Acheron was slowly learning to trust in Artemis again. Either that or he was just becoming a more obedient pet. There were times when he wasn't sure which category he fell into.
She came to him when she was bored or hungry and ignored him when she had other obligations.
But at least she'd kept her word not to hit him anymore. In fact he hadn't been hurt in weeks now since Artemis kept him out of his father's way, too.
He currently sat in her temple, on the white chaise that was set in the middle of her receiving room. One of her maids had called her away and she'd sealed him inside before she left. Bored out of his mind, he cast his gaze around the room until he spied a golden kithara lying on a cushion on the floor in a corner.
Mesmerized by it, he retrieved the instrument and held it reverently in his hands. He hadn't played music since he'd left Atlantis. Music had been one of many things he'd been taught and he'd had a natural aptitude.
The thing he'd always loved most had been the way the music made him feel. Like plays, he could lose himself to the song and notes.
He strummed the strings and cringed at how badly out of tune it was. But after a minute, he had it back to perfection. Content for once, he started playing.
Artemis paused before she materialized back into her temple. At first she thought it was her niece Satara playing the kithara that she used to entertain Artemis and her koris. Until she heard the deep and beautiful male voice singing in a low perfect pitch. The song, so tender and heartfelt, brought tears to her eyes.
She'd never suspected that Acheron possessed such talent. Not even the muses could compete.
Solidifying in the room, she listened while he kept his back to her. "You're amazing," she breathed, moving to sit behind him.
He stopped instantly.
As he started to set it aside, she stopped him. "Please keep playing."
"I only like to play when I'm alone."
"Why?"
"Because it makes people want to fuck me."
She tsked at his contrariness. "You shouldn't use words like that around me, Acheron. I'm a goddess. You need to show me more respect."
"Forgive me, akra."
Artemis sat back with a sigh at his subservience. She hated whenever he took that tone. It was the fire and defiance in him that she craved. Whenever he relaxed, that was the side he showed her. But the moment she corrected him, he immediately fell into this role he wore right now.
And she despised it.
She pushed the instrument toward him. "Would you play for me? There's only the two of us and I should like to hear your voice."
He returned the kithara to his lap and idly strummed it.
She leaned against his back and held him while he played. "What other talents do you have that you've hidden from me?"
"I'm accomplished at anything that entertains others."
"Such as?"
"Musical instruments, song, strega, massage, dance and fucking."
"Acheron!" She hid her smile behind his shoulder. So he wasn't quite subservient after all.
"I was only answering your question."
Sure he was . . . Her Acheron could be quite a handful and in more ways than one. "Can you dance as well as you play?"
"Better."
She found that impossible to believe. "Show me."
"There will be no music if I stop playing to dance."
She pulled the kithara from his hands. "There will be." She used her powers to continue the song. "Now show me what you can do."
He stood up and turned to face her. Holding his hand out, he waited for her to take it before he pulled her to her feet. True to his words, he was an elegant dancer. He moved with a graceful beauty that was almost godlike.
The more they danced, the more she ached for a taste of him. Her body on fire, she jerked him into her arms, intent on stripping him naked.
"Artemis!" Apollo's call shook her.
Acheron saw the doors to Artemis's temple opening. The next thing he knew, he was falling onto the floor of his own bedroom. The stone slammed painfully into his body as he landed flat on his back. His breath rushed out of him in a loud oof.
"You could have put me on my feet or in the bed," he said from between clenched teeth.
A bright light flashed in the room an instant before the kithara landed on top of his stomach. Acheron cursed in pain. It'd been a nice thought of hers, but damn . . . for a goddess renowned for her aim in hunting, her aim in this left much to be desired.
He'd barely risen to his feet before his own doors swung open to show Ryssa.
"Where have you been?" she demanded in a tone he'd seldom heard her direct at him. It was anger mixed with worry.
He set the kithara on his bed before he answered. "I don't know what you mean."
"I've been looking for you. You were gone for hours."
It was strange how time on Olympus passed very differently from time here. To him, it seemed as if only minutes had passed. "I was nowhere important."
She narrowed her gaze on him as she drew near. It was a probing gaze as if she were trying to unravel a mystery. "There's something different about you."
"There's nothing different."