đ¸ Susceptible
L&W 10: The Bringer of Blossomtime goes head-to-head with the Goddess of Discord in the Temple of War
Previously on 6 LITTLE SEEDS:
She had never been in a fight before. Sheâd never even experienced a circumstance in her life that could have led to one, but the Temple of War whispered that it knew exactly what she needed do. It promised her victory, if she would only yield to it.
Something she was certain that Eris had done centuries ago.
When the Goddess of Discord turned back to Kore, all hint of humor vanished from her gaze. Her eyes went such a deep, dark red they were nearly black. Wings seeped up from her back like smoke. They matched the scent of her breathâthe stench of charred, rotting carrion. She was the essence of incineration and soul-sucking malice. She was the putrefaction of everything that had once been pure and beautifulâŚ
From: A Good Education
âStart at the beginning
âMature Content Warnings for this series
Also. Nobody calls Persephone by her true name. They call her KORE, âthe Maiden,â and itâs pronounced like âko-rayâ or âkoraâ not like âcore of the planet.â
KORE PYRPHOROS, BRINGER OF BLOSSOMTIME & HOLY FIRE
đĽđ¸đĽ
The Goddess of Discord had grown tall enough to stand nose-to-nose with Kore. She was terrifyingly beautiful and so powerfulâno. Eris was becoming power. With her every offensive, contemptible, despicable word, she engorged further. âMaybe good King Zeusy was originally nervous about that ole scawey prophesy when the Sniping Queen dribbled this one from her crack and he popped out crying, âWarlust!â But since then, our widdle wish-he-was-a-warrior has earned his papaâs spite the old-fashioned way. As if his whining and unbridled rampaging could ever compete with a heel-licking stick-in-the-mud whose only passion is for her own sword.â
Although Ares didnât dignify the insults with anything more than a raised middle finger, Koreâs teeth bared in a snarl.
Wrath.
This was divine wrath surging through herâsomething her mother had forbidden her to explore, and had squashed her enormous thumb upon every time it had surfaced. In the Bringer of Blossomtime? Great Gaia, no.
Yet here it was, churning and bubbling, coming to a boil with no stern-eyed Earth Mama in sight. Everything around her, even the Temple of Warâs very stones and its smoke-hazy air hummed and hissed. Surrender, girl. Let go of the reins. Let it have its head, come on. Jam your heels against its ribs and let it do what it was made to do, yesssss.
Kore had never tasted anything more abhorrently delicious in her life. It was like fresh-roasted meat and razorblades, all drizzled with char-blackened honey. Its claim upon her was as irresistible as a landslide. She couldnât have stopped if she wanted to.
She didnât.
All she wanted was to WIN. To see Eris flattened at the bottom of the rubble heap. To stand triumphantly with her foot atop it, and know that she had put the Goddess of Discord on her ass.
But Koreâs pulse was skittery. The ichor in her veins was a river of fire about to rage through a dam. Her whole frame shook with colliding, warring impulses she had no idea how to control, much less wield. It was as likely to scorch her as her enemy. Eris remained so calm, smirking down her nose, which only infuriated Kore more. Battling to keep her voice level, the girl demandedâalmost screeched, âYou would insult both my beloved Athene and My Lord Ares in the same breath?â
âHeâs not your lord,â Eris jeered.
âNeither is he yours!â
Eris flinched at those words. The movement was nearly indiscernible. Kore felt it more than she saw it, and the world went silent. Even the torches stopped flickering. Now⌠came the low thrum. Thatâs the target. Strike her now.
Kore blinked in surprise.
Her head tilted as she searched the depths of those ruby eyes more intensely. Yes, there it was. The fracture, deep in the stoneâs heart. âOh, goodness,â Kore whispered. âThis truly perturbs youâno. It causes you genuine anguish.â The Temple of Warâs ravenous shadows infiltrated the tender garden that bloomed within her breast. It showed her the most potent weapon to wield against her foe.
As she reached for it, the spell of viciousness broke. The blood-hued veil over her eyes went rosy-pink. A brilliant golden ring shone at the center of Erisâ chest, and at its heart, a black vortex. It looked like a target for archery practice. âYou dear, tortured thing,â Kore said, drawn toward it as though she had been shot from Erosâ bow herself. âHow very sad for you. Oh, dear oneâŚâ Her eyes misted over. With a gaze soft and searching, she reached out a comforting hand like she had to every other suffering creature she had encountered.
Eris recoiled as though she had just bitten into something disgusting. Then she growled in furious dismay. In the face of an opponent she couldnât rankle or enrage, the Goddess of Discord had nothing upon which to feed.
