“We’re proud of you,” Ares interrupted. “You are the best daughter I could ever have dreamed of having. We are only a portal away, remember that.”
A knot formed in my throat and I nodded quickly. “I know. And you can visit me here, as well.”
“Trust me,” my mother said. “I’ll be here so much that you’ll wonder if I’m ever going to leave.” I laughed, but only because I knew it was true.
“Mother,” I began. “Can you look in on my mortal mother from time to time to make sure she is alright? “ My chest constricted at the thought of never seeing her again.
Aphrodite nodded solemnly. “I promise that I will. I’m going to keep an eye on my own mortal parents as well, along with my grandmother. Their memories have all been taken from them- it is as though we never existed. But that is for the best. Mortals cannot handle this sort of emotional upheaval.”
“Oh, I think mortals are stronger than we give them credit for,” I answered. “But in this case, you are right. It is best that they forget us. It’s too painful to miss those that we love.”
She nodded. “I love you, you know.”
I hugged her tightly and Ares wrapped his arms around us both.
“You both act as though this is farewell,” he growled. “It isn’t. It is ‘goodbye for now.’ We’ll be back to visit very soon.”
I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love you, too, father.”
He nodded silently and I noticed that his dark eyes were watery. I discreetly looked away. It wouldn’t be polite to point out that the god of war was crying.
“You should go say goodbye to Raquel,” I suggested. Ares nodded without looking at me and they set out across the courtyard to find her. I turned in time to find Cadmus slipping up behind me.
“Did we do the right thing?” I asked softly, reaching out to trace his face with my fingers. Together, we turned and gazed across our new backyard- it had an amazing view of the Isles of the Blessed. Everything was lush, green and tranquil here. It truly was a blissful paradise.
At the same time, we both breathed, “Yes.”
Then we looked at each other and laughed.
“Do you realize that we’ll never have to say goodbye again?” Cadmus asked, his chocolate eyes gentle. “We’ll never have another last kiss.”
My stomach clenched and then relaxed. He was right. Our heartache was behind us. I pulled him to me and kissed him fiercely, enjoying the way his heart beat next to mine. It was perfectly in sync, as a soul mate’s should be.
“Then here is our first kiss of forever,” I murmured against his lips.
He smiled against mine and we turned back to watch our daughter. Ares was carrying Raquel on his mighty shoulders and she leaned down to laugh into his ear. Aphrodite skipped alongside them, dainty and beautiful as they laughed. Their happiness was almost tangible and I felt as if I could reach out and touch it.
I was suddenly full of contentment and joy, as I should be. All would be right with the world, after all. As the goddess of peace, it was my job to ensure that the world was a happy, contented place. And I had learned that the only way to do that was to start with myself. As I grasped my husband’s hand and watched my family approach, I knew that everything would be fine. Our love was lasting, our life was beautiful and our eternity was forever.
The End
Author’s Notes
This finale has been difficult for me to write. I love these characters and this is a goodbye of sorts. I won’t spend every day with them now and that leaves me sad. But I’m happy as well. When I started, I wasn’t entirely sure how their story would end and I am relieved that it ended on a joyful note.
In real mythological legend, Cadmus and Harmonia chose to leave Olympus and reside in Elyria. They had suffered so much misfortune because of Harmonia’s cursed necklace (including tragic ends for their children) that they simply couldn’t bear it any longer. They appealed to Zeus and so Zeus turned them into snakes and sent them to Elyria for all of eternity.
I couldn’t bear to turn them to snakes. Who in the world would want to spend eternity with scales and eating live mice? Not my heroes! I think not.
Raquel is not an actual mythological figure. I thought that Cadmus and Harmonia deserved to have a child that not only survived with them, but flourished. Sure, she ended up dying, but her soul is alive and well with them in the Underworld now and they will live together, forever.
I like my version of their happily-ever-after so much better than actual legend and I hope you do, too. It was certainly fun to write. I didn’t realize prior to this that the Underworld wasn’t all fire and brimstone. It was fascinating to discover that it was an entire subterranean world. And who knew that Hades was so sexy?
I hope that you have enjoyed following The Bloodstone Saga. I am sad to draw it to a close, but I am excited to announce that my next series, The Moonstone Saga, will follow Empusa, Hecate’s daughter.
Question: If your mother is the goddess of witchcraft and your father is a soul-sucking vampire, what does that make you?
Answer: Cursed.
Empusa is vulnerable and beautiful, but she is also very, very dangerous. With all the beauty and charm of a Siren, but cursed as a blood-sucking succubus, Empusa longs for love and a normal life. Neither of these can ever be hers, because the only thing she brings to anyone she loves is death.
Her story is fascinating and I hope you will stick around for the ride. I have included the first chapter of my new series, The Moonstone Saga, for your reading enjoyment.
