We are pleased to present an excerpt from Oath of Firea new Sapphic fantasy by K. Arsenault Rivera – now available from Forever.
Psyche has always wanted to help people, whether in her profession as a therapist or online as an influencer. So when she receives a mysterious invitation from the most fascinating man she’s ever seen asking for her help, she can’t refuse. But Psyche soon finds herself in a world of courts, full of debauchery and betrayal, where her only chance of survival is to swear a strange oath to a mysterious masked woman named Eros.
Now Psyche must figure out how to fulfill her end of the bargain with Eros while trying to cope with the appearance of a flame-winged goddess in her tiny Brooklyn apartment. Eerie views, a spacious mansion, and decadent experiences are all available to Psyche – as long as she helps Eros and as long as she never looks under Eros’ mask.
But how long can she keep her curiosity in check when Eros makes her heart tremble?
“…Bargain?”
“You learn this way too quickly, you know that?” says Eros. She takes a piece of fruit and gives it to Psyche, who happily takes a bite. Juice drips down her chin. “Let’s hear it.”
Psyche wipes some of the juice off with her thumb. “If you bring me to the court myself, I will forgive you.”
There are certain people in this world who have always gotten their way. These lucky few cannot imagine that anyone could withhold anything from them, because no one has ever done that before. Therefore, their beliefs, once expressed, are always decisive.
Eros is one such woman. She takes Psyche’s thumb and pushes it between her lips with the absolute confidence of someone who knows how much she is desired.
Thoughts dissolve like foam. Eros’ mouth is hot and her tongue is even hotter, swirling over the smooth skin as if she were savoring the remnants of the juice. The blood rushes straight to Psyche’s aching core. She can’t stop her breath from catching and her cheeks from turning red.
“Y-you… make a good point…”
Eros hums around Psyche’s fingers. Then she begins to suck, smiling.
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Oath of Fire
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There’s no point in fighting it – not that Psyche wants to. She starts to roll around in Eros’ lap, and Eros holds her tighter. Psyche surrenders to this flicker of flame for what feels like an eternity – until Eros finally pulls back.
At this moment Psyche notices two things.
First, the world is much, much colder when it is not consumed by the fire that Eros gives it.
Second, just before Eros withdraws, Psyche feels the pressure of teeth. Sharp teeth. Not sharp enough to cut, no, but sharp enough to make their presence known.
Her thoughts race in time with her heart. Psyche swallows and tries to catch her breath. “D-does that mean…?”
“One question for you before I answer yours,” says Eros. She adjusts her mask, but for a moment Psyche thinks she sees her tongue. “Are my teeth scaring you?”
She doesn’t have to think to answer. “No,” she says. “I want… I want to feel more. B-but not now!”
Eros nods. She sits up, leaving some space between them, then looks at the shore. “Under the waves, everyone’s teeth are even sharper than mine,” she says. “And while nothing will happen to you as long as you are with me, they will push their luck as far as the law allows. Are you sure you want to see it?”
Psyche’s blood isn’t cooling yet. That pinpoint feeling…how would those teeth feel on other parts of her body? No, no, she has to concentrate.
“As long as I’m with you, there’s nothing to fear,” says Psyche.
“Then I’ll be happy to show you. But,” says Eros. She holds up a finger. Psyche considers turning the tables. Wouldn’t it be fun to make Eros moan for once? “We need the permission of the King of the Waves himself. He has only allowed me to use the surface; everything else has to be negotiated.”
Eros lifts Psyche from her lap so she can stand up – but Psyche stops her with a hand on her chest. Psyche sits astride her and beckons with her finger. “I want to try to talk to him.”
“The king of the waves?” says Eros.
“If I’m the one asking for the favor, then I should be the one talking to him. I’ve read a lot! You know, these days there are all kinds of manuals on how to talk to you guys. Most of them are kind of… weird. But that’s how I summoned you the first time.”
She skips her little argument with the Queen of Flame – best, she thinks, when Eros doesn’t have to worry about it.
A moment of silence. The dizzying impossibility of achieving what she asked for makes her happy. She looks at the waves and expects at any moment to see a sea monster appear on them.
But there is only Eros, looking up at her with a fixed gaze, Eros, breathing long and slowly and watching the churning of the Red Sea.
“I know it’s probably impossible,” Psyche says. She puts her hands on Eros’ face. “But I really want to try. Will you let me try?”
The sun paints Eros’ mask with its unnatural colors. Its expression does not change – cannot change. But it touches Psyche’s cheek.
“Psyche,” she says, “never ask my permission. I want you to do what you want and be who you want – or I don’t want you at all.”
