Czytaj książkę: «The Lovestruck Goddess»

Select Praise for Aimée Carter’s The Goddess Test series

“The narrative is well executed, and Kate is a heroine better equipped than most to confront and cope with the inexplicable.”

–Publishers Weekly on The Goddess Test

“Carter’s writing is a delight to read–succinct, clean, descriptive. Goddess Interrupted is definitely a page-turner, one full of suspense, heartbreak, confusion, frustration and yes, romance.” –YA Reads on Goddess Interrupted

Also by Aimée Carter

The Goddess Test Novels in reading order:

THE GODDESS TEST

“The Goddess Hunt” (ebook)

GODDESS INTERRUPTED

and the upcoming

THE GODDESS INHERITANCE

The
Lovestruck
Goddess
Aimée Carter

www.miraink.co.uk

For Carrie Harris, who is one of a kind,

brilliantly hilarious,

and knows just what to say to vanquish the crazies.

JUICES.

GUIDE OF GODS

ZEUS			WALTER
HERA			CALLIOPE
POSEIDON			PHILLIP
DEMETER			DIANA
HADES			HENRY
HESTIA			SOFIA
ARES			DYLAN
APHRODITE			AVA
HERMES			JAMES
ATHENA			IRENE
APOLLO			THEO
ARTEMIS			ELLA
HEPHAESTUS			NICHOLAS
DIONYSUS			XANDER

I like secrets. Daddy’s a walking cliché and says that the eyes are the windows to the soul, but I think the secrets people keep are the real way to see who they are.

See, secrets mean someone wants to keep something hidden, and the things people keep hidden are usually the most interesting parts of who they are. Afraid of the ocean? Totally telling. Six toes? All kinds of brilliant. Lusting after your niece? Majorly creepy.

Here’s a secret—I failed my test.

I’ve never told anyone. Daddy knows—he’s the one who caught me in a compromising position with a shepherd’s son—but he’s never said a word about it, either. Technically all the members of the council who aren’t the original six siblings have to pass this ridiculous trial that tests our virtues, else we can’t be a member of the council, but I think that’s crap. Who wants to be ruled over by a bunch of self-important gods who think they’re better than everyone just because they could bottle up their natural impulses for a little while?

And why are virtues so important anyway? I mean, I get not being greedy or selfish or too proud, but practically every member of the council’s like that anyway, especially the six siblings. And I’ve never seen a more envious group of people in my life. Someone gets something, and suddenly they all hate that person because they got lucky or worked hard or whatever. Why can’t everyone just love everyone else? That’s what a ruler should do. Rule with love, not fear or intimidation. I love Daddy, but he’d have a lot easier time of it if he bothered to care about other people every once in a while.

He loves me though, so I can’t complain too much.

Speaking of love and virtues, why is lust such a bad thing? Everyone acts like doing what our bodies are designed to do is such a horrible thing. Well, no, not everyone. Mostly just Hera. And she’s the root of everything, really—she’s the reason everyone’s so miserable all the time, she’s the reason we keep secrets and she’s the reason I failed my test. Most important, she’s the one who made up these ridiculous virtues we’re all tested on in the first place, as if she’s followed every single one of them herself (hello, pride), and she’s the reason Daddy had to lie to get me a seat on the council.

That takes me to my second secret. My biggest secret. Who is currently trying to force-feed me grapes.

“No!” I bat Ares’s hand away and giggle. We’re curled up in a nest of silk pillows on my bedroom floor, and the sunlight that pours in from the balcony gives everything a golden glow. I love the way the sunset swirls around my feet, but I love the way Ares traces invisible patterns on my back even more.

“You need to keep your energy up,” he says. I brush a lock of dark hair from his eyes. He’s beautiful, muscles rippling underneath every square inch of skin, and he looks at me with such intensity that I think his fire will burn me. I’m not so sure I would mind.

“Mmm, but we don’t have much longer, and I don’t want to waste any more time eating,” I murmur. Every place he touches me seems to sizzle, as if just being near each other is enough to spark a blaze. I’ve never loved someone so much in my life.