I need to take a moment and thank my beta readers. Melissa Blau and Ana H… thank you so much for reading the draft form of this book. Your input was invaluable. And Shari Kosowan, thank you. In addition to offering her insightful opinions, Shari kindly helped me polish up the Chosen One’s prophecy. It sparkles now—thank you, Shari.
And to my readers: THANK YOU, THANK YOU for reading my work. I truly, truly appreciate it.
If you would like to read chapter one of my exciting new series,
The Moonstone Saga,
Please continue reading.
Soul Kissed
Chapter One
I see colors. Blurs of colors blend together in distorted shapes, vivid and muted, light and dark. This is what always happens and so I immerse myself in the familiarity of it now as I allow my eyes to un-focus. As my reality becomes a colorful haze around me, I know it is for the best. I don’t want to stare into this man’s eyes as I kill him.
With a quick breath, I inhale his life. Even though it is feeble and sick and hollow, I allow it to slide down my throat, expanding my lungs with what was left of his vitality. In all honesty, there wasn’t much there. Cancer had sucked at him for years, taking his strength and his will to survive. But this little puff of life was enough for me. It would sustain me for a few weeks.
I opened my eyes just in time to find his own turning cloudy and I knew that he was gone. I straightened and gazed down at the man in the hospital bed, combing his blonde hair back with my fingers. He was slender and handsome, quiet and witty. I had truly liked him, as much as I dared to like anyone, anyway.
Divorced, 39-year old Daniel Delacorte. His daughter had died when she was only fifteen in a freak car accident. Apparently, she had been beautiful and vibrant and when she died, she took his will to live with her. And then at that most inopportune time, right when he was drowning in grief, he had been diagnosed with cancer.
He wouldn’t have lasted much longer, even without my interference. Mortal lives were so often tragic. I had seen it in his eyes a few weeks back when I had bumped into him in the hospital halls. He was tired and he was ready to go. And then, because I reminded him of his daughter, he felt an instant connection with me. Little did he know that I would send him to meet her.
The door flew open and a team of nurses noisily shoved a crash cart in front of them.
“Move back,” one of them ordered me as she yanked two paddles from an aging, yellowed m
achine.
Obligingly, I scooted against the wall. I felt nothing as I watched them work over Daniel’s lifeless body, nothing as one of his hands dangled limply over the side of the bed. His fingers were pale. He had been too sick to go outdoors into the sunshine. I still felt nothing. I had been doing this for so long. I had long since learned to harden myself against what I had to do. If I didn’t, I would go insane. To survive, I embraced the numbness.
A doctor tiredly loped through the doorway, barely glancing at Daniel. The nurses had been futilely working for several minutes now. I knew it was hopeless and apparently, this exhausted doctor did too.
“Time of death?” he asked the closest nurse, the one wearing faded puppy dog scrubs. Her face was pained as she glanced up, first at the doctor and then at the clock.
“5:03.”
They stopped working and the doctor turned to me.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, miss. There is a chapel down the hall and we can call a chaplain for you, if you’d like.”
I shook my head.
“That’s not necessary. I only met Daniel a few weeks ago, here in the hospital. He didn’t have anybody, so I started visiting him here…” my voice trailed off.
The doctor briefly assessed me with trained, weary eyes. I honestly think he was too tired to care what my relationship was to his patient. He clearly needed a good night’s sleep. After a moment, he nodded.
“Well, if you change your mind—“ But he was interrupted as the door swung open and a boy stood in the doorframe.
My first inclination was to think boy, but he was probably eighteen or so. After being around for a thousand years, all mortal men began to seem like boys to me. This one was handsome. Sandy blonde hair, warm hazel eyes, athletic tanned build. His eyes were pretty and they widened when he saw Daniel.
The doctor turned to him.
“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be in here.”
The boy straightened his broad shoulders and thrust out his chin. “He’s my uncle. I’m Brennan Delacorte.”
I was surprised, but tried not to show it. Daniel hadn’t mentioned any other family. He always talked about feeling alone because of the loss of his daughter. He was divorced and I honestly hadn’t thought that he would leave a grieving family behind. I gulped and fought back guilt. I was definitely feeling something now and I didn’t like it. This situation broke one of my own rules. I always aimed for men who would leave no one.
The doctor hurried to the boy. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said quickly. “We did everything we could, but your uncle… well, I think he was just ready.”
The boy nodded silently, his eyes frozen on his uncle.
“Are your parents with you?” the doctor asked. “You probably shouldn’t be alone.”
Brennan shook his head and swallowed, like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t trust his voice. And I couldn’t help myself. The vulnerable, sad look on his face combined with my rush of guilt did me in and the words were out before I could take them back.
“I’ll stay with him.”
Brennan’s head whipped around and I realized that he hadn’t even noticed that I was in the room. His eyes widened again, but this time in confusion. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he wondered who I was.