🌸 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. She’d 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 breath—the 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 beautiful…
From: A Good Education
—Start at the beginning
—Mature Content Warnings for this series
Also. Nobody calls Persephone by her true name. They call her KORE, “the Maiden,” and it’s pronounced like “ko-ray” or “kora” not like “core of the planet.”
KORE PYRPHOROS, BRINGER OF BLOSSOMTIME & HOLY FIRE
🔥🌸🔥
The Goddess of Discord had grown tall enough to stand nose-to-nose with Kore. She was terrifyingly beautiful and so powerful—no. Eris was becoming power. With her every offensive, contemptible, despicable word, she engorged further. “Maybe 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, ‘Warlust!’ But since then, our widdle wish-he-was-a-warrior has earned his papa’s 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.”
Although Ares didn’t dignify the insults with anything more than a raised middle finger, Kore’s teeth bared in a snarl.
Wrath.
This was divine wrath surging through her—something 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 War’s 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 couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to.
She didn’t.
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 Kore’s 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 demanded—almost screeched, “You would insult both my beloved Athene and My Lord Ares in the same breath?”
“He’s not your lord,” Eris jeered.
“Neither is he yours!”
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. That’s 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 stone’s heart. “Oh, goodness,” Kore whispered. “This truly perturbs you—no. It causes you genuine anguish.” The Temple of War’s 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 Eris’ chest, and at its heart, a black vortex. It looked like a target for archery practice. “You dear, tortured thing,” Kore said, drawn toward it as though she had been shot from Eros’ bow herself. “How very sad for you. Oh, dear one…” 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 couldn’t rankle or enrage, the Goddess of Discord had nothing upon which to feed.
In contrast, Kore’s aura mushroomed. She advanced, drawn in with an irresistible urge to pet, stroke, nurture, hug. Horror contorted Eris’ features. “You feeble, disgusting waste of immortality! Get out of my face!” She backpedaled, raking claws at Kore’s eyes. The Bringer of Blossomtime swerved like a snake, then continued on target, gaze fixed, tender fingers extended. The temple’s brute power coursed through her. She let it. Welcomed it—yessss…
Eris slapped Kore’s 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. “Oh, you reek like flowers! Ughk!”
Kore kept coming. It’s 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 followed—almost 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.
“Blossomy bitch!” Eris’ 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 Discord’s legs and chomped. Panic-stricken, she screeched, tried to shake them off, wriggled, thrashed. “Oh, light of Night! Ares, call your vile spawn to heel!”
The God of War guffawed and settled in for the show.
“Backstabber!”
The Temple of War pumped wave after wave of power up Kore’s legs; she purred out wave after wave of endearments. Darling…beautiful…lethal…dearest…
Eris jerked, strained, swatted, kicked, clawed at the petting hand, at the ichor-soaked mouths. “Ackh! Get it off me! All of them! Ares, this instant!”
His laughter boomed through the temple. “You’re the one who threw down your challenge at a little flower goddess, thinking you wanted to go toe-to-toe when you know that’s where you’re weakest. So enjoy your miscalculation, my sweet. I sure will.”
“Bastard!”
He snorted. “I wish.”
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. That’s it, come to me. Surrender to my purifying fire… Let me take away all your pain. The second Eris launched, Kore’s 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 of—
“Whoa, thorny little pea pod!” The God of War jumped in and dragged her off of Eris’ face. “Let’s finish our conversation, just the two of us, shall we?”
“No, but—”
“Release. Now.” He wrangled the captured wrist from Kore’s grasp and booted the fanged boys back. “And you two. Off. Go play somewhere else.”
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 couldn’t 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.
“No!” Ares barked with another tug.
Kore begged him with her gaze. “But they’re ever so adorable.”
“My nastiest spawn? Adorable?”
“Of course. And they were helping. All that pain and angst inside of her. All that stabbing, clawing dissonance and—”
“Yes, 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?”
Kore’s 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 things—
“Come on.” 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. “Kore, 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.”
Her ichor pulsed like blown embers. It made her hair glow. It warmed her veins, her belly, and below. “That’s the last thing I need.” She sidled closer to stroke the delicious curvature of his bicep. “I quite like the effects of your temple, and I think it likes me.”
“It likes everybody who’s susceptible.”
“Yes, well, I just sent the Goddess of Discord sprinting off the field of battle. And I think she enjoyed it.”
“Same deal. Eris enjoys everyone who’s susceptible to her games, and especially those of us who can kick her ass at them.”
“Exactly. I think that proves how well I handle your…” Kore’s eyes ran down the length of him and back up. “Temple.”
“As you said, you had help from my sons. Besides, Eris is not the Goddess of War. That’s 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 doesn’t really like getting into the thick of things. She just mistook you for a sweet, weak flower goddess she could push around—an error I don’t think she’ll repeat. She’s actually more dangerous than Enyo, so don’t go getting a swelled head.”
“As you wish. I shall leave that to you, my mighty one. Along with…” Kore’s eyes and lashes lowered as her cheeks ignited. So did other places when she said, “The thick of things.”
He winced away. “Listen—”
“Sing it for me, Ares.” At his exacerbated sigh, she cupped his gorgeous, brutal jaw line in both her hands. “Hermes and Apollo have sung their songs. Hermes’ wit is deft, but uninspiring. And Apollo’s 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.” She traced his lips with her thumbs.
Ares harrumphed out a laugh. “You think you want flawed, do you?” He smooched her thumbs. “Am I flawed?”
“In all your magnificent glory.” 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 couldn’t 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. “I see how it is with you. You wear the dress of spritely light for mommy’s sake, but underneath…”
“Underneath my dress?”
“Underneath your everything.” 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. “It’s all true, isn’t it? What they say about you?”
“I don’t know. What do they say about me?”
“Ohhh…they say a whole lot.” 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. “There’s 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.” He drew closer with every word until his lips were poised at her ear. “Passion.”
“Unmistakably.”
“I’ve got all that in droves.”
“Why do you think I’m here?”
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 that—pure 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 he’s your husband.
But law and duty were nothing when faced off against the darts of Eros and the breath of Aphrodite.
Ares’ 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 god’s phallus his “wand of light” 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 couldn’t stop invoking his name. He couldn’t 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 God’s chariot bursting up at dawn. Devotion poured through her hands. “Mighty god," she murmured, "I was made to worship you. To be worshipped by you.”
“Uh-huh…”
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.
“Oh, fuck me.” His nose landed in her hair.
She grinned in breathless elation as she stroked him up and down. “We could arrange that. Your altar is just there.” She tossed her head at the bloodstained thing. “I, on the other hand, am here.” 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. “Rest assured, I would love nothing more than to take you down on your anointed, gruesome slab.”
This music video was built on Ares’ 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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