The Taste Of Divinity

Δ Ε Κ Α Ε Ξ Ι

He was a God, in every sense of the word.

And she was merely his sacrifice.

Did he thirst for her blood?

Or was he after something much more vital?

Her knees trembled, weak.

The world around her disappeared.

"Please, no more." A broken plead, an all consuming need.

Her thighs grew slick.

Her body was plastered to his as though he was a life line and not the end.

Minutes passed, endless minutes of his promises materialising every time her eyelids fluttered closed.

"Listen to my voice and let me carry you out of it." His voice still carried traces of the sinful pleasure of his promises. His breath fanned her neck, harsh and uneven. The evidence of his need pressed into her back. "Come to me, my love. Return to me."

The unconscious usage of those words made his bones tremble. Especially when he caught the thunder shinning in her eyes. "Do not dare use endearments on me."

A sigh.

A sign of relief that would forever remain without a name, desperately clinging to characterisations that did not suit it.

"Why have you brought me here?" She inquired minutes later, when she'd finally regained her composure.

"This is where we take our oaths." His lips twitched, just barely. "It seemed appropriate to follow the tradition."

"Why?"

"It was what began our tale." His thumb drew patterns on the sensitive skin of her arm, grazing the light hair that stood shaking. "Many years ago, I made Zeus promise me the wife of my choice by these waters. I made sure that one day he wouldn't deny me and that you would stand here beside me."

"I'm much more than a. . ." She didn't know what to say, she didn't know what she was. An object without will to be passed around? A woman? A Goddess? A force of nature? "What oath would you have me take? That I will not abandon you? That I will stand beside you and rule everything that bows before your sky?"

"Yes."

"Why?" She was tired. Tired of fighting him, tired of spending her nights wiping away tears and ruining the gifts he left for her, tired of fighting her body and her heart and stealing glances at him when she thought he didn't notice. "Why would you want to keep me here?"

He wet his lips, his tongue sliding almost suggestively over his bottom lip. "You were made for me."

"Made for you? Out of your skin and soul?" She laughed but it was a dark, mournful sound that would even bring tears to Thanatos' eyes. "We don't have souls, polydegmon. Or else, we wouldn't lead such dreadful, meaningless lives."

"Dreadful?"

Her head felt heavy. A migraine was beginning to form. "How long do you think your love will last? A decade? Perhaps more? How long until you find that what you are looking for in me to complete yourself isn't here? What happens then, am I discarded? Returned to my mother? What will she take back, a creature that resembles her daughter but isn't?"

She didn't offer him the opportunity to speak.

"And say you keep me, here by your side to rule the darkness and the shadows I so long to escape. How can you stand living with yourself knowing that I'll never forgive you for tearing me away from my mother? How can you stand living with yourself knowing that I'll always hate you for tricking me, for never telling me of your intentions?"