Loki was fuming, flames practically shooting out of his ears as he paced back and forth in Astraea's bedchambers. How could she be so stupid? He thought. For a moment, he scolded himself for even taking on her agreement. How could he be so foolish to think that she was clever enough to do this? She was a helpless native child, but of course, this was exactly what he wanted her to be.
"You ignorant child!" he spat.
Astraea's eyes widened, and she shot up to look at him. What did he just say? An ignorant child? That's right, that's what she heard, and now she was fuming. How dare he, the God of Mischief, call her a child when he himself gets kicked out of his own home on a regular basis? She was no child, and she wasn't about to be spoken to like one.
"ENOUGH!" she shouted, her voice ringing with authority. "You sir will never speak to me like that ever again, do you hear me? I am not some idiot you can just fool with all your tricks and ticks that you have. I AM a goddess, I am soon to be queen, Loki, and I will not sit here and listen to you. Your father doesn't care that my mother was killed!"
The tears fell down the girl's face in small droplets.
Drip, one.
Drip, two.
The God of Mischief was still. Astraea could see no sign of any emotion, and so she wondered what the young prince was thinking. Soft skin pressed against her cheeks as she straightened up.
"Wipe your own tears," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
The air was thick with the scent of jasmine and the unspoken. Astraea's voice trembled, not with fear, but with a fierce determination that belied her divine title. "I want to know who killed my mother, and I need you to help me. You want to be king, yes?"
Silence.
The silence that followed was deafening, filled only with the heavy breathing of two gods on the brink of forbidden alliance. Loki's eyes, usually dancing with mischief, now burned with an intensity that could set the world aflame, revealing more than words ever could.
"Then so be it," Astraea declared, her voice a whisper that carried the weight of her decision. "I, Astraea, Goddess of Innocence and Purity, under the eyes of Tatiana, priestess of the Divine Church, bind myself to Loki, God of Mischief." She knew the consequences, the fabric of reality quivering at her defiance, but desperation had woven itself into her very essence.
"Our lives, our desires, our destinies, are about to change," she murmured, the gravity of her words hanging between them like a palpable force.
"What ar—" Loki's voice was cut short, not by interruption but by the sudden, overwhelming sensation as Astraea closed the distance between them. Her lips, soft and tasting of honey and forbidden fruit, met his in a kiss that was both a seal and a spark. It was a kiss that spoke of hidden passions and the dark thrill of crossing lines that should never be blurred. In that moment, the air crackled with the electricity of their forbidden pact, a sensual dance of power and desire that promised to unravel or entwine their fates in ways neither could predict.
The air around them was alive, a mesmerizing dance of blue, purple, and white, casting ethereal glows that seemed to pulse with the heartbeat of the universe itself. For a fleeting moment, Loki felt suspended between worlds, the void of space and time enveloping him, yet the sensation was anything but empty.
Two halves, one whole.
A surge of euphoric bliss, intoxicating and deep, began to stir within the depths of his dark soul. Something profound was shifting, awakening. Overwhelmed yet thrillingly alive, his hands instinctively rose, cradling her face with a tenderness that belied his chaotic nature.
Desire.
The word itself felt like a tangible entity, wrapping around them, binding them closer. Loki's world went silent, a profound stillness that was both unsettling and exhilarating. As their lips parted, the silence lingered, their eyes closed, each lost in the other's essence.
"You are mine, and I am yours. Two halves of one whole, our souls now entwined. Bless us be," Astraea's voice was a mere breath, a whisper that vibrated through him, the echo of her words resonating deep within, stirring a persistent, electrifying tingle that refused to fade.
Loki's voice was a whisper, barely audible, yet it carried the weight of a storm brewing within him. "What did you do?" The question was more a breath than a demand, softer than the anger that raged in his mind. had she done?
Astraea's eyes met his, a serene ocean reflecting the turmoil of his own. "I gave you half of my soul," she murmured, her voice a gentle caress against the harshness of his thoughts. "I am now yours, Loki, God of Mischief." She inhaled slowly, her chest rising with a delicate grace. "The Great Divine is an ancient, cherished ritual of marriage among the Titans. It's a tradition that binds us and all magical beings through our Divine energy, what some might call a soul. On Titan, we split our souls, giving half to our chosen partner, foreverining us as two halves of one whole. This bond, Loki, is irrevocable, unbreakable. I am part of you now. You hold dominion over me, and through this, you ascend as king."
Loki felt conflicting emotions. The power of her words, the intimacy of her gift, it was overwhelming. Anger flickered within him, not at her action, but at the unexpected vulnerability it exposed in him. He was a master of chaos, meant to be tethered. Yet, the thought of her soul mingling with his, the intimacy of it, stirred something deep and primal. His heart raced with a mix of fury and an inexplicable tenderness.
He stepped back, his face a mask of conflict. "You should not have done this without my consent, Astraea," he growled, his voice thick with a tumult of feelings he couldn't name.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Pure as White
Fanfic"She was the Virgin Goddess of Innocence and purity. He was the God of Mischief. Though the two were very different in every single way that didn't stop them from falling in love. She hated most when she loved him the most and she loved him the mos...
