Fate of the Blessed
Chapter 11

Aeron

I stared at an unconscious Amara lying on my bed as I sat in a large, lavish chair, my feet lazily propped up on a small footstool. She had been out for a couple of hours now and my patience for her to wake up was wearing thin. I rubbed my hands in frustration before running my fingers through my hair.

I gazed upon her features as she slept. Although people wouldn’t call her “super model” beautiful, she still held an enchantment to her that wouldn’t allow my eyes to part from her unmoving frame. Her hair like ember framed her face, her heavy fringe sitting just above her eyebrows. Her small, dainty nose with plump lips was perfect in my eyes.

She looked so serene that I almost felt bad for what I had to do next. Her split lip shattered that illusion. I was livid when I had saw what Nemesis had done to her; it was an unnecessary force, but it would be unwise to challenge her, as her loathing for men was legendary. I’d sooner wake up with a knife in my chest if I had punished her. The fates could deal with her instead. She would receive her karma one day.

Sending Nemesis in was a risk I had to take, giving the fact that once the power in Amara’s orb had been harnessed, the gate would open and the Overworld would know the wrath of the Gods, it was what my mistress wanted. I still didn’t fully understand what made her orb so different to everyone else’s, but what I knew was the power that radiated from it was immense. The intense rush that ran through my body when I had touched it had almost floored me.

I closed my eyes, savouring the warm feeling it had given me. It was just a sample of the possibilities that were held within it. However, the plan could not be put into motion until the moment was right.

“Oh, the fun I’m going to have with you in the meantime.” I said to her sleeping form. 

I continued to watch her when Phobos entered the room. I held no desire to speak to anyone. Especially idiots like him.  

“My liege...” Phobos said, bowing as he did so. I raised my eyebrows in question, but said nothing. 

Phobos cleared his throat and continued anyway, “I’m here to prepare for your next orders, sire.”

I didn’t stir but waved my hand in dismissal. I was in no mood to deal with Phobos. My last nerve was wearing thin with the pair of them. The sooner I could get rid of them, the better.

“I will tell you, Phobos, when I need you. Do not come back into my chambers unless I bid you too.” Phobos glared but bowed again and took his leave. I told him to stop.

“If you do so again, I will flay your skin and nail it to my door.” Phobos stalked from the room, humiliated.

I shook my head and rose from where I was sitting. My eyes settled on the pale green orb in the middle of the room. It pulsed with power. It had caused me a substantial amount of energy to trap all the souls in one place. Some had escaped my grasp, but they were unimportant. The one I needed was right in front of me. It filled my heart with joy at the fact we were so close to our goal so I could contain my emotions.

What was it about this girl and her orb?

There was something more, something special that emanated from the girl herself. I paced up and down my room; I was becoming fidgety with impatience. She wasn’t waking up; it was irritating me. She hadn’t even stirred when I had gotten my handmaidens to wash and dress her; she was filthy. How much sleep powder did Deimos give her?

Behind me, I heard a soft moan as I turned on my heel. Her eyes fluttered. She was waking up. My mouth turned upwards into a callous smirk.

Now the fun can begin. 

Amara

I put my hand to my mouth; it throbbed. My head felt as though someone was repeatedly hitting a hammer against my skull. Then I remembered Nemesis’ fist flying towards my face before the lights had gone out. I prodded my bottom lip, touching the broken skin and scab that formed. My hand moved upward, and I prodded at my tender cheekbone. 

There is going to be a bruise in the morning. Whenever that would be, darkness seems to rain here.

My head was fuzzy, like someone had stuffed it with cotton wool. I sat up, but I froze when something silky touched my legs and a soft chiffon brush against my stomach. It wasn’t the grubby nightie that I had been wearing but a clean off white Grecian style one shouldered dress which was pulled up to my thighs. This shot me awake and I was frantic as I tried to pull it further down. When it reached my knees, I breathed a sigh of relief at protecting my modesty.

Oh God, where am I, and what the hell am I wearing?

Questions were swirling around in my head. Who dressed me? How did I get here? Where was here? Panicking, I scrabbled up on the bed but became tangled in the sheet that was draped over me. I must stop with the unconscious thing. It wasn’t even funny anymore. What the hell will people be thinking apart from rolling their eyes at my pathetic display of heroism. I always thought I was a strong independent woman but the amount of times I’ve fainted or been unconscious leads to evidence on the contrary.

In my panic, I didn’t notice the handsome young man that stood in the corner, regarding me with amusement. He held an evil glint in his eyes, and his mouth was tipped up at one side, smirking. My eyes scanned the room. A look of sheer horror crossed my face when I met his crimson eyed gaze. I squirmed under his intense scrutiny, which seemed to amuse him further.

My breath caught in my throat. He was stunning, with long jet black hair slicked back and shaved at the sides. Dressed in a black shirt and a pair of leather pants, he was what one would call, for lack of better words, a typical bad-boy.

Grow up, Amara, a bad boy? What the hell is wrong with you? This isn’t one of your romance novels.

