Myth tells us that Ariadne saved Theseus from the Minotaur's lair. It tells us that she was stranded on the deserted isle of Naxos, and Dionysis found her there. The myths are incomplete.
When a strange man washes up on the shores of her beloved Naxos, Ariadne longs to be his. Dionysis has no clue who Ari is or how she came to Naxos, but he won't rest until he knows--and until she is his. Can a former princess with no faith in gods learn to love again?
CONTENT ADVISORY: This is a re-release title.
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Dionysus stepped ashore, rising from the sea with a sigh. He could have willed himself to Naxos, but he enjoyed the feel of cool water on his skin, and so he glided on the back of a great fish instead. Once on shore, he could have dried his clothing easily, but the wind felt so wonderful as it skated over his wet skin and through the delicate material of his robes to his body beneath that he decided to enjoy the sensation of it.
His visit to Proteus in the depths had been a long one, and Proteus was stranger than usual this past visit. He bade Dionysus to come here to Naxos for an end to his wanderings.
Dionysus shook his head as he surveyed the island. It was a treat to escape to a place so beautiful, but even a god could go mad with no company.
He sighed. If only Proteus had not been so secretive, perhaps Dionysus would understand what dratted quest was here and fulfill it so he could be on his way.
The smell of brine assaulted him, as the sun dried his robes and his purple cloak. It had been many years since Dionysus had been to Naxos, but he remembered a cool waterfall that would wash away the smell of the sea and feel refreshing on his body.
At the edge of the meadow that stretched around the small pool, Dionysus stared in disbelief. A woman stood bathing in the waterfall, as he had come to do. The water ran in glistening sheets over her sun-touched skin and splashed away from her erect nipples. It pulled at the dark hair that all but covered the curve of her bottom and flattened the matching curls at the apex of her long legs. She was perfection.
Dionysus barely noted that he was moving toward her while he watched, so enthralled with her presence that his mind scarcely seemed to work.
He considered the situation carefully. Was this what Proteus sent him to see? What was his purpose here? Was Dionysus to take this woman back to her people? Her presence on the isle must be some misfortune such as the wreck of a seagoing vessel. People did not live on Naxos. No mortal had ever lived on Naxos. Such was the gods' decree.
Her eyes opened then widened in shock. Dionysus felt a smile touch his lips. She was enchanting in her naivete. He reached a hand out to her, and she retreated from him with a squawk.
Her robe was suddenly held to her perfect breasts by one shaking hand. The other held a knife, just as unsteadily. She moved nervously from foot to foot, and her wide, brown eyes completed the image of a doe about to bolt.
She found her voice. It was strong despite her obvious fright. "Who are you? How came you to my island? Have you a ship?"
Dionysus stifled a laugh at her audacity. "Your island? Are you queen here then?"
She blushed. "No. There is no royalty here. No peasantry either." She was not a peasant, he knew.
She had a lady's speech and bearing.
"A goddess then?" Dionysus bowed his head, hiding his amusement. "By what name should I call you, wondrous one?"
Her laugh was harsh. "I will grant that the gods blessed this place once, but they have long since gone from here. No gods will answer your prayers on Naxos."
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