Accord for Apollo: Olympians Ascending, #6

By Sotia Lazu

I've chased Cassandra for millennia, though she's denied me and our bonding. I'd have given up long ago, if her resentful love didn't seep through our connection.

 

Now she's finally conceded to be mine, but at what cost? I don't want to own her because of a bet; I want her to accept what she feels for me. What we are to each other. What we have.

 

All I'm asking is for a chance to win her over. If I fail, I'm prepeared to forfeit the bond and my existence.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Acelette Press
• Release date: Mar 8, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201442774

Sotia Lazu

Sotia loves romances with a twist and urban fantasy novels, always with vivid erotic elements. Her favorite characters to write are not conventional hero-material at first glance, and she enjoys making them fight for their happiness. Sotia shares her life and living quarters with her husband, their son, and two rescue dogs, one of which may be part-pony. Sappy movies make her bawl like a baby, and she wishes she could take in all the stray dogs in the world. Also, she hates mornings!

Book preview

Prologue – Cassandra

Agod, in love with me.

No, not a god—the one I’ve served for the past decade. The most stunning, funny, thoughtful god in the world. If only Mother and Father knew when they promised me to him at birth that I wasn’t meant to be his priestess, but his love.

I twirl in a spot of sunlight, arms reaching for Helios himself, shining down on me. The smell of grass brings back memories of the magical night I spent with Apollo. His kisses, setting my body on fire. His touches, awakening desires I wasn’t supposed to have but now look forward to satiating with him. His promises for a life I never dreamed, full of miracles.

The giggle that escapes me at the thought of seeing the world at his side is utterly inappropriate for Apollo’s priestess, let alone the princess of Troy.

I glance over my shoulder. Did someone hear? Mother will scold me if word gets to her, never mind that I’m all of twenty years old this spring.

Nefeli shakes her head reassuringly, her warm brown eyes bright with excitement. It’s just the two of us in the temple, and she already knows. There are no secrets between us. She’s been my constant companion and confidant since childhood, and took her oath of abstinence when I did, to join me at Apollo’s temple.

Apollo released me of my oath last night, before we consummated our relationship. It’s only fair that he releases her, too. No reason she should miss out on the pleasures our body is capable of—oh, such pleasures—when I’m not planning to.

I’ll ask him when we meet later, and he can tell Father himself, when he asks for my hand in marriage.

We haven’t talked marriage yet, but he said he wants to be with me forever. That he cannot fathom a future without me.

Nefeli grins. You’d best lose that grin before you appear before King Priamus. He may not know a god has made a laughing mess out of his favorite daughter, but he’ll surely be able to tell something is amiss.

She’s right, of course.

I school my features into a placid expression, to betray nothing of the passion Apollo has awakened in me. It’s impossible to maintain my composure when I still feel his mouth on mine, though. My lips are swollen by his kisses, and when I lick them, I can taste him.

And I can taste you, my little hellion. He accompanies the words in my head with a mental image of himself, kneeling between my legs and lowering his mouth toward the apex of my thighs.

My cheeks burn, and I squeeze my thighs together, seeking the friction he taught me will bring me sweet release.

Not the time, Cassandra. His voice in my head scolds me, but I hear his mirth. His eagerness to teach me more. To expand my horizons so they encompass all of creation. To feed my never-ending hunger for knowledge.

He did share his gift of seeing the future with me. I can’t see what will happen with the two of us, because that would make for a mundane existence—his words, not mine, but it makes sense. For a moment last night, I saw myself in his arms, what I knew was an eternity from now, feeling fully sated and safe, but he says that was a daydream.

Still, I catch glimpses of little things that will come to pass. For example, on my way back to my quarters last night, I saw the guard turning my way moments before he actually did, which afforded me the time to duck behind a pillar and avoid getting caught.

Apollo says I’ll be able to have visions on command if I practice, but practice takes discipline, and at the moment, I don’t feel like discipline.

Apollo laughs.

I can’t see him, but he’s all around. Inside me. Filling me with a sense of wonder. We’re one, like he promised we would be when I offered myself to him on the very altar meant for sacrifices in his honor. I didn’t feel like a sacrifice—more like a goddess, the way he worshiped my body.

For months, I evaded him, more than aware of his reputation as a fickle lover, but when he pledged his heart to me last night, I could no longer doubt his devotion.

He swore he’ll be with me forever. Make me a goddess at his side. Share his immortality with me.

I don’t know if what he calls my ascension has begun, but I feel utterly mortal and a little mortified, as I exit the temple with Nefeli in tow and four royal guards surrounding us. It is a long walk from the temple to the palace, but I’m not to use a carriage. In these times of turmoil, the people must see their princess walk among them. It inspires trust. Or so Father says.

