The Forge King (The Dark Kings Book 6) Read online

  The Forge King

  Jovee Winters

  Contents

  The Forge King

  The Forge King

  Author’s Note

  1. Aphrodite

  2. Galeta the Pink

  3. Hephaestus

  4. Calyssa

  5. Hephaestus

  6. Calyssa

  7. Aphrodite

  8. Hephaestus

  9. Aphrodite’s memory (B.C. before the curse)

  10. Hephaestus

  11. Hephaestus

  12. Hephaestus

  13. Hephaestus

  14. Ares

  15. Aphrodite

  16. Hephaestus

  Untitled

  Kingdom Books written as Marie Hall

  UPCOMING Titles

  Other books by Jovee: Blue Moon Bay cozy pnr mystery romance

  The Forge King

  Copyright September, 2018 Jovee Winters

  Cover Art by Phatpuppy

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  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning, or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Jovee Winters, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in the context of reviews.

  Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Jovee Winters. Unauthorized or restricted use in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

  The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patent Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

  Published in 2018 by Jovee Winters, Colorado Springs, CO United

  The Forge King

  You know the tales of the Greek Gods. Mighty and ancient gods of old. Ares, the foreboding and handsome god of War. Aphrodite, the embodiment of sensuality and sexuality, the goddess of Love and consort of War. Hephaestus, the lame and twisted god of the Forge. He is nothing really, only the lightning maker. He is nothing at all.

  * * *

  But the stories you know aren’t always the full truth. Sometimes they have been distorted. Turning villains into heroes and heroes into villains. But, what if the truth actually lies somewhere closer to the middle? What if Aphrodite is so much more than just a pretty face and Hephaestus is not forgettable at all but something else entirely?

  * * *

  A terrible curse laid waste to the world that Aphrodite had once known. A world in which she was loved and loved deeply in return. A world in which she was adored by the mighty god of the forge, Hephaestus. The only male she will ever truly love again. Aphrodite has just woken up in a brand new world, one nearly identical to her own, but cruelly different too. Because in this new world she is not loved. She has few friends, if any, to speak of. And the only male she worships hates the very sight of her. It doesn’t take long to figure out that when she was tossed from her world into this new one she took over the body of the woman they’d called Aphrodite. She has none of the old Dite’s memories, but soon she learns just how wicked, cruel, and spiteful this other version of herself had been, especially to her beloved Hephaestus.

  * * *

  And the one man she loves with all her heart, mind, soul, and body not only doesn’t want her anymore, but loathes the very sight of her. Hephaestus is seeking a divorce, and now the entire pantheon believes she’s a heartless and faithless goddess. She has only days to prove them wrong and win back his love or risk losing her happiness forever, but there is just one problem. Dark magic can be cruel, and when Aphrodite took over this form she’s discovered to her horror that not only is she pregnant, but the children are probably not Hephy’s at all. She needs a miracle if she’s going to prove herself. Thankfully, sometimes miracles do happen, and this miracle just so happens to come in the form of a monster the Olympians call the god killer…

  Author’s Note

  I cannot express how much fun writing this book was. My very first love growing up was always the Greek myths. Those mighty and terrible gods of old whose lives made soap operas look like child’s play. I devoured all their stories growing up and realized how easily they all fit into my world of Kingdom. I hope my readers will enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed writing it, and if you do, please leave a review. If there is enough interest in more Greek myth adaptations, I’ll definitely write more of them.

  1

  Aphrodite

  BTC (Before the curse)

  * * *

  I leaned against the wall of his shop and watched him work. It had become one of my favorite things to do in all our years together. It was how our entire relationship had begun. Even before I’d known we’d been forming a bond between us, I’d always loved to watch Hephy at his forge. The sheer raw power of my male at work made me giddy with lust and awe even after all our many, many lifetimes together. Anyone would believe I’d grown bored of my beast. How could someone as big and brutish like him manage to keep me, the most beautiful creature in all of creation, so damned content? I’d been asked that a thousand times, and my answer had always only ever been a secretive smile and a twinkle in my eyes before I’d meander off, leaving them to wonder what it was that could bring two opposites together for so long. What could that lunk of male flesh possibly possess that they didn’t?

  But I would never tell, because what Hephy and I had, it defied reason, expectation—hell, even sanity. The truth was, Hephaestus was my compass. He was the reason I became better, tried harder. Honestly, I thought all of my beast was beautiful, but his true beauty wasn’t simply in the outward. Mostly, it was all inward. Hephaestus knew his worth, his value, and he let me know it, too, in his own gentle way. He’d always silently demanded my respect, and over time, I’d fully understood why, because he was a male of great value, a male who at long last I could finally see as my true and perfect other half.

