Chapter 9

I would blame the dream upon the fever that raged through me, but it whispered far more clearly of vision. The lion roared but it was not the seas that 
boiled. Instead it was my blood that ran hot. My flesh was the land of Atlantis and I shook beneath the lion's discourse. I parted my legs for the 
constellation above me and it was not with pain or fear I trembled. The lion shifted from stars to flesh with dark hair, and it was Xenos that was 
between my thighs, pressed against my most tender flesh while that third eye burned in the center of his forehead.

My hips strained to meet his and the fingers that cupped my breast made my voice cry out with desire. He plunged within me and my back arched to 
meet him. The universe rushed up to meet us and when climax overcame me and the lion's seed filled my womb, the world around us burst into flames. 
The stars crashed into our eyes and we screamed, and I was beautiful. My hair was comprised of the burning stars and my feet were the crumbling 
earth beneath me.

With wakefulness came enlightenment. Seduction was the talent taught me by my mother as well as Ariana, and up to this moment I had not employed 
it, relying instead on my rage, my all-consuming need for vengeance. Perhaps if I seduced the man I so wished to destroy, perhaps if I distracted him 
with soft body and painted eye, perhaps then his strength would waver just enough that I could sneak a dagger into his bed.

My breathing began to slow and the flush of the dream slowly began to fade from my cheeks. If I had not heard him suck in his breath I would not 
have known he was there. My face turned toward his bed and found him seated upon its edge, fingers still clenching the rich crimson fabric beneath 
him. For a moment after our eyes met the desire sparkling within his gaze remained, then he blinked and it disappeared. “If only sleep provided us all 
with such pleasure.” That sardonic, harsh tone still possessed his voice, but there was now something else – something contemplative – that rested 
within its depths.

I did not speak. I would continue to hold to my oath of silence. Weakness was not a thing I would afford myself even with my renewed intentions. “And 
who did you dream of, I wonder?” He asked in the same rough tones, curiosity coloring his voice.

I let expression change the features of my face and Xenos watched with barely concealed interest as I pulled myself up to my feet, ignoring the throb in 
my shoulder and the protest of my muscles. Those dark eyes continued to watch me as I approached him boldly. I knew that the fire sent light through 
the flimsy robe and revealed me to him, and some small part of my mind was asking if I'd gone mad to tease a murderer, rapist, and tyrant. I pressed a 
hand to his chest, pushed my fingers firmly against flesh.

“I would suspect you enjoyed your time in the dungeon, Euphemeria. Look at the change that has been wrought in you.” Xenos mused, twisting a golden 
curl idly between his fingers. “Or is this another ploy against me?” There was amusement in his voice but underneath it I could hear that underlying force, 
the conqueror contemplative of the challenge placed before him.

I let my fingers slide down the smooth flesh of his chest and for a moment it was I that was distracted. Muscles were firm beneath my touch, perfectly 
toned and trained. Hatred seemed to leak away for just a moment, and the knowledge of it sought to horrify me. Yet, horror did not rise. Could it be 
that I was growing accustomed to my environment so easily? And if so, did that better or worsen my situation?

Xenos suddenly grabbed my wrists in his hands and shoved me from him. While I was still absorbing the impact of my resulting fall to the floor, the tyrant 
fled the room wearing only a black loin-cloth and a sword at his hips.

Slowly a smile moved over my lips. Perhaps it would be easy to disturb him using kindness and seduction, a woman's wiles.

Or perhaps you merely search for a reason to use such traits toward him. My mind whispered. I shook my head and chose to ignore the thought. 

Hatred was a far safer thing to entertain.

~*~

Xenos stared up at the replica of himself in the sanctuary he wandered about more often in these last few days than he had ever done before. His 
heartbeat was still quickened from where her hand had rested, had caressed over his flesh. It had excited him unbidden, and Ariana's words wafted 
through his memory. To bed the silent little witch again would bring nothing but trouble, but the thought did nothing to ease the pulsing between his 
thighs.

Desire was elusive to him. The girl was unbelievingly lovely in her strange, forceful way, but beauty did not usually hold him so enthralled with a creature. 
No, there was something about this young woman – this creature spoken of in prophecy – that went beyond the beauty her lithe form offered, more than 
her defiant stubbornness.

Ariana had been correct. This creature was dangerous in a way that had nothing to do with prophetic vision. Cynara could prove far more interesting, 
and something about the danger she offered made her all the more alluring. He smiled to himself as he gazed at the stone altar. Perhaps new gods 
could conquer the old. Perhaps Cynara would be a fine catalyst for the change he desired.

~*~

Three months passed before I received my first correspondence from Mathius. It read simply: “We are free. We await your plan.” Plan. It was something 
I had given little thought to, though I'd not forgotten of the friends I had made within the dank, dirty depths of that horrid dungeon. What could I tell him? 
My life had been one of vengeance, not revolution.

My interaction with Xenos had changed once again. Suddenly, he seemed more interested with the activities taking place in the sanctuary. I could feel 
his eyes upon me as I lit the candles, washed sacrificial blood from the altar. I heard horrible sounds through the cracks of the stone wall behind the 
altar late at night, as though perhaps there was yet another room where unspeakable acts were carried out under the cover of darkness and secret.