I’m usually not happy about crossing the distance on foot, but today, I’m grateful for the chance to put my thoughts in order before I see my parents. And if my cheeks still burn by then, I can attribute my flushed appearance to physical strain, instead of wicked memories. Father and Mother mustn’t know anything about Apollo and me. Not yet. Even if they don’t think me delusional, with the Greeks outside our walls, they have enough to worry about.

That’s not all, though. Nobody must know how close Apollo and I have become, because of the threat his father poses to me. My love tried to downplay the threat, but if Zeus finds out we are bonded, my life will be forfeit. I know that with the same certainty I know my name.

Circe save me, I mutter. The witch’s name always springs to my lips in times of trouble. It’s a habit passed down to me by my mother, who’s always worshipped Helios and his daughter.

My guards lead the way to the city and through the market, clearing a path among merchants, promoting their wares; children, playing bones; and beggars, hoping the princess will spare them some gold.

I smile and slip off one of my rings, to give a bearded man limping toward us. His shoulders are hunched, his body obviously withered beneath his torn and dirty tunic.

As I hold out the piece of jewelry, he clasps my hand. It’s not in gratitude, however. His grip is harsh. Unyielding. His back straightens, and his body fills out. Grows, until he hovers above me.

Sweetness turns sour in a heartbeat, he hisses. Love easily changes into hate, and a gift becomes a curse. What good is a warning, when nobody heeds it? His eyes are a startling blue—darker than Apollo’s and cold, but ringed with the same bright silver his were when he loved me.

Apollo? Even as I ask, I know it isn’t him. This god is stronger, and there is no love in his heart for me.

My guards stop. They turn to give me startled looks, and I glance at them imploringly. In my head, I cry Apollo’s name, but my mental voice fades in a void. When I return my attention to the hostile god before me, a snake is wrapped around my wrist, where his fingers squeezed moments ago.

I shriek and flail, all thoughts of decorum gone.

The serpent drops to the ground, dead.

I blink dust from my eyelashes. My heart is racing in my chest, slamming desperately against my ribs. What has me so spooked?

Who was that? Nefeli asks in a whisper.

What do you mean?

She gives me a perplexed frown. The beggar. What did he tell you? You’re as pale as the temple’s pillars.

What beggar? Nobody came close. I have no idea whom you’re speaking of.

Nefeli shakes her head and lets out a delicate laugh. I don’t know what came over me. I must be daydreaming.

I stretch the fingers of my right hand, and then curl them into a tight fist. The ghost of a memory slithers against my skin like a snake, as Apollo’s voice echoes in my head.

Are you all right, my love? He sounds worried. I couldn’t reach you. It was like… He sends a mental image of a wall between us.

I’m fine. But Nefeli will soon not be. In my mind’s eye, I see a hoof, hitting her cheekbone hard enough to smash bone. Careful. I reach for her hand, as a horse beside us rears.

Nefeli looks at me like I’m crazy. She pulls away from me, and into the horse’s descending hoof.

I know she’s dead before her body hits the ground. I know it, because thanks to Apollo’s gift, I saw it. I tried to warn her.

What good is a warning, when nobody heeds it?

1

Apollo

Iwon.

After centuries, Cassandra has stopped running.

She’s in my home. In my bed. Naked.

Lying on her back like a starfish. Eyes squeezed shut and lips pursed.

This doesn’t feel like a win.

She blinks her eyes open with a yawn and blows a dark curl from her forehead. Well, it is a win. Claim your fucking spoils, so we can get some sleep.

Ugh. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.

She props herself up on one elbow and arches a dark eyebrow. "Don’t you realize by now I don’t believe in supposed to?"

"That’s what the bet was supposed to fix." From the moment we realized what our bonding entailed, she’s refused to accept we’re destined to be together. For a woman who can see the future, she is infuriatingly stubborn about not accepting the concept of destiny.

To prove her wrong, I suggested a bet, four years ago. We’d find two people meant to be together, and she’d try to break them apart. If she managed, I’d accept defeat and let her go. If she failed, she’d give me one date.

She lost. Wouldn’t concede. The one couple turned into two out of three, then three out of five. When she insisted we go for four out of seven, I upped the stakes. If she lost again, she’d accept the bond fully and be mine.

And here I am, she says with the most bored eyeroll I’ve seen in my four thousand years. You got me. What will you do with me?

Nothing. Not like this. I snatch my pillow and stride toward the bedroom door. I’ve been worshiped by more than a few civilizations and still have followers, managed to evolve and survive when all other Olympians faded, and yet can’t convince the woman I love—who I know loves me back—that we belong together

Hey, she calls out. Where are you going?

I’ll sleep on the couch. And in the morning, I’ll make her breakfast and try to woo her. Again.

Yeah, do that. See how it goes.

I hear the snarl in her thoughts. Though I never shielded my mind from her, the times anything has slipped through from her side of our link since the fall of Troy have been few and far between.

In the full-length mirror at the foot of the