The Revelation (Pandora's Harem 1) A Reverse Harem Tale(14)

I do as he says and stare up at him.

He leans forward and brushes his lips against mine.

I open for him, let him in.

His tongue fills my mouth, tangles with mine and then explores my teeth. Fresh mint sates my taste buds.

Something strange happens.

Lycus takes a deep breath, through his mouth, sucks the air from my lungs…or so it seems, but I still breathe.

He thrusts between my legs one more time, his huge cock returning to stuff me.

I moan. The pain in my chest now gone.

Lycus lifts his head and rams me once again. He spills himself inside me. And he grunts. A low, guttural sound that’s all wild animal. All wolf.

Spasms ripple through my body.

I cry out.

Warmth spreads across my skin, into my veins and muscles.

Whatever was inside me is now gone. I sense no pain, no foreign entity in my chest.

“You’re safe,” Lycus says, crashing on top of me.

I reach up and wrap my arms around his neck.

Ares returns to the bed, snuggling up to my right side. The heat coming off his body snakes into mine.

Leonidas takes over the left half of the bed.

Glad I have a king-size, or the four of us would never fit.

I sigh. I never thought facing danger and then saving me, could be so pleasurable.





Chapter 7





After several hours of sleep, Lycus leaves me. He grabs a blanket and heads for the sofa in the living room.

Ares follows, but opts for spending the rest of the night on the floor with a pillow and sheet.

Only Leonidas remains in bed. A soft snore comes from his sleeping form.

After tonight’s ordeal with Moros’s little visitor, I think Leonidas is right, my apartment isn’t safe anymore. Even with three battle-ready Spartans living within its walls. Which brings me back to my missing box. Moros wouldn’t have sent his brothers or that bobbing minion of an entity of his, if he didn’t think I was up to something. But I still have no clue where Hope and my box are. So why did he make such efforts to disrupt my life?

Chaos.

I know she’s probably telling all the gods she’s doing this because Moros and his brothers are her daughter’s sons, but she’s not the type of goddess to love or even care for anyone. She’s Chaos, for the gods’ sake. She probably has some other reason for stirring up all this discord, and I’ll bet it’s only for her personal gain. I wouldn’t put it past her to use her grandsons.

I’m starting to really dislike my former professor and now current boss. Oh, crap, work. I can’t go back to the university now. Not after everything that took place today. I’m not safe there. But of all the places on this earth, save maybe for Greece itself and a handful of museums scattered across the globe, Thorel H. Lane’s collection is the finest group of scrolls, books, and artifacts linked to Greek Mythology. It’s the closest one can get to the ancient gods on this planet.

My mind wanders.

Without a job I’ll never make next month’s rent. I have to figure a way around all this crap, figure how to remain working while also keeping distance between me and the professor.

Chaos doesn’t do nights. She’s always been one for leaving promptly at five o’clock, which I never understood because everything else in her life always seems so scattered. Of course not having recognized the good professor as a goddess before yesterday, I had no clue about why she did what she did. All I knew was that she was never organized and constantly changed her mind. Discord rules her world.

Visions of Zeus’s book return to my thoughts. I slide out of bed, careful not to wake Leonidas and just as careful not to step on Ares, and go find my clothes.

I pluck my sweatshirt and jeans from the floor, but leave the socks and undies. I’m just going inside the other room.

Leaving behind my two sleeping Spartans, I traipse down the hall and into the kitchen. Under the archway, I stare into the living room. Lycus is stretched out on the sofa, my fleece blanket draping his muscular form. I wonder about his story. No man is that quiet without reason and it kills me to sense that deep down somewhere in the darkest depths of his soul, he is suffering. What, exactly, I’m not sure. But he does have a dark spot inside him and I’d love to help him learn how to heal his wound. He saved me tonight. It’s the least I can do to repay him. I pray he eventually lets me in.

I inch up to the coffee table and grab Zeus’s tome, pulling it in my direction.

The previously gold-painted edges are now silver. I shrug. I suppose if a book can repair itself, it can shift its design.

I plop my ass on the floor and start thumbing through the book’s pages, searching for some clue about the real Pandora. It sucks not knowing myself. I mean, I know what I like and what I hate, but I don’t know my soul. And until I find that box, I don’t believe I will ever know the true me.

The heady scent of rose mixed with other spices assaults my nose. It has to be my neighbor again, making those damn candles. Shutting Zeus’s book, I rise and head for the door. Mary needs to know she can’t keep this up. Tonight, I’m awake, but most nights I’m not and the odor from her darn candles rouses me from the deepest of sleeps.

It ends now.

I’m out the door and crossing the hall. The fragrance grows stronger as I get closer to the other apartment. Something familiar strikes my sense of smell. It’s not the cinnamon, though I’m well aware of how common it is, but it’s more something in the rose scent. A faint trace of an odd note I can’t quite place. But it’s familiar to me and not just to my nose. My entire body is aware of its essence. It’s like I want to scratch my skin off just to get away from the smell that envelopes me.