Charming Of Cupid (Flames Of The Gods Series) A Captivating Retelling Of Eros & Psyche: Flames of the Gods

By Devlin Blake

Welcome to Grecia, an ancient fantasy Greece that deals with magic, enchanted love, destiny, and the divine. In this ongoing series, an assortment of gods, goddesses, mortals and the divine search for their Forever "Flame"; an eternal romance that defies the ages.

 

In Grecia, Finding your 'Flame' is the grandest adventure of all, and unlocks a destiny written in the stars.

 

When Princess Psyche helped the mysterious man in the temple on her Presenting Day, the day when she officially became a woman, she thought life would get so much better. Instead, she discovered she was under a curse to marry a monster. This curse might cause not only her own personal downfall, but also that of her two sisters as well. So she felt she had no choice but to flee. She's soon taken in by a mysterious man, and while she's grateful, he's clearly got a secret as well as magical powers. Was this the monster she was warned about?

Eros, the god of love, had long given up on finding the type of love for himself that he brought to others. He felt it was his destiny to be alone. That is, until he found a mortal woman in his domain. One he actually recognized as someone he cursed under orders from his mother. As he offers her sanctuary and they spend more time together, he realizes what a horrible mistake he has made. Only, he has no idea how to undo the ancient curse, or even how to broche the fact that her fate is all his fault.

As Psyche navigates the strange and enchanting realm of her enigmatic savior, she begins to unravel the layers of secrecy surrounding him. Despite her initial fears, she discovers a kindred spirit in the man who hides in the shadows, a being whose depth of loneliness mirrors her own. While Eros struggles with the depth of his feelings and the gravity of his mistake. If he reveals his true identity he risks losing Psyche forever or if he continues keeping his secret, their budding relationship might crumble under the weight of lies.

However, as their bond deepens, the reality of Psyche's curse looms over them like a dark cloud. The threat of its fulfillment and the potential ruin of her family weigh heavily on her heart, driving a wedge of doubt and fear between the blossoming love she feels for the mysterious man who has become her refuge. Then she commits an action that threatens to tear them apart, forever. Can Psyche break the curse before it's too late?

 

Flames of the Gods is a light/cozy mythological/fantasy romance series of interconnected standalones. You can read each book individually and in any order. HEA guaranteed, no cheating, love triangles or cliffhangers. Fade To Black/Sweet/Low-Spice, All Romance

Scroll up to grab your copy of Charming Of Cupid today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Devlin Blake
• Release date: Apr 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224922253

Book preview

Author’s Note

Welcome to Grecia, an ancient fantasy Greece that deals with magic, enchanted love, destiny, and the divine. In this ongoing series, an  assortment of gods, goddesses, mortals and the divine search for their Forever Flame; an eternal romance that defies the ages.

In Grecia, Finding your ‘Flame’ is the grandest adventure of all, and unlocks a destiny written in the stars.

FLAMES OF THE GODS is a light/cozy mythological/fantasy romance series of interconnected standalones. You can read each book individually and in any order. HEA guaranteed, no cheating, love triangles or cliffhangers. Fade To Black/Sweet/Low-Spice, All Romance

YOU’LL NOTICE I'VE put trigger warnings in their own ‘chapter’ . If you want to read them, go to that chapter. If you don’t, skip that chapter.

And please remember to leave a review!  Even if you don’t have anything to say, five stars with no words is such a big help to me and encourages me to write more of the series you love. 

Trigger Warnings

●  Talk of curses

●  Deception

Prologue

Apillar of fire erupted from the ground, enveloping a person, and abruptly silencing her screams. From a distance, the four-year-old child nestled in his mother's arms, burying his face in her chest and enfolding his dove-like wings around himself to block out the unsettling sight. A disembodied voice drifted through the dream.

This is what happens when a divinity matches with a human mortal... There’s no way you can ever be together with an ungifted.

Jolted awake, a fully grown Eros shot up in his massive round bed, his breath coming in frightened gasps. The sheer gauzy curtains fluttered in the breeze that wafted through his wall-length balcony.

Sweet Gaea.

He ran his hand down his face, struggling to regain composure after such a nightmarish vision.

Not again.

He wrapped his wings, which extended two feet higher than his head, around himself for both warmth and comfort. Within his feathered cocoon, he felt safe. Of course, there was nothing to fear.

This was his realm,—a seamless extension of himself, nestled within his own pocket dimension. Entering or leaving was no easy feat. Innate magic, or the presence of the realm creator's magic, was required. Nothing lived, entered, or departed from his realm without his awareness, not even insects.

Second, he was a higher divinity, a god, for Gaea’s sake. Things that killed ungifteds just didn’t bother him, and no one would want to hurt him, anyway. Being a love god was pretty tame. You didn’t make a lot of enemies.