How can she say such things without a hint of irony? Because her voice is warm, confident and full, and when she hears it, Psyche feels like the god of this relationship. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes to mind. Eros has hit her tenderly between the ribs.
Eros’ thumb runs over Psyche’s cheekbone. “I would like to see what you do with it. And if anything goes wrong, rest assured that you are not in danger. I will save you.”
Warmth spreads in Psyche’s chest. She nods. “Okay,” she says. “I won’t disappoint you. What’s this guy’s name?”
“Poseidon,” Eros replies. “However, we do not normally address the court princes by name. My mother is an exception.”
Psyche climbs off Eros. The boat rocks beneath her feet as she walks to the bow, but she walks slowly. Part of her wonders if the oldest parts of her blood are happy with the situation. Somewhere in her lineage there is a sailor who is beside himself with joy when he sees her. What would her followers think? Maybe she should take a photo or two…?
No, it can wait until she has sorted out the matter with Poseidon.
She takes a breath. “Oh Lord of the Waves, Guardian of the Seas! To test my courage, I wish to visit your court and am ready to offer you a deal!”
For long moments, nothing: only the gentle breath of the sea, the chirping of the dolphins and her own breathing. Had she made a mistake? Perhaps she wasn’t formal enough? Doubts creep in.
And then it is torn away by the surf of the sea.
The calm is gone – the waves are now rippling and lapping against the hull of the small boat. The red beneath them pulses with unnatural light. But when she looks down at the light, she sees that it is banded, not solid, as if she were between the ribs of a massive body.
She doesn’t hear the voice, but she feels it: her bones rattle in her flesh, her lungs constrict. As a teenager, she always stood as close to the concert speakers as possible. This being’s voice is louder and heavier than any stack she’s stood near before. It’s less a voice than a force.
“Who calls upon the King of the Waves and what does he offer in exchange for safe passage?”
Psyche staggers backwards. She puts her hands to her ears, but it’s useless – the voice echoes through her whole body. Yes, she’s scared, but her heart is also dizzy. She’s standing on the top of a rollercoaster and staring at the abyss.
And so it happens that she screams back to the god with her hands over her ears: “My name is Psyche. I have sworn an oath to Eros of the Court of Flame and am under her protection. She says that you two have been together for a long time!”
The sea rumbles again; the dolphins can no longer pull the boat against the current. “Ah, oath-sworn. I have heard of you, Psyche of mortals. Eros has been kind to me where others have not been, and at great risk to himself. That is why you have so much generosity before you. You would ask more of me?”
When she crosses her thumb, it’s a little easier to endure the onslaught of Poseidon’s voice. “The food was delicious, thank you very much! Definitely five stars!” she calls back. “But that was a favor you did for Eros in my name. I’m humbly asking you for a favor in Eros’ name. Something completely different.”
The sea beneath your feet rises and falls like the laughter of a sleeping giant.
“That’s right,” Poseidon’s voice rings out. “What would you like to offer me, oath-sworn?”
Psyche thinks for a moment, standing at the bow of the ship and rubbing her chin. What would a god want? What would this god want? She glances at Eros. Her masked companion stands within reach, threatening and silent.
Sometimes you know what you want to say at the end of a sentence. Maybe then she’ll find the right thing.
“In exchange for a single mortal day at your court and a safe haven there, I offer you…” Psyche begins. And as expected, she realizes that she can only offer one thing. “Pleasant conversation and company for that period!”
The training of a diplomat is not easy. Just as a handle is shaped on a lathe, so they are shaped for their duty – to use people as a means to get what they want. A diplomat with ten years’ experience would have wrested a deal from Poseidon that would have brought wealth to their homeland; a diplomat with twenty years’ experience would have used that opportunity to seize immense power with a carefully worded request.
Psyche has been molded. The unpleasant parts of herself have been removed, the rough parts smoothed out, and what’s left is a polished sculpture for the world to enjoy. She knows this. And she knows that, given enough time, she could have found a way to negotiate a better deal.
But more than that, she knows she doesn’t want that.
Eros taught her how tiring the business of a god can be. If Poseidon is anything like Eros, he’ll want something simple. Something he doesn’t have to worry about.
Someone else – someone more prone to worry and calculation – might have trembled as they waited for the answer. Psyche is different. She just takes Eros’ hand, smiles at it, and waits.
The sea rises and falls. She hears the rough laughter.
“Eros, you picked an interesting one, didn’t you?” he says. “It’s been centuries since anyone spoke to me like that.”
“The most interesting of all,” Eros replies. “Totally without fear. Do you accept their conditions as part of your oath?”
“I do,” he says.
Below them, a large pit opens up in the sea – and at its base is the courtyard.
Extract from Oath of FireCopyright © 2024 by K Arsenault Rivera.
