. The centaurion red silk was utterly ruined. She’d have to sneak into the castle and bathe before Thereus caught her. At least he was angry enough to avoid her for days.
What had she done to make him so surly? A part of her whispered this was a good thing. Soon, he’d go and perhaps rarely ever visit. Unfortunately, her heart held the majority and it wanted him.
Melita poured herself into restoring the land. The hours sped by, the night turning dark and cold. She didn’t care. The glow of her energy kept her warm and also made it easy to see where to work.
Stretching her neck, she perused her handiwork. She’d stop by again in a few days to help the plants grow a little more. Tonight, she’d replenished the destroyed portion
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