Some would say it was boring, but he lived to make matches. There was no better thrill than pairing two people up, and making them happy forever. Even the idea of it lifted the corners of his mouth.

Swinging his legs over the side, he left the bed and stepped onto his balcony. The cool night air caressed his face as he gazed up at the violet sky.

One such dream was disturbing. Two were concerning. Three or more, or a dozen, like he’d had over the past few days, meant something.

Even if he wasn’t sure what.

He clasped his hands onto the cold marble balustrade, unfurled his wings with a snap, and leaped over the barrier. A flight would help him feel better. It always did. His mighty wings generated powerful gusts of wind with each beat, helping to calm his mind. 

The dream kept talking about not matching with an ungifted, which was not something he’d ever do.  He was a god, and even though he was a love god, he’d never been in love himself.

Matching with an ungifted was out of the question. The very idea of matching with someone who lacked powers, who wasn’t some kind of divinity, was laughable. Even a nymph would be better than an ungifted.

It simply wouldn’t happen.

Chapter 1

Psyche stood before the ten-foot-tall statue crafted from marble, and gold of a young man with wings. The statue stood on a marble base nearly as tall as she was. Impossibly handsome, like all gods, she sometimes wondered if people truly knew what a god looked like or if the artists were merely guessing.

She placed the offering—a whole lamb carved into the best pieces—on a raised marble slab in front of the statue. When she opened the little door on the side of the base, she saw a few embers still glowing. Pouring a cupful of liquid fire from the urn onto the embers, she then added some dried nettles from the nearby basket. The fire sprang to life.

Smoke crawled up through the holes in the marble slab. When the smoke reached the ceiling's height, she knew it was time. Pulling the lever, she caused the bottom of the slab to fall out, plunging the mutton into the hungry flames. This method was necessary to allow the fire to reach its highest temperature before sending it up to the gods.

Kneeling, she pressed her forehead to the warm marble floor tiles. Oh, mighty Eros. On this day, my presenting day to become a woman, I beseech you to send me love. I offer this to you to hear my prayer...

A cough interrupted her. Spinning around, she noticed a man standing in the doorway. Had he been there before?

Shaking the thought from her head, she greeted him. "Hello.

The man, wearing a dirty, torn chiton, appeared as though he had slept on the ground. The garment hung loosely on his gaunt frame, and a ratty quiver set with a worn longbow adorned his back. Gauntness pinched his cheeks with hunger.

Psyche's heart fluttered with fear but also squeezed with compassion. He seemed to be a homeless beggar. Temples sometimes allowed beggars, and travelers to seek shelter, as hospitality was important to the gods. They claimed the gods even tested people, but Psyche found it hard to believe. Surely, the gods had better things to do.

Sniffing the air, the man circled her like a predatory bird. You're a princess, eh?

Touching the small diadem in her freshly curled hair, she acknowledged that her finely spun soft pink chiton, and the amount of jewelry she wore made it obvious. Excitement coursed through her, but not fear. No one would assault her in a temple, especially not in front of a god's effigy.

Such an act would be sacrilegious. No one wanted to incur the wrath of the gods.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she replied politely. Yes, of Thanassis.

The man nodded as if pretending he knew. Presenting day?

She stared, flabbergasted. How did you know?

"Your makeup. No one wears that much white, and black goop on their face unless it's their presenting day.

Indigence rose within her at his audacity. It's not goop. It makes me look pretty.

It makes you look like a comedic thespian. The ones they laugh at. The ones that make fools of themselves. But, eh, it doesn't matter. Have any food to spare, little princess?

She glanced at the mutton going up in smoke. No, she couldn't give him that. Taking back offerings from the gods, even for a good reason, was an offense worthy of a curse.

Observing the man's famished appearance, she retrieved her personal pera—a small bag worn on the back—not the sacred one used to carry the offering. Her personal pera was less fine, and made of a different material than the sacred pera. Though she could afford the finest, she believed in not making her belongings grander than those used for worship. It simply wasn't proper.

I have some, she told him.

After all, she had enjoyed a large breakfast, and would have a feast of celebration later tonight. Skipping one meal wouldn't be an issue.

Flipping over the flap of the pera, she took out bread, honey, a chunk of roasted meat, and a flagon of wine. Removing the himation draped around her shoulders, she laid the cloak on the ground, away from the altar, to set up the food for him. There were no tables in the temple, and expecting a fellow human being to eat off the ground was dehumanizing, even if he was down on his luck.

The man's face lit up upon seeing the food. Falling in front of it, tears of gratitude filled his eyes as he hastily shoved the food into his mouth. Psyche watched him eat, smiling. It was an honor to help someone. 

If only she could do more to help.

An idea formed in her mind. You're an archer, right?

She tried not to look wistfully at his worn equipment. She had always desired to learn archery, but her elder sister, Rysia, forbade it, claiming it was improper for a princess.