More and more soldiers began to appear, some no more than twelve years of age. Why? I asked myself. There still was no war. Could it be that 
Xenos feared a civil war himself? Old scrolls littered his deliberation chambers, and he paced the temple halls late into the night. But, more important 
was his reaction to me. He contemplated me, and the proverbial leash around my neck eased over-so-slightly. I was able to walk the city streets again. 
Freedom, no matter how minute, assisted me in my tasks.

My reply to Mathius simply read: “Reform the Senate. Secret.” Did I think it was possible to reform a Senate under Xenos's nose? But, with his 
sudden interest in religious activity, I felt that perhaps – just perhaps – his attention would be diverted enough to keep secret meetings from being 
noticed.

It took a year. A year to convince the once senators – now stricken with poverty and tortured minds – to regroup. A year to convince generals within 
Xenos's own army that revolution would rid them of their invisible chains of slavery. And during it all I would leave the temple by night on sandaled feet 
with veiled face to meet the others. We had no army save the people of Atlantis. The question lingering upon the tips of our tongues was simply: Would 
surprise itself be a strong enough advantage?

Xenos was waiting for me one night after one of these secret meetings. I paused on the temple steps as I saw him leaning against one of the many ornate 
columns. “Where is it you run off at night, Euphemeria?” He mused aloud. Of course, I gave him no answer. It had been a year of silence between us. 
My refusal to speak as well as his own preoccupation contributed to the silent dinners, the lack of beatings and other tortures. I had become obedient, 
for it was far better for my health to simply bide my time with the dark haired man who I had steadily been finding more handsome as the moons between 
us pushed on.

But, I knew he didn't really care for an answer that night. His eyes held a strange possessive quality as they roved over me and once again that unbidden 
excitement washed over me. I could feel the color begin to creep up my neck toward my cheeks. A dark brow arched and I knew the blush had been 
discovered even under the protection star-gilded darkness offered.

“You are a strange creature.” Xenos murmured as he stepped closer to me. I turned my face from him but my feet seemed planted to the glistening 
stone beneath them. “One would fancy you desire me, even with that hatred flashing in your eyes.” He mused and I felt his breath hot upon my cheek, 
scented of fine fruit and wine.

And after nearly a year and a half of silence with this man, I broke my oath. “I despise you.” I whispered against his face as I turned. “But you are 
handsome and I do not understand you.”

He stepped back as though he'd been struck. He blinked several times before he was able to speak. “The songbird sings.” His voice was softer than I 
would have expected it to be. “What spell has broken the lock upon your tongue?”

“You.” One word filled with a world of those womanly wiles I had been taught as a child.

But, cruelty would not be so easily shaken from someone whose very life whispered of it. His fingers found their way into my hair and tightened until I 
gasped with pain. But, even as I gasped my eyes threatened to flutter closed, for under that pain waited an excitement that so desperately wished to 
be stirred.

And he noticed it.

Perhaps I was possessed and that was why I found him desirable even as hate gnawed at my stomach like a hungry beast. Perhaps I was merely looking 
for justification. Whatever my reasons, when he suddenly shoved me against the column behind my back and pushed his body against mine I did not fight 
against him as I once would have done.

His mouth covered mine and that taste of fruit and wine flooded my senses. For the first time it was not rape, it was not struggle. I opened my mouth wider 
to him and he plunged inside as though he would devour me. My fingers caught in the dark masses of his hair and it was I who dragged him closer, my 
teeth that bruised his lips as I pressed closer to his ravaging kiss.

If I was possessed, he was doubly so. The bite of his armor against my flesh created a sufficient barrier between us but his fingers reached up to the leather 
clasps at his shoulders and sides, sending the breastplate clattering to the metal-coated street below. He pressed himself to me and it was warm linen 
pressed against my scantily robed form, his fingers pulling me into his kiss again as the scent of sweat and all that was male flooded over me.

A soft sound escaped my throat and it was the first time his lips paused against mine. It lasted only a moment before his tongue plunged deeper, his 
hand sneaking beneath the gold-linked breastplate that hung about my neck and grasped my breast, drawing another sound from somewhere deep within 
me.

His mouth moved to favor my throat instead of my lips and my gaze was left staring up into the star-decorated sky. The stars seemed to shine more brightly 
and it suddenly seemed that the hand Xenos slipped between my thighs was possessed of the stag that shone down on us, and once again I was the 
woman who parted her legs for The Lover.

Had we gone mad? Had we both forgotten our initiatives so easily? Perhaps. But, we came back into our senses soon enough. Xenos moved back from 
me, touching fingers to his lips as though he could still feel me there between them. My breathing was labored and I leaned against the column at my back 
as my legs threatened to give way beneath me.

It was Xenos that found his voice first. “There is something about you, witch.” He said with a ragged edge to his words. “Bewitching.” He tore a hand 
through his hair. “Go to your chambers.” He finally said and that cold edge was back in his voice once again. I said nothing in response, merely retrieved 
my veil from the steps and left as quickly as my unsteady feet would carry me.

~*~

 	“I am a madman.” He whispered after the witch had taken flight. “She has cast some spell over me that must be broken.” He looked to the sky 
as though it would offer some answer, but the stars were cold and silent.

“A spell to be broken.” He murmured again thoughtfully before he turned to retrieve armor that had been so easily cast aside in favor of her warm flesh 
and lean fingers.



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