Free Bride of Fire by Charlene Teglia Page A

roots ran deep. They resisted her pull, but she persisted, caught in some nameless desire to take, to touch, to know more. She pulled harder, and the earth gave up the treasure she coveted, opening to let it go. But it kept opening until it became a crack, then a fissure, and then a gaping maw she teetered on the brink of while the earth rumbled beneath her and trees at the edge of the meadow trembled. Boulders loosened and flung themselves down sheer cliffs.
    If she let go now, a whisper of reason told her, she might save herself.
    She held tight to her prize. It was hers. She would not give it up.
    A man burst through the hole in the earth. Dark hair, dark eyes. She stared at him, stunned to silence and stillness as he rose above her. Tall, broad, strong. So strong. His hands gripped hers while her nerveless fingers clung to the blossom.
    “It’s mine,” Persephone said as if he’d contested the fact. He could; she knew who he was and knew now what she held. A night-blooming orchid, made to flower where the sun did not shine. It was of Hades’ realm, and this could only be Hades. She ought to let go. She had no right to touch anything of his. But what had it been doing in her world, her field?
    “As you are mine.” His teeth flashed as he spoke. His voice rumbled like the thunder of the earth quaking. His touch burned like fire, not hurting her, warming her as if she’d never truly known what it was to feel heat, until the bright sun felt as cold and distant as the farthest star.
    He bent to her. His lips touched hers, a kiss of flame that made her gasp. Then he dragged her down, down into darkness, and the earth sealed itself above them, closing her out of the only realm she’d ever known.
    *****
    She woke to find herself naked on a bed covered in velvet so dark a red it was nearly black. She sat up, alarm spiking through her, but nothing moved in the darkened chamber. She was alone.
    A now-familiar scent made her turn her head to see the flower she’d found at Enna, now neatly trimmed and displayed in a crystal vase on a small table beside her. It perfumed the chamber, as exotic as its surroundings.
    The four-poster bed was carved with figures like the ones she’d imagined while she held the orchid close and breathed deeply; male and female entwined. Persephone rose up on her knees to take a closer look. She traced a curious finger along one carving, noticing the texture of the wood. Smooth, dark…teak, perhaps? The pair of figures cavorted about the headboard, sometimes joined by a third figure that was alternately male or female. Persephone’s eyes widened as she took in the tableau of two males with a female kneeling between them, one filling her mouth while the other filled her from behind. Their sexual organs were surely exaggerated in size.
    The oversized male organ was better displayed in another arrangement that had two females kneeling to either side of him, hands and mouths worshipping.
    But throughout it all, the pair remained central, whether the woman was on top or underneath, kneeling, standing, lying, sitting. The lusty twosome decorated the whole headboard and drew Persephone’s attention to the emptiness of the large bed.
    It was certainly a big enough bed to accommodate anything depicted in the carvings, including the groupings. But the pillow beside hers was smooth, undented. Only the imprint of her body disturbed the velvet expanse.
    She hadn’t undressed herself, however. Other hands had done that.
    His hands?
    She remembered the heat of them on hers and shivered. Had those hands stripped her bare while she lay senseless? Had they touched anything more than her fingers, or the laces that tied the back of her dress?
    Persephone imagined those hands on her body as she stared at one carving, depicting the man’s hands cupping the woman’s breasts from behind, her legs spread wide as she seated herself on his lap, leaning forward slightly, eyes closed and lips parted.
    Had Hades’ hands