Her late father had shared the same sentiment. Psyche had hoped Rysia would understand, but her hopes were soon dashed after Rysia took over.

The man nodded, confirming his skill with a bow. Sure am. Been at it all my life. One of the best.

While she doubted his claim of being one of the best, clearly he possessed the necessary skills. No one traveled around with sharpshooters equipment like that if they couldn’t use it.

That’s why Psyche had a proposition for him. Listen, my sister is the queen of Thanassis. She hires peacetime archers. I'm certain she would hire you if I put in a word for you. It's a position that offers room, and board, along with a small salary. It's a great opportunity.

Most countries didn't employ peacetime archers or warriors of any kind. Rysia believed that hiring them during peacetime would allow for lower pay during times of war. Psyche omitted this part, as it made sense, and proved effective. She trusted her sister to manage the Queendom.

The man finished the last of the wine, and food before responding. Thank you, little princess. But, no, I already have a job waiting for me. I just ran out of money before I arrived.

He scratched the back of his head, looking like a lost little boy. Psyche pondered ways to assist him further. I'm glad you have a job.

She winced at her own words.

She wanted to give him money, but as a princess, she didn't carry any with her. Few royals did. An idea took shape in her mind—no money, but something of value.

Touching the gold bracelet on her wrist, adorned with a woven double snake pattern, and scattered jewels, she removed it. Here, take this. It should be enough to help you reach your destination.

The man picked up the bracelet, holding it delicately between two fingers, and stared at it as if unsure of its purpose. You're giving me this, Little Princess?

She smiled. Of course. It should be sufficient enough to support you on your journey. I would give you the other one too, but that one was a gift from my betrothed, and he wouldn't appreciate it going missing.

Not that she would mind. Her sister had arranged the marriage for her when Psyche was just a child. She had no desire to go through with it.

The man nodded solemnly. Of course. I understand, Majesty.

You don't have to call me that, Psyche quickly corrected him. I'm third. Not an heir or anything.

His deep brown eyes locked onto hers, creating an odd sensation. And yet, you possess more compassion than many of those I meet.

A woman's voice interrupted their conversation. Psyche, there you are.

Psyche turned to see her older sister Kyla, who had fulfilled her arranged marriage to the prince of Archon nearly five years ago. Kyla's soft blue chiton embraced her swollen belly, carrying her unborn child. Her chestnut curls put Psyche's plain dark hair to shame. Kyra's natural glamor surpassed Psyche's extravagant attire, adorned jewels, and large tiara.

We should hurry, it's our turn, Kyla informed her.

Psyche nodded. Of course, let me bid farewell to... She turned but realized the man she had been speaking to had vanished. He must have slipped away unnoticed, though she wasn't sure how. Well, it didn't matter. He had the bracelet, and she trusted he would be fine.

She followed her middle sister to the main part of Aphrodite's temple, where their eldest sister, Queen Rysia, awaited them. Rysia wore her most exquisite embroidered attire, dripping with jewels, and wearing a grand tiara. She exuded regality, befitting her status as queen. Of course, one could never overdress for a temple. It wasn't like a state dinner. The intention was not to impress.

Psyche offered a small curtsy, maintaining the appropriate level of formality in public. Rysia had reminded her of this numerous times.

Before Psyche could be presented, she needed proper grooming. The divine disciples, priestesses' assistants, led her to the temple of beauty, a vast bathing room with a marble tub that spanned from wall to wall, beyond which lay the presenting temple.

Joining her were three other divine disciples. This is for cleansing not only your body but also your soul. Purification is crucial. Simply submerge yourself, and wash off the makeup. We will prepare you for the priestess.

Psyche removed her jewelry, diadem, hairpins, and clothing before stepping into the warm water. As she lowered herself, the water enveloped her. All the effort put into her appearance that morning was for nothing. If she’d known in advance, she wouldn't have needed to wake up so early to prepare.

The water felt different from regular water—fizzy, and likely infused with minerals. She submerged herself, an unseen current fingered her hair. Using the provided cloth, she wiped away the makeup from her face.

The water made her feel lighter, both physically, and spiritually, as promised. She could have stayed under forever, but she needed to breathe. She burst through the water pushing out a breath. The heated air in the room kept even wet her at a comfortable temperature.

Gliding to the opposite side of the tub, a divine disciple draped a fluffy wool towel over her shoulders, while another held up a gauzy dress resembling her own. Psyche stepped into it, relishing the soft caress of the silk against her skin.

Next, they led her to have the Medicine of Beauty applied. With four divine disciples working on her, the process didn't take long. One curled, and styled her hair into soft ringlets framing her face, while others attended to her nails, face, and body. Every detail had to be perfect.

Closing her eyes, Psyche cherished the experience. Even though she was a princess, and had access to such treatments, this was different somehow.