I shuck the thoughts away in my head. He stood with his arms folded across his chest; we stared at each other. Neither of us wanted to break eye contact. It was time for me to assert my strength and independence. I was not a damsel in distress. Ah, who was I kidding this is terrifying, I could be across from a pervert or serial killer, or worse, a perverted serial killer. I looked away.

Why did all the bad guys have to be super-hot? Who the hell writes this shit?

I was at a loss for words as an incredible shyness overcame me. Had he seen me? I paused for a second. Naked? When I realised this, my face turned from horror to embarrassment in a split second. Heat rose in my cheeks, and I knew my face was now a wonderful shade of beetroot. This only intensified his smile, as if he had read my thoughts. 

I hope he is having fun because I am going to wipe that smirk off his face!

“Amara, what a pleasure it is to meet you?” he mocked, playing with my name on his tongue. I didn’t like the way he made it sound... almost dirty.

I scurried up the bed, pressing my back into the headboard, as if by some miracle I would melt into it. He stepped closer to me, taking slow, purposeful steps, but I stayed silent.

He is toying with me.

The butterflies in my stomach deepened. Oh my goodness, he was getting closer. I felt the odd pang of desire. I shook my head trying to get rid of the thought; it was absurd. The Mágissa had told me I would know what to do when the time came. Well, by damn, I hoped that time was now, but the epiphany that I was waiting for never came. Typical. Aeron crossed the room and sat on the bottom of the bed whilst I was still trying to make myself melt into the wall. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” he asked, smoothing his hair with his hand. I shook my head in response. I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I stayed silent.

His gorgeous red eyes flashed in anger and lightning fast as he was on the bed, pinning her up against the headboard. I hadn’t even seen him move. I didn’t bother struggling I knew it would be pointless against his strength; it rendered me still.

“Don’t test me, little girl,” He smirked. His face was dangerously close to mine. So close in fact that I could detect the peppermint on his breath as a fluttering and warmth stirred in my stomach. He sensed this and grinned. 

No way this couldn’t be happening. This creep couldn’t turn me on. Amara, get a grip of yourself.

I swallowed, averting my gaze from his, my face a flaming shade of scarlet. It terrified me and he seemed to take great pleasure in this. A trickle of sweat slid down between my shoulder blades, Aeron came closer, nuzzling and kissing the nape of my neck. I stiffened. His arms moved to pin me above my head as he moved onto his knees. He slid one in between my legs; I shifted uncomfortable, trying to turn my head away from his gaze.

“Do you like that, Amara.” He said. I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but his grip was vice like.

“Go fuck yourself.” I flung my head forward, head-butting him. He let go of me, reeling backwards, holding his bloodied nose. I could feel the anger radiating from him in waves.

I rolled off the bed and scrambled to get up from the floor, darting for the ludicrously oversized chamber doors. My hand flew for the handle. I was so close. A hand clamped around my hair, pulling me back with so much force I flew backward, crashing to the ground as I skidded across the marble floor. I cried out in pain, holding my bloodied knee.

Looking up, I caught his eye, which was glaring at me with malice and contempt. His mouth held a malevolent smile. I shuddered, fearful about what he was going to do next. He strolled across the floor in long strides; I tried to put distance between us, but he was too fast. He put his hand round my throat, lifting me off my feet with ease. My eyes went wide with fear as I struggled for air. I clawed at his arm to let me go. He laughed in response.

“Where do you think, you’re going, bitch?”

Aeron

I dropped her; she held her throat coughing. I circled her, toying with her. She kept her head to the ground.

“Are you enjoying your stay yet?” I taunted.

I left her on the floor, weeping as I walked back over to the plinth that held her orb. It was pulsing; I went to reach out for it, but pulled my hand back, remembering the last time I did so. When they were here because of trauma, the residual aftermath can be fervent. Alongside their soul, an orb also held their last moments. It was the reason they weren’t able to remember how they got here. I show it to them when the time is right, when acceptance is guaranteed. It helps them decide whether they want to move on or go back. Sometimes they don’t have a choice, time runs out for them.

“What do you want with me?” I gave a bitter laugh and pointed to her orb.

“I want what is inside of that, your soul.”

She reeled at my words, the look of shock registering on her face. I wiped away the blood from my nose with the back of my hand. I gazed at her orb, realisation setting in the more I looked. The time I had been here I had never seen the like. She was thrice blessed; they were special and weren’t supposed to pass through here.

“I thought it was a myth.” I said to myself, ignoring Amara behind me.

This was a game changer. I was told the power within her orb would be enough to open the gate, allowing us to roam the Overworld, but these would be enough to open all the doors. It would unleash all hell. Was this what she wanted? From the corner of my eye I saw Amara scrabble to her feet and run for the door, but I let her go. There wasn’t anywhere she could go as all the roads led back here. Her orb was the only way she could escape, the only way she could move on. I wiped the blood from my nose and looked at it smeared across my fingers.

Thrice blessed, an individual who has reached the Elysian Fields in three past lives. They rarely end up here in Midgard.

“Run little Amara, you’ll be back soon enough.”