In contrast, Koreâs aura mushroomed. She advanced, drawn in with an irresistible urge to pet, stroke, nurture, hug. Horror contorted Erisâ features. âYou feeble, disgusting waste of immortality! Get out of my face!â She backpedaled, raking claws at Koreâs eyes. The Bringer of Blossomtime swerved like a snake, then continued on target, gaze fixed, tender fingers extended. The templeâs brute power coursed through her. She let it. Welcomed itâyessssâŚ
Eris slapped Koreâs hands aside. She moved to plant one foot behind her, but her heel hit the couch. She skittered sideways, tripped over the scrambling legs of her mortals, let out a feline screech of outrage. âOh, you reek like flowers! Ughk!â
Kore kept coming. Itâs all right, darling goddess. I am here. Surrender to my embrace. She radiated it through her smile, her eyes, her outstretched arms. Eris transpired on the other side of the couch. Kore followedâalmost beat her there. Her fingers cinched around the ebon wrist. Her other hand reached up to that wincing face, pouring out wave after wave of tenderness. There, now. I will make it all better.
âBlossomy bitch!â Erisâ divine core surged. Her fist clenched and drew back, but two small, dark boys transpired on either side of her. Fanged and drooling, they latched onto the Goddess of Discordâs legs and chomped. Panic-stricken, she screeched, tried to shake them off, wriggled, thrashed. âOh, light of Night! Ares, call your vile spawn to heel!â
The God of War guffawed and settled in for the show.
âBackstabber!â
The Temple of War pumped wave after wave of power up Koreâs legs; she purred out wave after wave of endearments. DarlingâŚbeautifulâŚlethalâŚdearestâŚ
Eris jerked, strained, swatted, kicked, clawed at the petting hand, at the ichor-soaked mouths. âAckh! Get it off me! All of them! Ares, this instant!â
His laughter boomed through the temple. âYouâre the one who threw down your challenge at a little flower goddess, thinking you wanted to go toe-to-toe when you know thatâs where youâre weakest. So enjoy your miscalculation, my sweet. I sure will.â
âBastard!â
He snorted. âI wish.â
Eris lowered her chin and hunkered down, sighting on Kore. Her teeth bared. Her eyes flashed blinding crimson.
The Bringer of Blossomtime salivated. Yes, succulent darling. Thatâs it, come to me. Surrender to my purifying fire⌠Let me take away all your pain. The second Eris launched, Koreâs hands clapped onto her face. She met the Goddess of Discord with a kiss straight on the lips. Eris let out a withering moan as her lithe, muscular form sagged. Kore kept opening, kept kissing, kept drawing all that blackness and suffering out ofâ
âWhoa, thorny little pea pod!â The God of War jumped in and dragged her off of Erisâ face. âLetâs finish our conversation, just the two of us, shall we?â
âNo, butââ
âRelease. Now.â He wrangled the captured wrist from Koreâs grasp and booted the fanged boys back. âAnd you two. Off. Go play somewhere else.â
Upon her moment of freedom, Eris skittered through time and place, appearing back on the other side of the couch to glower, gag, shudder, rub her wrist. Her eyes gave off a faint pulse of blackish-red. Then her mouth worked as though she needed to bathe her tongue. She couldnât fully catch her breath. The twin boys hissed out matching laughter and slipped into the crowd. Kore drew in a breath to call them back.
âNo!â Ares barked with another tug.
Kore begged him with her gaze. âBut theyâre ever so adorable.â
âMy nastiest spawn? Adorable?â
âOf course. And they were helping. All that pain and angst inside of her. All that stabbing, clawing dissonance andââ
âYes, all that and more. Trust me. Eris will be just fine without all your petting and hugging, and especially your insatiable mouth sucking out all her pain and angst. What do you think Discord is made of?â
Koreâs bottom lip plumped, but she allowed him to herd her away. Still, she cranked her head back to catch one last look at her new playmate. The temple chuckled. Oh, Eris was every bit the delectable snack that Ares was. So tantalizing to embrace and cuddle and nuzzle and whisper the sweetest thingsâ
âCome on.â Ares tugged harder.
Eris slunk in the other direction. Over her shoulder, she cast a grave look at the God of War before turning to torment a lonely princess hovering around the wine vat.