This was sacred.

You're ready, one of the divine disciples whispered, holding up a large reflective gold circle

Psyche blinked, staring at her reflection. Was that truly her?

Reaching up, she touched her curls, perfectly soft, and styled, surpassing what they could achieve at home. Her makeup was flawless. She appeared both older, and younger. The drawn unibrow spanned across both eyes, giving her an enhanced beauty she lacked naturally. Her eye makeup curled up at the corner, lending her a feline allure with a smoky shade on her lids. Her lips were a perfect soft pink, matching the softer shade of her cheeks. I'm beautiful, she uttered aloud.

Of course, one divine disciple replied. Everyone is beautiful here. Come, your family awaits with the High Priestess. Taking Psyche's hand, she pulled her along.

They walked down a hallway that led to an alcove concealed by a door. Kyra, Rysia, and a few servants were already there. A blush tinted Psyche's cheeks. They stood on a platform, fully visible to everyone, although the worshipers positioned to the sides. The High Priestess stood before them.

The High Priestess, a regal woman of advanced age, bore visible lines that spoke of wisdom, and respect. Most would refer to her as a crone, deserving the utmost respect, as all crones did. Her cylindrical hat was purple, adorned with gold key patterns, and her red chiton featured the same motif. Psyche curtsied, unsure if it was appropriate but it felt right.

Psyche of Thanassis. Kneel, the High Priestess commanded.

Psyche complied, her gaze fixed on the priestess. Psyche of Thanassis. Today, on this day, you have cast away the trappings of childhood, and have embraced womanhood, with all its rights, and privileges. You may marry, enter into contracts, own property, and pursue whatever brings you joy, and pleases the gods. Now rise.

As Psyche rose, the High Priestess affixed a small brooch—a marble, and jeweled dove—over her heart. Today, you are a woman.

The ceremony held such solemnity that applause seemed inappropriate. Psyche's sisters each took one of her arms and led her down the curved marble stairs. Kyra squeezed her arm. Everything will be different now, Psyche. Wonderful, you'll see.

One man approached her. My lady, allow me to congratulate you.

Psyche graciously smiled. Thank you.

As they traversed the temple, one by one, all the men came forward to congratulate her. Rysia reminded most of them of their other duties, ensuring they didn't come too close. Psyche's cheeks burned. She wasn't used to being the center of such attention. Hopefully, this wasn’t what womanhood entailed. She hated this part of it.

Well, she enjoyed the attention, but not the way some men looked at her. It made her feel scared.

By the time she, and Rysia bid farewell to Kyra, and settled inside the carriage, she longed to return home. A pleasant weariness engulfed her. She stretched out on her side of the carriage. It was nice having an entire half a carriage to herself. Rysia was on the other side. Kyra had returned to her own kingdom, so she wasn't in this carriage. 

Such a perfect day, Psyche sighed in contentment. She’d remember it for the rest of her life.

Rysia's face tightened as if she had bitten into a citron.

Psyche straightened up as the carriage began to move. What's wrong? Didn't you think the day went well? I thought it was perfect.

Rysia still seemed upset. All that attention when we left. Neither Kyra nor I received that on our presenting days. It concerns me.

Psyche jolted upright, this was unbelievable. You can't possibly be jealous.

Rysia forced a smile. Of course not. You resemble our mother, who was beautiful. I'm not jealous. I'm concerned. Those men paid you too much attention. They even left their offerings, and compared you to Lord Aphrodite herself.

Rysia could not be serious. Psyche was no competition for a goddess, let alone the goddess of beauty, and love. As the queen, it made sense Rysia had to consider the will of the gods, but this was ridiculous.

It lasted for only a few moments. Trust me, the goddess will not be upset. Psyche protested.

Rysia reclined on her bench, gazing out the carriage window as if searching for something beyond the horizon. I certainly hope not.

Chapter 2

Eros played with his new bracelet as he landed near the tree line of the clearing for his friend Dionysus's party. Gaea's moon shone down on the humans dancing around the column of fire that disappeared into the inky sky. The revelers, known as Maenads, gyrated their way around the bonfire, out of their minds with dizziness, and strong drink. A man, and woman grabbed one of the personal barrels of wine, and went to pour it over the head of another dancer.

Instead of soaking her, the wine parted to all sides, creating a dome of wine around her before getting absorbed into the thirsty ground, leaving her dry, and safe. She looked shocked while the two pranksters burst out laughing. Dionysus's magic of protection worked well. Eros would say a little too well since that was obviously just a prank, but the automatic magic of wards didn't distinguish intentions. It kept people safe at these wild Dionysias, and that was its job. Dionysus was the perfect host, and he'd never let any harm befall his followers while in his care.

He took a few steps forward but stumbled slightly, his normal was coordination off.

Blast that dream.

It left him unable to sleep through the