House of the Rising Son by Sherrilyn Kenyon Page A

“By morning, he’ll be sore, but functional.”
    Bathymaas squeezed his hand before she stood up. Still, she held on to it. “Thank you, Mennie.”
    Her aunt wiped at the tears on her face. “Oh, girl…” She pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Do not tell your father about this … or anyone else. Ever.”
    â€œI know.”
    Menyara placed her hand on Aricles’s shoulder. “If you had any other heart, boy, I’d see you dead for what you’ve done to my baby.” She cupped their entwined hands in hers. “You both have my blessings for this fiasco, and I will never breathe a word to anyone about you. But be careful. This secret could destroy you both.” She kissed Bathymaas’s cheek then vanished.
    Before she could stop herself, Bathymaas lay down by his side and held him to her. “You are not allowed to be hurt again, Ari. Do you understand?”
    He smiled at her stern command. “I shall try.”
    â€œNo, you will succeed.” She brushed her hand over his now scarred chest. “I am going to create armor the likes of which no one has seen to protect you when you fight. None of this bare skin showing anymore. It leaves you too vulnerable.”
    â€œBut this is how our people fight.”
    â€œIt’s stupid.”
    â€œAll war is, my goddess.”
    He was right about that, and she hated that she’d ever conceived this idea. Yet if she hadn’t, she’d have never met him. Never known his warmth and heart.
    Out of mud comes the bloom. And he was her bloom.
    Rising up, she placed a tender kiss to his lips. “Get better for me, Ari.”
    He brushed the hair back from her face and offered her another smile through his pain. “I will. I promise.”
    And he never intentionally broke his promises. Rubbing her nose playfully against his, she gave him a quick kiss then reluctantly withdrew from him so that he could rest and heal. She covered him with the blanket.
    When she started away, he caught her wrist in a gentle grip. “I love you, Bathymaas.”
    More tears filled her eyes at his tender words. “I love you, too, Ari.”
    And yet they dare not show it. Not to a soul. The injustice of that made her want to scream. It wasn’t fair that they had to keep this a secret when others got to shout their joy from the highest mountaintops.
    She lifted his hand to her lips and kissed his scarred knuckles. And as she did so, she felt a peculiar stirring.
    Eyes wide, she gaped at him.
    â€œWhat, my lady?”
    Unable to believe it, she pressed her hand to her chest and felt …
    Her heart.
    It was beating!
    Biting her lip, she took his hand and pressed it between her breasts. “Do you feel it?”
    He was every bit as aghast as she was. “You have a heart.”
    â€œNo,” she said breathlessly. “It’s not mine. You gave me yours. It’s your heart that beats inside me, Ari.”
    Aricles was stunned as he felt the warmth of her skin and the strong beat beneath his fingertips. And while he rejoiced, he was also terrified over it.
    What had they done?
    It couldn’t be a good thing to change a goddess.
    Ever.
    Suddenly, a knock sounded against the tent post.
    Bathymaas jumped away from him at the same time Malphas spoke. “May we enter, my goddess? I have a nervous old woman out here who is about to wet himself with worry that his brother is dead.”
    She wiped her face and drew a ragged breath before she fell into her emotionless role. “Come in.”
    Galen ran to the bed and pulled the blanket back so that he could inspect his brother’s chest. All that was left there were four scars from where Menyara had sealed the wounds closed. “How is this possible?”
    Bathymaas cleared her throat. “I summoned my aunt for him. He must rest tonight, but will be better by morning.”
    Aricles grunted as Galen hugged him with a