  He’d never simply given in to my every silly whim and fancy just because I was beautiful or he’d wanted to bed me—which he always had, for the record—but he’d demanded better for me, and because I’d fallen so completely and irrevocably in love with him, I had given him the very best of me. In Hephaestus, I’d found my forever, and there was no place else in all the worlds I’d rather be.

  Watching him when he wasn’t aware of me was always a study in wonder. He was a walking dichotomy. Big and brutish, he was, but he was also so gentle and tender when he cared to be. He could hold an orchid in his massive palm and not crush or bruise it, a feat even I wasn’t capable of. And those same meaty palms and stout, dexterous fingers could craft the most amazing and delicate creations that never ceased to bring me wonder. Like fully functioning glass menageries. Or metal birds so lifelike they could fly and blink and gleam like glittering gems. But that very same man could also wrestle lightning, walk inside the flame of Olympus’s own heart fire, and tame beasts like the Cyclopes, who could be tamed by no other. They were monsters, cannibals, but for him, they might as well be babes and he their daddy. It was incredible the way Hephaestus could make puppies of even the coldest of hearts.

  His muscles were rippling and flexing all down his sweat-streaked back as he hammered at the raw lightning in his hand, more bolts of power for Zeus’s endless armory. His big body moved like a wave, graceful and sweeping, but with such incredible power rolling behind each bone-jarring blow.

  Ours
wasn’t a traditional romance, by any means. We’d come such a very long way from where we’d first started. If anyone had told me when he and I had first met that we’d be where we were today, I’d have laughed at them. Hephy hadn’t been my first love, but he was by far my greatest.

  He didn’t know I was here, but that wasn’t so unusual. When Hephy worked at his forge, he was lost to the rhythms of his creations. His mind was a wondrously strange place full of surprises and twists at every turn. He constantly astounded me with his creativity and strength. Only he could do what he did, and that applied to so much more than just crafting Zeus’s bolts or even making his astonishing creations.

  Only a man like Hephy could have made me, the goddess of lust and love herself, fall irreversibly, deeply, and madly in love. To the point that he’d positively ruined me for anyone else, ever again. Not that he’d ever intended on neutering me, and I would loathe the very sight of him for having done so if it hadn’t been for one very simple truth… Hephy had done it with nothing other than the power of great and astounding love. And how could I ever fault him for that? In Hephaestus, I had the love of ten thousand all rolled into one, and that made me a very, very contented kitten.

  I’d probably had more lovers than even Zeus could boast of having, and though I’d had fun and probably still could with a few of my more inventive lovers, it was for Hephy’s touch alone that I burned. Only Hephy could fully satisfy my needs now.

  I wet my lips as he paused in his task, reaching over to take a ladleful of water from the bucket beside him. I smirked, thinking about how often that ladle had brought me hours of pleasure. I’d often asked him to just dump it all over him just so that I could watch the droplets course over his hard, firm chest and abs before they hid themselves beneath the loincloth he wore while working his smithy.

  Then, of course, no longer content to just watch, I’d go down on my knees, slide his paltry scrap of fabric aside, and luxuriate in the only piece of his body that was soft and velvety and like ambrosia upon my tongue.

  I loved every square inch of my male.

  From his powerful arms, to his ripped chest, to his abdominals that I could bounce an entire bucket of quarters off of. But I didn’t just love the perfect parts of him.

  I was obsessed even with the imperfect parts. His withered lower half, far from ever being a turnoff, for me had always intrigued me more than it had put me off. I was beauty personified, so it would seem obvious that I should want something equal to my own perfect to stand beside me as eternal partner. Someone more like Apollo. Utter golden perfection in every sense of the word.

  Physically, anyway.

  The fact was it only took me being around Apollo for any short amount of time before I was ready to commit homicide. He was vain. Silly. Selfish. Greedy. Arrogant. The list could go on for an eternity.

  Then there’d been Ares. My heart fluttered to think of the darkly handsome god even still… yes, I’d burned for War’s touch. He was Hephy’s brother, and what looks my male hadn’t been graced with had been given to Ares. It was almost cruel how stunning he was compared to Hephy’s less than perfection. Ares was beautifully seductive, the dark night to my shining day. We’d complemented one another well. And once upon a time, I’d fancied that it would be he and I standing here today, but there’d been greater depths to Hephaestus than I could have ever imagined. Depths that had tugged on my heartstrings and had never let go. In the end, there’d been no contest at all. And though a part of me would always care for Ares—he’d been my first—it was to Hephy alone that I would always and forevermore remain loyal.

  The entire pantheon mocked what Hephy and I had. Well, not my best friend, Calypso. She had her own “forbidden” romance—with Hades, Lord of the Underworld and freaking gorgeous brooding male whom I’d maybe once briefly considered for a tryst. No more, though. I was a happy woman now, and there was no one else in all of the cosmos who could please that carrot-loving bastard more than his precious elemental. And I was truly happy for them.

