Page 64 of Protected By Artemis

“Hope it doesn’t come down to it,” he muttered, giving it a reassuring pat.

When he reached the altar, he tied the rope loosely to one of the fallen columns. The goat had lain down and seemed entirely unfazed by the strange circumstances it found itself in. He tookanother deep breath and stood still for a moment, staring at the altar. This was it. If this didn’t work, he wasn’t sure what would.

He set his bag down and began to lay out the offerings, trying to steady his nerves. It had been weeks since he’d last seen Artemis. He needed her to hear him. This time, he was ready to show her just how far he was willing to go.

He had spent countless hours researching how to pray to her, sifting through books, scouring online forums, and even consulting mythology experts. He knew the stakes were high—this wasn’t just about some casual plea. This was about the woman he loved, the goddess he couldn’t be without.

Then, late one night, he stumbled upon a website describing how the ancient Greeks used to pray to their gods, specifically Artemis—the rituals, the offerings, and the specific places that held power. It felt like fate, a last glimmer of hope in the darkness that had settled around him since Artemis had walked out of his life.

It all pointed to one thing: he needed to pray at a place sacred to her. That’s how he found himself in Greece, standing in the ruins of the temple, surrounded by the remnants of a time long past. He had followed the ancient ways to the letter—gathering the honey cakes, wine, lamb, and the statue of Artemis herself.

This wasn’t just any prayer. This was his last chance to make things right. He knew he had to show her he was willing to go to the ends of the earth for her, and so here he was. Kneeling at an ancient altar, the woman he loved on his mind, his heart in his throat, ready to pour everything he had into one final act of devotion.

If this didn’t work, nothing would.

The full moon bathed the ancient altar in soft, silver light, casting long shadows across the ruins. He looked up at it. The Hunter’s Moon, a celestial event known to be sacred to Artemis,had been his sign. When he realized the timing of his journey would coincide with it, he knew it was meant to be.

He took a deep breath, his heart racing, and set everything out carefully. He couldn’t afford a single mistake. He took out the wine, poured a small amount onto the ground, and offered it to the gods. Then, he remembered he had to take a sip as part of the ritual. The air still felt the same—no sign, no shift.

His pulse quickened as he moved to the next step, pulling out the lamb and setting up the camping grill. The scent of grilled meat was said to be pleasing to the gods, a way to get their attention. As the lamb began to sizzle, he continued his prayer, voice low and fervent. “Artemis…I miss you. I need you. Please…”

Still, nothing. The quiet around him felt heavy, almost oppressive, and for the first time, a pang of anxiety shot through him. What if she wasn’t listening?

He stood and approached the goat tied to the column, its calm eyes reflecting the moonlight. The animal was peaceful, almost too serene, as if it understood what was coming. Cade felt a knot tighten in his chest as he gently led the goat to the altar.

With trembling hands, he unsheathed the knife, his heart pounding behind his ribcage. He didn’t want to do this—he hated the thought—but the ancient texts had been clear. A sacrifice could make all the difference.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to the goat, then to Artemis, to himself. “I can’t live without you.”

The goat bleated softly, a gentle, almost comforting sound that made Cade hesitate. It felt like permission, a strange kind of peace in the animal’s eyes. He held the knife to its throat, taking a deep breath, preparing to do the one thing he wished he didn’t need to do.

But just as he started to move his hand, the blade suddenly disappeared from his grip.

“Stop!”

He looked up, startled, and there she was—Artemis, standing before him, her eyes blazing with frustration. The air around her shimmered with power.

“Don’t sacrifice that poor animal,” she exclaimed. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

Cade froze, his heart leaping in his chest as relief and awe washed over him. She had come.

“I can’t believe you w—” she began, her voice a mixture of exasperation and disbelief, but before she could finish, Cade swept her into his arms.

The relief and overwhelming sense of need all hit him at once. She was here, and he couldn’t let this moment pass. If words had failed him before, maybe touch would succeed. He held her tightly, his face buried in the curve of her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of cypress and amaranth. His Artemis. At that moment, he felt like he was home.

His arms tightened around her, desperate to convey everything—his sorrow, his love, his apology. He was wordless, hoping she could feel what he couldn’t say.

Hands with divine power gripped his wrists, pulling his arms away from her. He tried to hold on, to keep her close, but she stepped back, her eyes full of emotion as she gently but firmly broke free from his grasp. “Cade, stop.”

“Please, Artemis,” he pleaded, his voice breaking. “It literally hurts to be without you. I love you so much. I just…I can’t.”

There was still a wall there, one he couldn’t push through no matter how much he wanted to. She stood still, but the pain in his voice made her flinch just slightly.

“Love doesn’t undo everything, Cade,” she replied, her words measured. “You think this pain you feel right now is enough to fix what you did? You can’t just say you love me and make it all better.”

His chest tightened at her words, the burden of it all crashing down on him. “I know. I know I messed up. I just—when I saw my wolf’s eyes glow, I freaked out. But now I realize…it was right. My wolf was right. I need you, Artemis. You’re my mate.”

She hesitated, her eyes locking with his. The intensity of his emotions was raw and undeniable, but her own walls remained. She had been hurt, and divine or not, that wound cut deep.

---