Goddess of the Rose (Goddess Summoning #4)(34)

The Guardian bared his teeth. What did a priestess know of love and trust! What did any mortal woman know of such things!

He sensed the crowd approaching the temple and commanded more shadow and night to surround him. The women of the realm could not see him as they passed the great oak, but they sensed his presence and averted their eyes from the darkness that hid him, nervously making a wide path around the tree. When they shouted with joy at the completion of the ritual and began to welcome her with song and dance, the Guardian felt as if he had become a great island of misery amidst an ocean of rejoicing.

And still he could not stop himself from looking at her again. She was closing the circle. The changing light of the goddess's flame caressed her naked skin. Her body enticed him as she acknowledged each of the elements and bid them depart. Without conscious thought, his claws tightened on the tree, slashing deep grooves into the ancient bark.

In response to the flexing of his muscles, pain shot through his arms and chest. He welcomed it. The pain reminded him of his banishment and the reason for it. He had been bespelled for generations because of his weakness. What perfect irony. He was a beast. He had physical strength that no mortal man could match, yet weakness had caused him to betray his duty, and, ultimately, himself.

Not again. I will not allow it to happen again.

Then his mind cleared as a new thought formed. Perhaps all of this - the dreams of her, the awakening and now the return of the agony of his desire - perhaps it was all part of the goddess's test.

Yes . . . he straightened, sheathing the daggers that were his claws. It did make sense. Hecate was providing him the opportunity to regain her sacred trust. He was being tempted so he could prove to her that it would not happen again.

Never again would he betray his goddess and his realm.

He would perform his goddess-appointed duties as Guardian of the Realm of the Rose. And when it was time for Beltane's Spring Ritual, he would complete his charge, sending this new Empousa to meet her destiny.

With a mighty effort of will, the Guardian repressed the longing within him. He would not give in to his weakness again. For countless generations he had protected Hecate's magickal realm. He had been ever vigilant. He had been tireless in his devotion. And he had been alone, even during the brief moments when he had imagined that his solitude might come to an end.

He remembered the pain of discovering just how wrong he had been and knew that the misery of that rejection had been greater than all the years of loneliness that had preceded it.

What the last Empousa had said had been true. He was a beast. A woman might become fond of him, might treat him with compassion, as she would a favorite cat or an especially loyal hound, but a woman could never truly love a beast. It mattered little that the goddess had gifted him with the heart and soul of a man. The heart and the soul were within the body of a beast. It was his destiny to be alone, and destiny could not be changed.

With one last look at the new Empousa, he turned away. Duty. That must be his life.

But part of my duty is to ensure the Empousa's safety . . . to make certain she is well cared for . . . The man within him whispered temptation. Would any of the handmaidens remember that the Empousa must eat and drink after the ritual to ground herself? Of course not. And she . . . He paused and glanced over the corded muscle of his shoulder at where laughing women surrounded her. She was so inexperienced she had to be led in the casting of a circle. She would not know that she must ground herself and use food and drink to replenish her strength. Again, he forced his gaze from the Empousa. Snarling a hasty command, he drew darkness closely about him and made his way unseen from the temple celebration. When he was clear of the crowd, he picked up his pace, clenching his teeth against the pain that radiated from leg muscles that had just the day before been dead stone. It is only another part of my duty as Guardian to order her meal prepared and to be certain that she partake of it. Yes, only another part of my duty . . .

His cloven hooves thudded against the soft ground with a shy, secretive voice that seemed to echo the word liar . . . liar . . . liar . . .

Chapter Twelve

IT was only when she stopped dancing that Mikki felt the return of her sick dizziness. So many women . . . she put a hand to her sweaty forehead and brushed back a mass of tangled hair. And every one of them had a word of welcome for her, just as they each wanted to dance and twirl and laugh with her. She was breathing hard and her legs felt wobbly. She was definitely all danced out.

"Empousa?" Nera peered into her face. "Are you well?"

"I'm just tired. It's been a long day."

"Come with me." Gii was suddenly beside her, tucking a steadying hand into her elbow. The handmaiden began to lead her in a weaving path between the revelers, heading back in the direction of the palace.

"Do you wish the other handmaidens to accompany you, Empousa?" Gii asked when Nera, Floga, and Aeras noticed they were leaving and paused in their celebration.

"No!" Mikki said hastily, gesturing at the young women to stay. The last thing she wanted right now was to be fussed over. Actually, solitude and something to drink sounded perfect. "And you don't have to leave, either, Gii. I'm sure I can find my way back to my bedroom."

"It is my honor to accompany you," Gii said firmly. Then she smiled and spoke the Empousa's regrets to the women who would have drawn Mikki back into the celebration, smoothly extracting the High Priestess from the throng. Mikki sighed and resigned herself to Gii's mothering.