Read Medusa's Desire (The Fate of Eros #1) (The Fate of Eros Series) for Free Online Page B

Bartholomew hesitated before saying yes, which made Medy feel terrible, but this was important. They went into the agora to purchase a dove. The man wouldn't haggle for it, so Medy was forced to borrow a drachma. Cithara left; she'd be back to get her later.
    Bartholomew found a beautiful young brunette dressed all in white with a childish face. The other priestesses stared at the two of them as if they were teachers looking down at unruly students. The dove cooed in its cage, which cut the silence like a hammer banging against the wall.
    Bartholomew claimed in a whisper that she owed him a favor, but he still bowed his head and didn't look her in the eye as he asked the priestess to perform the sacrifice.
    Her mouth formed a tight line and Medy felt certain she'd say no. "Very well. Follow me."
    Bartholomew left to perform his duties. Medy hid her face behind her hair and didn't meet anyone's eyes as they traveled down the hallway she had been in the night before.
    "Most people aren't allowed into this place," the young priestess said. "If you touch anything or speak, you will be forced to leave immediately."
    Medy nodded her head. The mess she had left was gone. She wondered whether they'd cleaned it.
    When they neared the statue, Medy kept her eyes on the ground. The priestess set a pile of logs on a golden altar to the side and lit it on fire. She grabbed the caged dove from her. It flapped its wings wildly as she pulled it out. She took a bronze knife and slit its throat, barely noticing its struggle. Blood dripped down her hand as she removed the meat from the fat and bone; the priestesses and slaves would consume it later. She threw the fat and bone on the fire and soon the flickering flame was reflected on each gold plated wall.
    Medy bowed her head and clasped her hands. This would be the end of foolish decisions. The sacrifice of this pure, white bird would cleanse her for the future.
    She gazed at Athena's feet and swore that they were glowing. It must have been the morning light playing tricks on Medy's eyes. The toes twitched and she wondered whether the hallucinations were because of a lack of sleep.
    She looked up slowly as the white marble turned peach where Athena's skin lay. Her armor burst with color: in some places bronze, in others gold.
    Medy stumbled backwards. A servant carrying water shattered the pottery on the ground as she dropped it. All the priestesses fell to one knee.
    The owl on Athena's shoulder blinked and flapped its wings. Her hair flowed down her shoulders unlike any color Medy had ever seen. In some lights it shone red, in others blonde, and in the rest brown. It changed every time she moved. Her lips were pressed together, her chin stuck out, and she glared downward. She raised her spear and pointed it at Medy's forehead.
    Medy froze, her eyes wide and her mouth open.
    "You have defiled my temple!" Athena shouted.
    Tears streamed down Medy's face. Her knees felt weak. "I'm so sorry. I would never purposefully do such a thing."
    "Silence! I will not hear your excuses. I saw you sleeping with Poseidon in my temple last night! Or are you saying my eyes deceive me?"
    Medy's face paled. The one who had raped her was Poseidon? It couldn't have been.
    Athena's eyes narrowed. "I've heard about your bragging, too. You've been telling everyone that you're more beautiful than me. Is that why you slept with the man I was pursuing?"
    "No, that was-"
    Athena shook. "Time for your punishment! I'll make you as ugly on the outside as you are in your soul."
    Athena reached down and touched Medy's forehead with her giant finger. A white light radiated from her. It enveloped Medy in its beauty, but stung as it filled her. She shook, feeling unlimited power sizzling through her veins.
    The priestesses began to scream and run.
    Medy shook all over. Her whole body felt wrong, like her bones needed to be cracked. "What's happening to me?"
    Her back itched as pain laced through her shoulder blades. Pressure