Cursed By The Gods Book 1 and 2

Chapter 25

The night was strangely cold, even through the thick fur coat he could feel the cold seep through, biting at his skin and fingers. He would have preferred the afternoon to when it was hot to make this journey to the table but as he stood at the tower waiting for the priests and temple helpers to finish with what they were doing he realized they had no plans of leaving any time soon. So he had waited.

And then his wife had gone to sleep, the villagers and retired to their homes, people closed their windows and doors, only then did he don on his coat and sneak out of the palace.

He hated that he had to sneak out of a home that was his, he hated that he had been reduced to a stranger in his kingdom but then what choice did he have? What power did he have against a goddess who could break his neck at the snap of her fingers? So he pulled his coat closer and crept in the shadows towards the temple. The village guards who were supposed to stand guard in case of any attack of any village theft made his mission easier since they were gathered at the village pub drinking, dallying with women and talking loudly. The few who weren’t in the drinking house laid in drunken mess on the ground. Octavius side stepped them and made his way to the temple arena which was empty, the temples were decorated with flowers the women had been stringing all afternoon, there were pots colored and designed with beautiful bright colors, and mats that the some of the village maids had been weaving were used to cover the steps to the temples. Octavius ignored all of these and went round back to Ashterah’s temple. The women had decorated it with red and gold clothes they had even hung yellow flowers all-round the edge of the roof and the doors.

He swept the flowers on the back door aside and opened it. The interior was pitch dark, there were no movements to indicate that there were priests around putting finishing touches on the decorations. Octavius fumbled around with his hands on the wall looking for a scone, surely beside the scone there would be flint to start a fire with.

The moon, though full, offered no light whatsoever to the dark interior of the temple so he fumbled for a long time walking deeper and deeper into the temple until his fingers came in contact with a scone. Because his hand had unintentionally come in contact with it, it shook slightly scraping the wall, though it was almost inaudible there was no telling if there was actually a temple hand sleeping in the temple so he paused for a heartbeat and waited, his breath sounding heavy in his ears.

When he heard no movement he removed the torch in the sconce and after a brief search around found the flint. There was a small pile of dried grass in the torch, he held the flint over it and struck. The grass caught fire which spread quickly in the hollow of the torch.

Octavius held the torch away and swept it across the empty temple to confirm that there was no one in there but him. Once he had satisfied himself with the empty room he went straight to the center of the temple where the statue stood. He leaned the torch against the base of it and went on his knees, he could kneel before the statue because it was nothing compared with how he was going to kneel before the goddess herself and do any other thing she wanted just have a child.

He put his palms together and chanted the words he knew would bring the goddess, shouting her name at this time of the night would not do him any good he didn’t want any unnecessary attention neither did he want the goddess blasting him with her powers against the wall again.

As he chanted he felt a warmth in his chest, no cold or hot air blew, just a warmth that turned hotter in his chest and the more he chanted the more his heat increased until his heart felt like it was going to burst through his chest. He stopped chanting and gasped, holding his chest in his hands as his breath came out heavy and thick. He tried to move his lips to continue with the chant but they would not move, the skin of his chest under his heart was hotter. He frowned and looked down jerking the fur coat and his tunic aside. There was nothing on his skin to indicate a burn but he could still feel the burn in his chest until he took a closer look and saw the emblem of Ashterah on the right side of his chest. At first it started as a light glow but as it burned it a brighter and more pronounced with a red outline that burned itself into his chest.

“I locked you out of my temple.”

He looked up at the familiar voice and saw Ashterah seated with her legs drawn up her chest. Her red hair was wide all over her face.

“What?” The words barely passed through his lips for the pain he could still feel in his chest.

“You have ignored me for quite a long time, Octavius, I had to prevent you from seeking my favor because you hurt me.”

If he had any strength in him he would have lunged himself at her, grabbed her throat and break it even though she was sure to out power him and would probably kill him. She was hurting him trying to claim his life and his freedom and even made him sterile until he submitted himself to her and she dare accuse him of hurting her? He longed to hurt her but swallowed his pride.

“I am sorry,” he said from between gritted teeth.

Ashterah hugged her knees closer. “You are not, Octavius. You are too proud to be sorry which is why I am way too attracted to you.” She looked at the emblem on his chest and said, “As long as you are f*******n from coming to my temple on Mount Kpamos you will have that emblem on your chest.”

“I said I am sorry. I did try to summon you yesterday…”

“In daylight!” Ashterah screamed, her voiced rumbled throughout the empty space. “My father will kill me if he finds me with a mortal in public especially in broad day light when there is no special occasion that requires my presence with you! You were taking advantage of my love for you, Octavius.”

As she spoke the pain in his chest increased to a point where blood dripped from his nose. He wiped the blood away with the sleeve of his coat.

“I am sorry,” he repeated.

“Prove it, Octavius. Prove that you are really sorry for offending me,” Ashterah demanded as she crawled forward on her knees towards him, her green eyes searching his face.

Octavius swallowed at the bile that rose in his throat as he struggled to bring his next words to the tip of his tongue.

“I want you to claim me, Ashterah.”

She paused midway and c****d her head to study him as if trying to see if he was being honest. Her eyes searched his face rapidly before falling to the emblem on his chest. As she stared at it Octavius felt a cool breeze blow against the surface of his skin and the emblem began to fade, the burn of the red rings healed as he raised her hand against his chest. Ashterah placed her hand on his chest and smiled wide, her hand crept up to the back of his neck and she pulled him close for a kiss.

Octavius closed his eyes. He hated the way his body responded to her kiss, hated how she smiled against his lips as she felt his arousal. Her other hand came up to his neck and she leaned her body into his. When she pulled he saw her fangs glisten against the yellow light of the torch.

“Come my love, we perform this ritual in my temple at Mount Kpamos.”