As Eros began her early ascent across the sky, Ares rose from his son's bed and stared down at the naked body of his daughter in-law. His eyes took in the slenderness of her hips and the flatness of her stomach. The musky scent which lay between her legs, the scent that He had caused to rise there, wafted to him. A large battle worn hand reached out and ran itself along her side, it gripped her buttocks firmly before finding its way upward to her breast. "I can see why he gave you Ambrosia." Ares whispered hotly in her ear. "I would have made you Immortal as well. You're a fine ride, Psyche. I'll be back for more." With that Ares slid into the heavy metal studded leather vest, fastened it about Himself and left her there alone, making his way through the darkened corridors of his sons house to Flame who waited outside.

Yes, she was a fine ride, he thought as he mounted the horse and turned it away from the house. Strong proud breasts, those sleek thighs. Thinking of the feel of her slickness as he slid into her again and again made him hard and his passions flame brightly once again. Eros would return soon, there was no time to go back for more of that buffett. He growled as he raced through the blackness of the night toward his cave.

Almost nine months to that night, unbenounced to either Ares or Eros, Psyche gave birth to a daughter. Hiding the pregnancy from Ares had been easy, but poor Psyche had been forced to enlist the help of a few friends to keep it hidden from Eros when she became to far along. She claimed her mother ill and in need of tending. Eros, good husband that he was, said they would both tend her. Psyche said no to his request, she would care for her ailing mother on her own, he was much to busy making the world fall in love to handle such a task. From there, her friends had taken to keeping him busy or talking him out of going to see his wife, finding something new and interesting for him to do instead each time.

Psyche did not go to see her mother. She went to the home of a very loyal attendant, and there he took care of her until the child was born. As soon as her daughter left her womb and before the child could so much as gasp its first breath, she commanded the attendant to drop the infant down the nearest well. Without so much as a word of protest he gathered the bloody newborn in his arms, took her outside, and with her umbilical cord still attached to her small body, dropped her down the well in the rear of his home. When he returned Psyche told him he was never to say anything of the child to anyone or she would strike him down herself. Better to be rid of such a vile creature as that then to claim it as her own.

There was one person Psyche had not been able to keep her pregnancy hidden from and that was Aphrodite, Goddess of Love. For a long time before the child was born, Aphrodite wondered if it was her good fortune or a curse that she Mistressed over such matters and knew all about them. Aphrodite detested Psyche, the girl was such an arrogant waste of beauty in her eyes. She had no idea why her son should love the little mortal so much that he would go behind her back and give her Ambrosia and then MARRY her! If it were any other man's child she would have let it drown, but it was not any other child. The girl was daughter to her own lover. That should have been enough to throw Aphrodite into a jealous rage the likes of which even the Gods had never seen, but it did not. She could forgive Ares for taking her to his bed, Ares had more lovers than she could hope to try and count, but when it all came down to the nitty gritty, he always stood by her side. So, in her great love for him, when Psyche gave birth to Ares child, Aphrodite rescued her from the well before any harm could befall her.

Aphrodite whisked the infant away to her temple on Olympus and there raised the girl as her own and named her Onya. For five years they lived happily as mother and daughter, tending the gardens which surrounded the temple and playing in the open fields of Olympus. In Aphrodite's garden there were two large stone fountains, the one on the right carved with doves and roses was sweet water and could grant any request of loves desires. The one on the left carved with serpents and gargoyles was bitter water and would curse any who so much as touched it. Always would their hearts be empty, never would they know love. Aphrodite had always made very sure that Onya was aware she should never go near the bitter fountain and the child in her great love for the woman she called mother obeyed the request and never once questioned it.

Most days were lonely for the little girl, her mother always so busy with all of Greece's problems that Onya was left to wander and play in the gardens alone. One day, while Onya played amongst the lavender and daisies, a wolf appeared in the garden. He had thick gray and black fur, teeth larger than any she had ever seen. Onya backed away from the animal as it growled at her making the small heart in her chest feel as though it were sprinting along the trail of the sun. She tried to cry out for her Mother but found that her throat was suddenly so dry that it made no sound. The wolf came closer to her, slowly, intentionally backing her against a Rowan tree so that she could run no further. When Onya had pressed her small back as far against the large tree as she possibly could she closed her eyes tight, sure that the wolf would tear out her throat and leave her little girl's corpse lying on the ground of her Mother's beautiful garden, she felt the soft wetness of the wolf's tongue against her hand. Onya looked down to see him happily licking her and wagging his tail. No longer growling or menacing was he, but a dog who had come to play in the garden with her for a while. A new friend. And that was what she named him, O fi'los, friend.

Ofi'los and his new friend Onya spent many days romping around the gardens and wooded areas beyond the temples, running through the forests and rolling in the grass. There had been times when O fi'los would allow her to climb upon his back and together they would race through the trees, over the hills and past the ponds, her little hands gripped tightly into the thickness of the fur at the gruff of his neck. She would laugh as they sped across the leaf strewn ground and demand he go faster.

Sometimes at night when all were asleep and all was quiet, Onya would wake to find O fi'los in her room, he would jump up onto her bed and lay down beside her. She would curl herself against the thickness of his fur and the weight of strong body, together they would sleep the night away.

On a day bright and sunny as Onya played in the garden alone, waiting for O'fi los to come and play with her, a beautiful butterfly appeared. It was very large for a butterfly and it's wings were purple, red, gold and green, they shimmered irredescently in the sun. It was so large Onya thought the butterfly to bigger than her own hand. The butterfly flitted and flew around her then landed on the bridge of her small nose. Onya focused her black eyes in ward to look at it as she held her breath. So delicate and beautiful was it that she even though she knew she should not for fear of crushing it's fragile wings, all she wanted to do was capture it and touch it. Before she could bring her small hand to her face, the butterfly flitted away and Onya rose to follow it, determined to catch it.

