Page 8 of Hera

Demi laughed. “Not until you tell me what happened.”

Hera groaned, not in pleasure this time.

“If you insist on broadcasting your emotions and half-drowning all of Purgatory, then I’m entitled to ask why.” Demi kneaded the ball of dough in front of her with a series of punches that made Hera wince.

“It’s silly,” Hera said.

“Obviously it isn’t, since your state of mind is in such turmoil,” Demi pointed out.

“I went to Valhalla’s Throne last night,” Hera blurted out. She bit her lip. “I wanted to find someone to bring home last night so I wouldn’t be alone.”

“Oh, honey,” Demi cried out. “I’m sorry. This has all been so abrupt for you. Would you like me to sleep over tonight?”

“What?” It took Hera a second to realize why Demi was offering that. “No, no, that’s not what... I meantalone.” She wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully. “A girl’s got needs, you know. You’re lucky Charles satisfies yours.”

Demi blushed. “Oh. Yes. Quite.” She cleared her throat. “You didn’t find anyone worthy of your time?”

Hera rolled her eyes. “There were plenty of prospects. I could have brought Odin himself home, if I’d asked. He was giving all the right signals.” She sighed. “But one of the fighters caught my eye, hook, line, and sinker.”

“Oh, do tell!” Demi clapped her hands together, clouds of flour forming in the air. “What did he look like?”

“Muscles. Lots of them. All that golden skin on display, except for some cut-off jean shorts. Hair like a wheat-field in the midst of summer. As fast and as strong as an Olympian.” Hera’s eyes unfocused as she mentally pictured the fighter moving about in the ring. He had danced around his larger opponent with feet as light as feathers, landing blows that she could feel in her chest.

And then he’d flirted with some woman in the front row.

Hera’s blood boiled. Outside, a lightning bolt forked through the sky. Unbeknownst to her, her wings popped into existence, filling a quarter of the kitchen. Lost in her memories, she didn’t notice Demi’s squeak of dismay.

His flirtation had cost him his match and he had limped out of the ring while the fickle audience had applauded the troll.

Hera had left Odin and slipped off to the side, where she’d quickly written a letter to the handsome fighter, hoping that she could be balm to his wounded soul. She desperately needed to feel his hips between her thighs. Perhaps his shoulders, too, at some point during the evening. She’d signed it with her initial and lipstick print and sent it off with an attendant.

The resulting answer had crushed her faster than she thought possible.

“I’m pretty, aren’t I?” Hera asked Demi, giving herself a shake that brought her back to the present.

“Beautiful,” Demi agreed readily.

“Desirable?”

Demi stopped making little rounds of dough and put her hands on her hips. “Of course you are.” She called attention to Hera’s wings. “Would you mind putting those away? I need to get the cinnamon and they’re in the way.”

“Oh, drat.” Hera frowned and concentrated on calming herself down so that her wings would disappear. Once they did her bidding, she reached behind her back and felt the damage to her sweater. “Argh!”

Demi snapped her fingers and the shirt mended itself. “Still can’t do that yourself?” She started shaking cinnamon into a new bowl of dough.

“Nope. I can’t fix anything my wings have damaged,” Hera grumbled.

“No matter. I’m here for you this time, but you really do need to go see Arachne and get some of her divine creations so you won’t have that issue anymore.” Demi turned to grab something else from the other side of the kitchen. “What’s your plan now?”

Hera shrugged. “I’ve had lots of lovers,” she said, half to herself. “None of them have ever left my bed unsatisfied. Why does one man’s rejection hurt so much?” Her words ended on a squeaky gasp that made her cringe.

Demi hugged her from the side and Hera rested her head on the comforting shoulder. “His rejection probably had nothing to do with you. Was he even single?”

Hera opened and closed her mouth. “You know, I have no idea.” A tiny giggle escaped and she clapped a hand over her mouth. “My goodness, I can’t believe I was so forward without even introducing myself!”

“There you go.” Demi stroked Hera’s hair softly. “Are you feeling better?”

“Where were you last night when I was in the depths of despair?” Hera groaned. “I feel so silly that I let this get to me!”

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