Ares wore the same concern in his scowl before he took in a breath and donned his air of command. âKore, this is no place for you. You have no idea how to handle the effects of my temple. You need to go home to your mother. Now.â
Her ichor pulsed like blown embers. It made her hair glow. It warmed her veins, her belly, and below. âThatâs the last thing I need.â She sidled closer to stroke the delicious curvature of his bicep. âI quite like the effects of your temple, and I think it likes me.â
âIt likes everybody whoâs susceptible.â
âYes, well, I just sent the Goddess of Discord sprinting off the field of battle. And I think she enjoyed it.â
âSame deal. Eris enjoys everyone whoâs susceptible to her games, and especially those of us who can kick her ass at them.â
âExactly. I think that proves how well I handle yourâŚâ Koreâs eyes ran down the length of him and back up. âTemple.â
âAs you said, you had help from my sons. Besides, Eris is not the Goddess of War. Thatâs Enyo, who is almost as tall as I am. Darling Discord would rather tiptoe around the fringes, prodding and lighting brush fires, making life ever so uncomfy for anyone in her path. She doesnât really like getting into the thick of things. She just mistook you for a sweet, weak flower goddess she could push aroundâan error I donât think sheâll repeat. Sheâs actually more dangerous than Enyo, so donât go getting a swelled head.â
âAs you wish. I shall leave that to you, my mighty one. Along withâŚâ Koreâs eyes and lashes lowered as her cheeks ignited. So did other places when she said, âThe thick of things.â
He winced away. âListenââ
âSing it for me, Ares.â At his exacerbated sigh, she cupped his gorgeous, brutal jaw line in both her hands. âHermes and Apollo have sung their songs. Hermesâ wit is deft, but uninspiring. And Apolloâs song...it was brilliant and perfect. He is so very perfect with his shining curls and gilded smile. But I have no interest in perfect.â She traced his lips with her thumbs.
Ares harrumphed out a laugh. âYou think you want flawed, do you?â He smooched her thumbs. âAm I flawed?â
âIn all your magnificent glory.â Pulling him closer, she tipped her head back, stood on her tiptoes, and maneuvered her throat beneath his lips.
He growled off frustration and tried to pull away, but then sighed in frustration. Such a glorious sound, made more glorious by the fact that he couldnât help kissing her there, where her life force throbbed so strongly. His life force throbbed considerably lower. It gouged like granite against her hip bone. Her fingertips brushed the front of his thigh. It was so heavenly, as hard as it looked, covered in a layer of dark hair.
He drew in a sharp breath at her touch, then snarled out his lust. âI see how it is with you. You wear the dress of spritely light for mommyâs sake, but underneathâŚâ
âUnderneath my dress?â
âUnderneath your everything.â His hands clenched her hips. Hazy-eyed, he spoke as though he was as drunk on her as she was on him and his temple. âItâs all true, isnât it? What they say about you?â
âI donât know. What do they say about me?â
âOhhhâŚthey say a whole lot.â His thumbs gouged hard into the indent of her pelvis. His fingers massaged pleasure into the base of her spine, which made her sag into his grip. He started edging lower. âThereâs even more they leave unspoken. But I don't need to hear it. I can smell it on you like I can smell your innocence. You like danger. Destruction. Power.â He drew closer with every word until his lips were poised at her ear. âPassion.â
âUnmistakably.â
âIâve got all that in droves.â
âWhy do you think Iâm here?â
He grabbed her hand and slapped it against the overheated length of his godhead. Open mouthed, all she could do was grip it. A cheer went up around them. A few shallow pants escaped her at being witnessed like thatâpure exhilaration, and the most natural thing in Creation. The rabbits and dragonflies and badgers performed their mating dances right there in the wilds of their habitats. So, too, a goddess of fertility with her chosen god.
No, you have to stop this. You need to wait until heâs your husband.
But law and duty were nothing when faced off against the darts of Eros and the breath of Aphrodite.
Aresâ body was like life-giving nectar to her hands. His ragged breathing was an intoxicant. The skin of his godhead felt like molten silk, yet beneath he was all vibrant, proud oak. In the Temple of Love, they sometimes called a godâs phallus his âwand of lightâ and now she understood. Mesmerized, she explored every line, every bulbous curve, the rippled plain of his belly, the calm seas of his buttocks. She delved into every hot nook in the forest of his crotch hair, and then back up to the aperture where the fount of him would anoint her.
He groaned and clamped fingers in her hair again. As she touched him, she couldnât stop invoking his name. He couldnât stop shuddering. Panting. Grunting. His reactions were as musically varied as the sounds in the grove, all at the veering and coaxing of her fingertips. The radiance of rapture pulsed through her aura like the Sun Godâs chariot bursting up at dawn. Devotion poured through her hands. âMighty god," she murmured, "I was made to worship you. To be worshipped by you.â
âUh-huhâŚâ
Ares molded his fingers around hers to show her the way he liked to be touched. She had to use both hands to truly do him justice.
âOh, fuck me.â His nose landed in her hair.
She grinned in breathless elation as she stroked him up and down. âWe could arrange that. Your altar is just there.â She tossed her head at the bloodstained thing. âI, on the other hand, am here.â She shucked him harder. He moaned as his knees gave way a little. Oh, yes. His temple was just as good at informing her of all his most vulnerable targets as well. Undiscerning, vicious thing. Her tongue flicked out over her lips, then sampled the edge of her teeth. Her eyes lifted to drink in the panting, trembling mountain of god in her hands. âRest assured, I would love nothing more than to take you down on your anointed, gruesome slab.â
This music video was built on Aresâ gory altar. Be warned. He approved this message.
UP NEXT: AN APPROPRIATE LEVEL OF FEAR - Ares finds himself in a bit of a dilemma.
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