Let's check in on our favorite deathly Fate back in B.C....
P.S. For the role of the Egyptian tomb robber - whose name we will learn in this scene ;) - I envision Jensen Ackles with a super intense tan, hair dyed several shades darker, and the same glorious golden-green eyes that he has in real life. The sepia-tone gif posted with this scene is meant to give you all some sense of the (freaking gorgeous!!) image of him in my head, hehe ;)
Scene 6: The Fire
Even if some part of her might've hesitated to return to a house in which the hostess had smashed a searing hot saucepan into her head when last she'd visited... that little part of her, the voice of reason or whatever, was as good as dead. Ever since the moment she'd laid eyes on that one man's goddamned face again. There was no way in hell she was venturing elsewhere on the morrow, if this next morning would bring any chance of seeing him - or maybe even feeling, touching, tasting, everything...
She blinked as she woke, in the same humble hut in this little village of Egyptian exiles on the outskirts of Nubia, where she had been knocked unconscious some hours ago. Noted that she was lying on some very sorry excuse for a bed - so hard and coarse that it was barely any different from the earthen floor below. Quite a far cry from the sumptuous bed in which she'd woken up on her first night on earth, she remembered. The almighty pharaoh's. Right now, though, she could not possibly have cared less about linens and pillows.
For the next thing she saw when she blinked once again was a vision of beautifully bare skin, a dark bronze that glowed like salvation and glistened like sin, every ridge and bulge of rippling muscle underneath, the body just as strong and just as striking as the soul she knew it sheathed. She knew because, on her last visit to the Cave, even the sight of his simple grey thread had looked sexy.
He was across the room, his back to her as he started a fire in the hearth, all the while stirring fires far fiercer in her heart. His flawless form was mostly naked, save for some stupidly situated piece of shıt - a loincloth, or whatever humans liked to call it. The placement of it was insanely inconvenient. Who'd ever invented this?
Before she could think any further about it, he turned his head, and she was dead - the worst and the best, the deathliest and most alive kind of dead. Even more so as he presently finished tending to the fire, stood up and crossed the small room toward the bed.
He stared down at her, lusciously full lips parted in something between a ferocious snarl and a flirtatious smirk. "The beast awakens."
With an equally flirtatious bat of her lashes, she tilted her head. "Beast?" she repeated, remembering then how he felt about her. How could she have ever forgotten. In the pharaoh's court, where he had blamed her for the death of his brother, his raging hatred toward her had been exciting. "Oh, right. You still blame me for what happened that night."
When he squatted beside her now, the loincloth almost shifted in just the right way, with that motion... Almost. So much so that it must have been on purpose, some sadistic twist of his - so cruel, so close...
"I blame you for being a bitch," he declared.
She forced herself to look up from his torturously covered crotch to his face, both of their dark green gazes ablaze. "First beast, now bitch - such high praise. Coming from a man who doesn't even know me."
His snarling smirk broke into a snicker, matched in his eyes with a provocative flicker. "Oh, I know all I need to, about you. Atria."
Her soul burst into flame, when he uttered her name. She figured that he must've heard it said by someone in the pharaoh's court, on that bloody night - so his knowledge of it didn't really come as a surprise. But his utterance of it was... sigh. He had said it just right. As if this name, the mortal name she had spontaneously chosen for herself one day, was the only name she'd ever had in her immortal life. And as if the name were made for him to say, to scream, to whisper every night...
YOU ARE READING
The Fates (Book II)Fantasy
The SECOND book of the award-winning series THE FATES: a saga of three mortal girls who also happen to be mythical goddesses... and the all-powerful directors of human destiny. The series alternates between their modern-day drama and their epic adve...