Goddess of the Rose (Goddess Summoning #4)(62)

Mikki rubbed at her eyes again. Okay, maybe it was a rule. Maybe no one was allowed to be close to him. The smart thing to do would be to talk to Hecate about him. To ask the goddess about . . . about . . . about what? Did she really want to ask the imposing Hecate if it was okay that her new Empousa had a crush on the man-beast that was her Guardian? Please. Mikki wasn't an idiot. It wasn't okay. Asterius had made that clear. If she asked the goddess outright and Hecate commanded her to stay away from him, then what would she do? She'd have to keep her distance from him. Wouldn't she?

Better not to ask at all.

Was she actually considering pursuing him, even after what had happened between them the night before? Yes. Yes, she was. Mikki had no idea where it would take them, but she couldn't forget the physical jolt that passed through his body when she'd touched him. She rubbed her wrist absently, remember the heat of his lips. And beyond his physical magnetism, she'd seen the vast loneliness that seemed to shadow his every unguarded expression, even as he rejected her touch. But he's so used to being treated like an abomination that maybe his rejection is more about fear and habit than the desire to push me away.

She needed to think more about where she was heading. She needed to think more about Asterius. Mikki shivered as the early morning breeze whipped through her sheer nightdress. The hot springs would be all dreamy and steamy on a cool morning like this . . . what better place to think?

Before she started down the balcony stairs to follow the path around the side of the palace, Mikki closed her eyes and sent Daphne a quick thought.

MIKADO was thinking about him as she bathed. He could sense it - feel it. Not because she was calling to him. It was nothing that specific. She was just thinking about him. He shouldn't be able to sense it. He shouldn't know. But he did.

This had never before happened. In all the eons he had been Hecate's Guardian, and all the generations of her Empousas who had presided as High Priestess within the realm, he had never felt the thoughts of one of Hecate's chosen.

Just as he had never felt the gentleness of any Empousa's touch. Not even the priestess he had loved . . . and who he thought might possibly have loved him in return. No woman had ever touched him caressingly. He only had a vague recollection of his mother sneaking into the labyrinth a few times. One of those times he thought he remembered her touching his cheek. But it had been so long ago and such a brief caress. Yet this woman, this mortal from the mundane world, had not just touched him willingly. She had accepted his caress in return; she had shivered beneath his lips.

The touch of a woman . . . such a small, ordinary thing, really. Mortals and gods alike thought little of it. They touched on greeting and on parting. They touched as they laughed and talked. They touched when they loved. Yes, such a small, ordinary thing . . . unless it had been a thing denied. How he had longed for the kindness of a woman's touch to soothe the beast within and without.

Mikado's touch had undone him.

His moan of frustration changed to a rumbling growl as he propelled himself from his sleeping pallet. She had called him Asterius and said she believed in the man within the monster. Then she had allowed him to kiss her! Surely she meant nothing more than kindness. She couldn't realize that her touch and her words were seducing the man as well as calling the beast to her. His hooves cut into the marble floor of his lair as he paced. She couldn't know how desperately he had wanted to kneel at her feet and beg her never to stop touching him . . . thinking of him . . . talking to him as if she truly did believe in his humanity.

And then what? In the spring she must be sacrificed. In despair, he looked down at his hands as his claws extended. He could still feel the softness of her skin against their razorlike tips. Would he allow her to escape, as he had the deceiver who had come before her? No. He could not. The roses were sick, and he had little doubt as to why. Their last Empousa had fled without completing her destiny. What would happen to the realm if this one did the same?

He knew what would happen. It wouldn't survive.

If he would be the only one to pay the price, he would gladly do so. He knew it for truth, even though the thought shamed him. It meant he was willing to betray his goddess again. But no matter how desperately he longed for Mikado, he would not allow his own desires to cause the destruction of the Realm of the Rose.

His growl deepened, and he had to fight against the urge to rend and tear. The man within him held the beast at bay, but only just. The ache and yearning for the impossible that caused his emotions to be in turmoil also roused the monster within. She might believe in the man, but he was joined with the beast - they were one in the same. If she stirred the man, the beast roused. He had to remember that no matter how sweetly she may speak his true name, or how sweetly she might touch him and let him touch her, she would be imagining the man. What would happen when she realized that she was seducing the beast, too?

She would reject him. Anything else was only a dream. And he, of all creatures, knew how insubstantial dreams really were. He must forget the dream and deal in reality, which was what he did best.

And none of this mattered. He could not love her - he could barely touch her without feeling the raging pain of Hecate's spell.

Asterius's head suddenly lifted and his eyes widened. That was it! He didn't have to hold the beast at bay. The goddess had tethered the monster for him. He could stay as close to Mikado as she would allow; the goddess's spell would ensure that he never went too far . . . all he need do would be to bear some pain. When it became too much, too unendurable . . . he remembered the feel of her skin against his lips and her small hand within his. Yes, he could endure a taste of the goddess's punishment for the miracle that was the touch of Mikado's skin.