“I am Bathymaas, the embodiment of all justice. My role in this world is simple—to maintain the balance between right and wrong. To hold it sacred and make sure that neither side squashes the other. I’m sure you can respect that.”

“I can.”

“Then fight for me.”

Shaking his head, he started past her.

She placed a gentle hand on his arm to stop him. “Please, Aricles. The gods have given you an amazing gift and skill. Who better to wield a xiphos for me than a man who takes no love or glory of war? Unlike others, you won’t fight for the sake of it, but for the right reasons.”

He wanted to say no to her. But as he looked into those green-tinged, golden eyes and felt the warmth of her hand on his flesh, he lost himself to her wiles. The saddest part? She wasn’t even using them on him.

And still he wanted to bury his face against her hair and inhale the sweet scent of her. He’d never been so drawn to any woman. Not even Claudia.

She’s not a woman.

No, she was a goddess.

And he was nothing more than a simple, backwoods farmer.

“So what say you, good Aricles? Will you represent your people and be a champion for me for the good of all?”

He wanted to say no. Desperately. But his heart locked down his common sense as a desire to make the goddess smile answered for him. “Who am I to fight the will of the gods?”

“Aricles! You’ll never guess what…” Galen’s words faded as he broke through the trees to see Bathymaas with him. He arched a curious brow.

Bathymaas turned toward Galen, but didn’t react physically. “You’re twins.”

Aricles gave her a wry grin. “Since birth.”

Malphas laughed, but Bathymaas’s expression didn’t change at all. “You’ll have to forgive the goddess. She doesn’t understand humor, or any emotion, for that matter.”

Those words shocked him. “Truly?”

Bathymaas nodded. “Now, if you’ll collect your things, we will take you to your new home.”

Galen let out a jubilant shout while Aricles cringed. His father wouldn’t be happy with this, he knew it, and when they returned to the small stone cottage where they’d been born, he was proven right.

“I won’t have it!” their father snarled while they packed their meager belongings. “I need at least one of you here.”

“Father,” Galen breathed. “You don’t understand what an honor this is. We were hand-selected by the goddess herself. We have to honor the gods and their will, is that not what you’ve always taught us?”

Their father turned tormented blue eyes to Aricles, imploring him to stay.

“I can keep Galen safe so long as I’m with him. I’ll make sure he comes home to you in one piece.”