Page 4 of Desired By Eros

Psyche.What an interesting name.

“He’s only my Alpha because of this stupid punishment.” He licked his lips at her. “What did you do to get stuck out here, sweetcakes?”

“Did you know titanosaurs have no toes on their front feet?” she said in a flat and emotionless tone.

“Huh?”What the fuck?

“They evolved that way, no one knows why,” she continued. “They walk around on these stumps made of metacarpal bones.”

He blinked at her. “What are you talking about?” Were they even having the same conversation? On the same planet?

“Titanosaurs,” she said flatly. “They’re a type of dinosaur.”

“Psyche is getting her PhD in paleontology,” Cade piped in.

“Paleoichnology, to be exact,” Psyche said. “With a focus on paleoclimatology.”

Eros pursed his lips, frowning down at this unusual creature. Still, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her as he wondered if her eyes were green or brown. It was driving him crazy, not knowing, and he wanted to haul her face up to his so he could take a closer look.

“How interesting,” Aphrodite said.

Interesting? Her work sounded boring. She probably spent hours and hours looking at old bones. There was only one bone he was interested in—his own.

Or maybe jumping hers.

“I think everyone’s waiting for you two to start the festivities,” Artemis said. “Right, H?”

“What does that mean?” Aphrodite lifted an eyebrow at him. “Hephaestus?”

“Look,” the god of forges and fires began. “I know we said we wouldn’t have a fancy program or formal reception. But there was something we didn’t do at our first wedding.”

“And what’s that?”

“Dance.”

As a slow song began to play over the speakers, Hephaestus led Aphrodite to the dance floor. Eros managed to force himself to look away from Psyche as he watched his parents. The heavy, warm weight of the gold pendant sparked an awareness in him, and he touched the face with his right forefinger. Hephaestus had given it to him after the golden apple ceremony that granted him his immortality. “You need a symbol to wear to our gatherings,” he had said. “So, I made it for you.”

Of course, Eros had never worn it because he didn’t attend those stuffy official Mount Olympus functions. They were long, boring, and nothing fun ever happened. Also, most of them were presided over by that arrogant prick Zeus, whom he had borne disdain for ever since he met him. So, he avoided going to those events as much as possible, and thus, never had a reason to wear the medallion.

He kept it, though, as he did everything Hephaestus ever made for or gave to him.

While the god of fire and forges gave Eros neither his flesh nor blood, he had given him something greater. He used to abhor his wings because they had come from the man hehated most in the entire world, Hephaestus had reforged that symbol to mean something new. And though his mother and Hephaestus had divorced right after the ceremony, he knew that Hephaestus would always be his father in all the ways that mattered.

Ignoring the tightening in his throat, he turned back to the petite woman beside him. “So, if you’re not the nanny, who are you?”

Artemis glared at him. “Psyche is the daughter of the Alpha of the Vancouver pack,” she said. “She’s working on her PhD, and her next dig site is nearby, in Denali National Park, so her father asked if she could stay with us while she waits for word of when she can start. She’s a guest here, and you will treat her as such.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m a guest here, too, and no one treats me special.”

“You’re not a guest,” Artemis said.

“Yeah, I’m a prisoner.”

“Prisoner?” Psyche echoed. “Are you being punished by your Alpha?” She leaned close to him, her nose nearly touching his chest. “You don’t smell like a shifter.”

Ignoring the way his heart jumped at how close she had gotten, he smirked at her. “I’m not.”

“Oh, how rude of me,” Artemis exclaimed. “I didn’t formally introduce you. Psyche, this is Eros, God of Love and Desire. Or at least he was. Or still is.” She scratched at her head. “Actually, I’m not quite sure.”

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