No, love isn’t the right word. I mean, it is, but it’s more than that. He consumes me. I’m constantly aware of him when he’s nearby, even when I’m trying to focus on something else, and he has no problem exploiting it. That’s how we wound up in my bedroom in the middle of the day, minutes before Daddy’s supposed to come home.

Sometimes I think Ares does it on purpose.

“Well,” he says in that husky voice of his, eternally scratchy from his battle cries. “Then we should get down to business, shouldn’t we?”

He kisses me, his lips bruising against mine, and our mouths are a tangle of teeth and tongue. I’ve kissed a lot of boys before, and none of them affect me the way he does. When I’m with him, I feel alive, not just immortal. And believe me, there’s a difference. It’s easy to be immortal—all you have to do is sit there. But the world passes you by that way, and I don’t see the point of existing for eternity if we don’t feel it.

Being alive, that’s the hard part. That’s when my heart beats, my eyes are open and I see and smell and feel and taste and hear everything. It’s heat, it’s fire, it’s the crash of the waves and the rumble of thunder. It’s an awareness mortals take for granted. I never do though, especially when I’m with Ares.

He’s pressing his hips against mine when someone clears their throat. I’m so lost in Ares that the sound makes me jump, and I push him off me. In the half second before I turn to the gauzy curtain that separates my room from the hall, I silently will it to be anyone but Daddy. I’d even take Hera right now. Or Hephaestus.

Shudder. Maybe Daddy would be a better option, after all.

My heart sinks. Standing in the archway, his arms folded across his chest, is my father. His blue eyes are narrowed, his expression stony, and in that moment I’m sure he’s going to smite one or both of us. I can only imagine what I must look like—cheeks flushed, hair mussed, lips swollen from the way Ares claimed them. Terrific.

“Hi, Daddy,” I say, hugging a pillow. He says nothing. “Er, you’re back early.”

Still nothing. I look at Ares for help, but he’s leaning back against the pillows with a shit-eating grin that makes me want to smack him. Apparently he’s rubbing off on me, and not in the way I want him to.

It’s amazing how slowly time can move sometimes, and I sit there, waiting—for what, I don’t know. For anything. At last another figure appears on the other side of the gauzy curtain. For a moment, my hopes rise; but the instant Hephaestus limps through the curtain to stand beside Daddy, they burst. Could this possibly get any worse?

No, I take it back. No use tempting the Fates.

“Father,” says Hephaestus. He’s tall, taller than Daddy, and his arms are thick with muscles from forging. He would be cute if it wasn’t for his twisted legs.

Not that I hold it against him, of course. But a girl has to have some standards. Besides, I saw the way he looked at me even before Daddy promised me to him, and I see the way he looks at me now. It isn’t as consuming as Ares’s gaze, but that love is still there. Gentler, easier, kinder. The sorts of things I don’t need when I have his brother.

“Go back to the throne room, Hephaestus.” Daddy clenches his fists. Hephaestus has the uncanny ability to make him squirm, something no one else on the council—no one else in the world, probably—can do. Usually Hephaestus takes great pains to stay away from Daddy for that very reason, but apparently today is the exception.

“Ares and Aphrodite weren’t doing anything wrong,” he says. A truth if I’ve ever heard one. Maybe he’s finally accepted that I don’t want to marry him. “He was teaching her how to defend herself. How to wrestle.”

I have to bite my cheek to keep my mouth from dropping open. Accepting the fact that I don’t want to be with him is one thing, but actually lying for me?

Daddy might have blinders on when it comes to me—most of the time, anyway—but his mouth forms a thin line. He doesn’t even bother looking at Hephaestus. “Aphrodite knows how I feel about her having relations with your brother,” he says, as if Ares and I aren’t here. As if we aren’t staring straight at him.

“And why is that, Father?” says Ares. “Why am I not allowed to see her when you spend half your time with mortal women and minor goddesses?”

Daddy grits his teeth. “What I do is none of your concern—”

“Of course it is, when you’re upsetting Mother.” Ares stands and goes nose to nose with Daddy. He’s not as tall as him, but he’s physically stronger, and they both know it. “You stop seeing other women, and I’ll stop teaching Aphrodite how to wrestle.”