  How could I not be? I had everything I’d always wanted too.

  True, it hadn’t always been like this for Hephy and me. But we were so very deeply in love now, I could no longer imagine my world without him in it. I wet my lips when he turned that ladle over his head and rivulets of clear, sparkling water trekked over his tight, firm golden flesh.

  I tried to be quiet, wanting to surprise him for lunch since I’d been so busy with the silly “love games” for many months now and I’d not had a chance to be with my mate nearly as much as I’d have liked to be recently, but I couldn’t hide the tiny gasp of desire that breathed out of me.

  He tensed, his shoulders going stiff for just a second, his spine rigid and his withered calves flexed so tight the muscle looked as if it could cut steel it was so sharply delineated. I knew what he was thinking; he and I were so attuned.

  Hephy loathed anyone to catch him not wearing his special “legs.” Made of steel, they glimmered like quicksilver in the sunlight and made him not just my equal in height but more like Zeus’s impressive six feet, seven inches. In truth, Hephy was a full half a foot shorter than me without them.

  But then I heard him breathe, and his shoulders instantly eased, and I couldn’t help but smile, because the only person in the world he did not hide from was me. I’d earned his trust many lifetimes ago. I smirked as he awkwardly turned on those beloved withered legs of his, and goddess me, but the way he looked at me with those black eyes full of lightning made me feel as if I would burn alive.

  There was heat. An animal in his eyes. Fire. And they burned like that only for me. I’d never known how much he loved me. How much he’d always loved me. In my youth, my eyes had gone to beauty of all kinds. Men, women… even beasts, though only the mostly human types. Centaurs. Harpies. Selks. Even a gaggle of mermaids once, and that had been great fun.

  But none of them, not one of them, had ever made me feel both hot and cold all over. As though I would spontaneously burst into flame and crawl with gooseflesh all at the same time.

  No one could ever accuse Hephy of being traditionally handsome. He did not have a perfectly straight nose. His mouth when he smiled was always just a little on the crooked side. His features were roughly masculine—some might even say too masculine. Too hard. As if he’d literally been chiseled from the very steel he loved so well.

  But when I saw him, I did not notice the imperfections or the face that wasn’t quite as perfectly symmetrical as my own. I saw the lightning in his eyes. The hint of a smile that teased at lips proficient at pulling orgasm after orgasm from me. The hands, full of calluses and so very rough to the touch, that traced my body as if I were made of the very finest of bone china. He was steely and wiry, and gods above, he was all mine.

  He grinned. “Female, you’ve returned.”

  His tone was gruff and growling but full of promise. Delicious, dark promise.

  I grunted, feeling desire coil through me and fill the air between us with curls of white-hot desire and need.

  His nostrils flared, like a predator’s. I saw his entire body inhale. Like a beast ready to pounce. But I knew he wouldn’t, not without his show legs on. He could barely walk without them.

  His gaze raked like knives slowly over my very, very nude body, and a devilish glint filled his lightning eyes. “Like your dress, dear,” he said, words sounding as though he’d swallowed a bucketful of gravel.

  I kicked out one flawlessly perfect leg, posing just so to make my body as curvaceous and hypnotically entrancing as possible. I was all curves and swells, dips and grooves that belonged only to him. Only ever to him. Everyone wanted me, but I only wanted him. And the beast knew it too.

  He wet his lips.

  “It’s the latest in couture, beast. You like?”

  He did growl then, and my blood zinged with crystal resonance, making me glow as though I’d been dipped in diamond dust.

  “Fuck me,” he said with his dirty, dirty mouth.

 
My Hephy was so dirty. But it was all part of his charm.

  We’d been together and exclusive for centuries, and still he looked at me as though it were the first time. My heart beat so hard I was sure he could hear it as heat and other wanton things began to curl and spread all the way through me, making my limbs feel weak and soft.

  “Only if you ask real nice,” I purred.

  And then… and I wasn’t even sure how he’d done it without his legs, but he was on me. Tackling me to the ground. He’d somehow pushed himself off the forge with his impressive arm strength and had all but flown to my side.

  I went willingly, wrapped my softness around his unyielding hardness, and cradled him to my perfect body, keeping him safe, always safe. Hephaestus might look hard and imposing, but he was gentle and tender and so very, very breakable if he truly let you all the way in. Like beautiful glass that, if one squeezed too hard, could irreparably shatter. I would never allow any harm to come to my mate, not if I still had even an ounce of breath left in my body.

  He played me like a maestro, making me sing, cry out, and experience rapturous delights that, had he not been a god, would have killed him. An orgasm from me, when I did not contain myself, was like having sex with a bomb, he’d always told me. And yet still, somehow, the crazy male seemed to love it.