The Oracle of Delphi (Greek Myth Fantasy Series)

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Authors: Elizabeth Rose
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voice full of passion.”
    She suddenly remembered her dream. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks and her body grew warm at his touch. She’d given away her secret dream by crying his name out loud. She pushed his hands away from her, sitting up abruptly.
    “What are you doing!” She looked down to her garments and realized she wore an oversized tunic-wrap made for a male. It looked a lot like his.
    “I saved you from falling into the pit,” he said, sitting back on his haunches. Suddenly, she remembered everything. The oracle, the cave, the reason she’d almost died to begin with. It had been his fault.
    “You bastard!” She reached out and slapped him hard upon the cheek. He seemed surprised, losing his balance, falling backwards to sit upon the earth in the process.
    “Mayhap next time I will let you die.”
    “There will not be a next time,” she sniffed. “I’m never going back to that cave again. How dare you make me climb the chair and call forth the oracle! And all because of your selfishness and impatience, only wanting your own answers.”
    “Well, I can see the herbal remedy worked. Your spunk has returned intact.”
    She looked around and saw the pouch lying open at his feet. A fire burned at the campsite, a pot of hot water with floating herbs brewing above it. A small jar of sweet ointment lay open on the ground before them. The alluring smell of the herbs drifted past her nose, reminding her of her euphoric dream.
    “What is this?” she asked, picking up the jar and sniffing the contents.
    “The priestess of the Oracle of Delphi gave it to me to heal you. I’ve been rubbing it on your temples for the past two days.”
    So that is where her erotic dreams came from. She wondered where else he had been rubbing it on her body.
    “I didn’t think it was working,” he relayed. “But when I heard your passionate cry with my name on your lips I knew it had.”
    A heat coursed through her, the dream vivid in her mind’s eye.
    “It was not a cry of passion,” she lied.
    “Then what was it? The last time I heard my name cried so fervently from a wench’s lips is when I bedded the merchant’s twin daughters. And they truly had a set of lungs on them!”
    “Both at once?” she gasped.
    He smiled a crooked smile, his eyes holding a tinge of mischief about them.
    “I did not say that.” He stood, brushing the dirt from his clothes. “But it is an interesting idea.” His eyes raked over her, causing her own thoughts to flare. The dream stayed vivid in her mind. “It is also interesting to hear the idea springing from the lips of a virgin.”
    She didn’t like where this conversation was leading. She pushed to her feet, wobbling drastically. He reached out to steady her, his hands strong and warm upon her bare arms. She didn’t want to like this man. He could help her slay the sea serpent, but wouldn’t. He wasn’t heroic in her eyes. And she would see him burn in Tartaras before she let him touch her again.
    “Release me,” she said, shaking loose of his hold. “I don’t need you to help me stand.”
    “I’m here to help you, Princess. Just say the word and I’ll be at your command.”
    “Then help me by slaying the sea serpent that’s threatening to consume every single life in my village.”
    He did not answer at first. Just looked at her, his face as cold as stone. He walked over to the fire and bent down to stoke it.
    “I can’t do that. I told you I don’t have much time to find and kill the Gorgon, Medusa. I need to bring the head back to Seriphus soon or King Polydectes has threatened to kill my mother. I have already wasted two days nursing you back to health.”
    She didn’t like to hear the words wasted time associated with her. There were many suitors back home who would give anything to spend even a few minutes in her presence. She didn’t need his crude assumptions, but she did need his skills as a demi-god to kill the sea serpent so her own life would not need to

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