The seconds tick by as Ares and Daddy glare at each other. I hug myself, my eyes wide as I wait for someone to blink. Daddy has never treated his sons as well as he treats me, but he’s never thrown a punch or a bolt of lightning at them, either. And he can’t now—not over me, not over this. It isn’t okay.

“Daddy, please,” I say, but my plea falls on deaf ears. At last Hephaestus touches their shoulders, as if he thinks his calloused hands are enough to stop them from raging at each other.

“Enough,” he says quietly. “This is my battle, Father, not yours, and I choose not to fight.”

Ares scoffs. “Coward.”

Faster than lightning, Daddy hits him across the mouth. Ares stares at him, stunned, and if time was going slowly before, now it stops completely.

They really are going to fight because of me. Maybe even war. I don’t see why Daddy should care so much—Ares has a point, after all. Fidelity hasn’t exactly been Daddy’s strongest attribute, and it’s not as if I’m married to Hephaestus yet. For whatever reason, though, Daddy does care, and this isn’t making things better.

But before I can try to stop them, Ares storms out of my room, and that jagged shard of loss burrows itself within me. Not just the loss of his physical presence, but because I know that look on Daddy’s face. What little relief I get from this near miss evaporates.

“Aphrodite.” His voice wavers, the only sign of how angry he is. “Come with me.”

I sigh and stand. Telling him no would only make the situation worse. Daddy walks briskly down the hall, not giving me a chance to catch up with him, but I know where he’s going. Before I leave, I pause. “Thanks,” I mutter to Hephaestus. “For covering for me, I mean.”

He shrugs and brushes his fingertips against my elbow. There’s something shy about him, something quiet I don’t understand. “It was nothing,” he says, and his touch is gone as soon as I register it. All for the better, really. Ares is excitement, passion, fire all rolled into one, while Hephaestus is—

I’m not too sure what he is, but it isn’t passion. If Ares wasn’t here, maybe I could stomach the thought of marrying Hephaestus, but being forced to settle for subpar when I have perfection right under my nose is cruel.

Without glancing back at Hephaestus, I follow Daddy, taking my time. No point in hurrying toward another talking-to. I’ve only been in Olympus for a hundred years, but I’m not completely ignorant. When Daddy holds meetings in his office, they’re never good.

By the time I catch up with him, the heat in my face is gone. His office is on the other side of Olympus, and in the time it’s taken me to get there, I’ve prepared what I want to say. What I’m going to say this time instead of letting Daddy walk all over me. It’s my life, not his.

Daddy’s sitting behind his desk, gazing into the portal that lets him see what’s happening on earth. He’s focused on a beach I don’t recognize, with tall cliffs in the background. In the seconds before he realizes I’m there, I think I see Hera, but I can’t be sure.

“Aphrodite.” The portal disappears. “Please, sit.”

“I’d rather stand.” I’m never rude to him, at least not on purpose, but today I can’t find it in myself to hold back. “Why are you doing this to me?”

As soon as I say it, my eyes well up. Perfect. Now he’s never going to take me seriously.

Sometimes crying helps though, and at least his expression softens. But this isn’t how I want to win. I want him to love me enough to care more about my happiness than he does his war with Hera. “My dear,” he murmurs, and he moves out from behind his desk to embrace me. I let him. He smells like smoke and river water, and I don’t want to know why.

“Just—” I hiccup. “I love Ares, Daddy. I really, really love him, and he loves me, too.”

“Are you sure about that?” he says, and I pull back in horror.

“Of course he does. How can you even say something like that?”

He tries to pull me in close again, but I resist. “I only mean that he didn’t seem to be too bothered that I caught the pair of you—er, wrestling. I could easily forbid you to see each other, yet—”

“You wouldn’t.” I step away from him, and he reaches for me, but his hand grasps empty air. “Daddy, you can’t do that to me. I don’t care about the issues you and Hera have—marrying me off to Hephaestus just to make her miserable—”