Cursed [malexmale]

Chapter One

Not even kidnapping his imp lover had endeared him to me, not that I thought it would. I had just hoped the imp would be able to talk him into listening to me. But not even Dorean had the power to persuade Xenon to my side, and even after Xenon found out why I had done what I had done, he refused to accept me. He wanted an apology and I would never give him one.

At least, not the one he wanted.

I was sorry he was cursed into servitude.

But I was not sorry I had gotten rid of the Atlanteans.

And unfortunately, the deal with the Source didn't last. A stupid cult of desdios, Atlantean demons that served the gods, stumbled across the cubic key and released the Atlanteans and with that, all the hell that came with them and it was only when Xenon realized how truly dark our pantheon was that he finally looked at me, but it was not with joy.

His heart was broken and mine broke further for him. I hadn't wanted Xenon to live with the idea that our pantheon was cruel, but it was too late. Xenon knew the truth now and so did the rest of the world.

Now it was war.

And the Source had yet to release me from my servitude, resulting in my current situation with the Greek god, Apollo, my lord and master.

Oh yes, we'd come a long way from the days when we were ruling gods, a long way from those centuries of peace from the Atlanteans, but now it was all over and war lingered constantly.

It'd gotten even worse when my cousin had come to warn me that Atlan, king of the Atlantean pantheon, was gunning for me now that he knew the truth, that I had been the one to destroy our pantheon- and I would do it again in a heartbeat.

I reached up, running a hand through long red hair that Apollo had ordered me to keep. It was a pain, especially the fact that it was past my waist and in constantly need of grooming. I missed my darker hair, missed the convenient shoulder length waves that I would only need to wash and go, instead of constantly brushing to ensure it wasn't tangled or knotted in ways that would infuriate my master. I lowered my hand to the bed, frowning as I glanced one last time at the master who lay in the bed beside me.

I wasn't fond of Greeks; my hatred for them wasn't nearly as powerful as, say, Atlan's. However, there was an old distaste for them after having fought them and having been forced to serve several of them. Apollo was the gentlest of all the masters I'd ever had, but he was also the most pathetic.

His eyes were swollen, pink. He'd been crying, but I hadn't noticed. I must have been asleep. A small tingle of my inner protectiveness, usually dormant, rushed through me and almost gave me the impulse to stroke his hair in an attempt to sooth him, but I didn't dare. While Apollo wasn't the cruelest of masters, he wasn't the most pleasant. His temper snapped if he felt as if he were being coddled, and unfortunately, he saw my protection abilities as coddling and would lash out violently if I were to try and comfort him.

No, the only comfort this pathetic crybaby wanted was seduction, something I wasn't eager to do. I had grown tired and disgusted in sexual activities. In fact, if Apollo went an entire without requesting it, I would consider that the best day of my life.

I slid back down into bed, and no sooner had I gotten comfortably did Apollo draw closer to me, his arm going around my torso and bringing me against him. He snuggled down against me, sighing quietly before he settled. I tilted my head back against the pillow to stare up at the ceiling, frowning.

Despite the quiet night, the peaceful breeze that still kept it warm enough to sleep with thin sheets, a deep feeling of dread hung heavy inside me. My cousin's words hung over my head like a dark cloud, even more so, the bruises on the bottoms of my feet and my ankles where Apollo had taken his anger out on me for my cousin's defiance also darkened my mood. I was grateful for my cousin's defense, but he sorely underestimated Apollo's reaction.