Under the bright Olympus sun, the butterfly flew just out of the little girls' reach as she jumped and skipped and raced to catch it. It's wings tossed the most brilliant colors of the rainbow everywhere that she could see and Onya's little-girl eyes were captivated by it. She did not think to notice where she was running to or how fast she was going, her eyes were solidly fixed upon the beautiful fragile creature fluttering it's wings so gracefully just beyond her reach. Onya raced headlong, laughing, through the garden after her prize.

The butterfly turned direction to fly back toward her and then flit away again. As it fluttered it's wings it rose and swooped through the air with playful delight. It flew past the first fountain in the garden, turned back to allow the small girl to catch up with it and then turned and raced forward as fast as it could fly. Onya's little legs raced to keep up with it. Before she could think to stop herself, the butterfly landed on one of the serpents heads, Onya reached forward to grab for it as her legs pumped, she fell head first into the bitter water of Aphrodite's garden.

The fountain was deeper than Onya had imagined it might be, when she tried to stand in the water she found nothing below her but more water. It smelled acrid and tasted horrible as it swirled into her gaping mouth and was inhaled through her nostrils. Her small arms searched frantically for the stone walls of the fountain and suddenly something hit her upon the head.

Psyche changed herself from the graceful playful butterfly which her bastard daughter had been chasing so foolishly into her true form. Not wanting to be cursed by the bitter water, she grabbed a near by stick and held the child's head below the surface with it while she cried out "Drown, drown, vile creature."

Something harsh and sharp was jamming her in the head as she fought to rise to the surface of the bitter water. Onya's mouth opened in a silent scream. The water flowed inside and she was forced to swallow mouthful after mouthful as she tried in vain to surface and call for help.

O Fi'los charged from the forest straight at her, his teeth bared, fur on the back of his coat standing straight up in a razor's edge. He growled low as he leapt at her, clamped his sharp teeth about the softness of her forearm and brought her to the ground.

"Sickening beast!" Psyche cried, "Get off of me!"

The wolf snarled and growled as he held her to her place on the ground.

"Psyche!" Aphrodite cried as she emerged from the doorway of her temple to see her daughter in-law lying on the ground with the wolf over her. Suddenly the sound of wailing and splashing water came to her ears, she looked over and beheld the sight of two small hands clutching desperately to the side of the bitter water fountain. "No!" Aphrodite cried as she raced to it and pulled the child from the water. Onya was soaked to her very core with the bitter water, she coughed it out of her small lungs, as she cried and clung to her mother.

"Horrid child! You had no right to rescue her!" Psyche thundered from the ground as she held her arms in front of her to shield her beautiful face from the wolf's snarling teeth. "She should never have been born!"

At that O fi'los snapped at Psyche's thigh, clamping his sharp teeth down around the soft flesh there. He tore off a small chunk of her milky skin before releasing her. Psyche kicked at him with the other leg, connected with his jaw and scrambled to her feet. She grabbed the thick stick she had been using to hold Onya under the bitter water and lashed out at the wolf with it. "Get back!" She shouted at it as he slowly continued to make his forward to her. Psyche swung out the with the stick and connected hard with the side of his head but the wolf did not give. "Aphrodite, call your beast off!" She shrieked.

"Why shouldn't I let the beast sink its teeth deep into your neck and rip the life right out of you?" Aphrodite thundered as she rose. The Graces came rushing out of the temple to witness the scene and seeing the crying shaking child took her up in their arms and carried her back into the safety of the temple. "You are the horrid one!" Aphrodite let fly a bursting bolt of pink energy which hit Psyche squarely in the chest knocking her to the ground once again. "You try to kill my daughter!" She let another one fly. "You curse her!" Another brilliant bolt. "She has done nothing to you!" Two quick and powerful bursts hit Psyche again. The demi-goddess lay on the ground gasping for breath and begging for Aphrodite to show her mercy, while the wolf circled around her. "Take that heap of pestilence and filth from my site." She demanded of the wolf.

O fi'los clamped his teeth onto Psyche's shoulder and began to drag her body away from Aphrodite's temple. Psyche cried out from the pain inflicted upon her by his sharp jagged teeth and to this he clamped them down harder.

"She is cursed!" Psyche cried defiantly as the wolf continued to drag her across the ground. "Cursed from her conception! Now she will never know love! No matter what you do, no matter how many centuries pass! Many times will the hands of men touch her but never once will they do it with love! You should have let me drown her."

The wolf clawed at her face with his large paws, scratching her cheeks deeply which made her cry out in agony. She did not talk any further. He dragged her far away from the temple, as she kicked and screamed at him to let her go. When he had dragged her deep into the woods, he released his mouth from the softness of her flesh, stood by her side and changed form.

Ares stood before her now. "Keep my daughter's existence from me!" He thundered as he laid a harsh hand on the flimsy material of the dress she wore. "Then try to kill her." He heaved her from the ground by the dress and reached out a large hand to slap her across the face back to the ground. "Insolent bitch!" A large heavy leather boot planted itself firmly in her side. "Were you not my son's wife, I would kill you here and now."

"You were not so concerned with your son's wrath when you took me." Psyche accused from her place on the forest floor below him.

"And I am not concerned with it now." Ares said darkly as he hovered above her. "You will answer to the Council for what you have done today."

"Will I?" Psyche laughed through her pain, "But then you would have to reveal how she was truly conceived. I do not think you willing to do that."

His stared cold fire at her while his nostrils flared. "Listen to me, beautiful whore," he crouched on the ground beside her and grabbed a handful of her auburn hair, "I will not let you turn your guilt and your shame into a reflection of me or my daughter. Tell them what you will, Psyche, but you remember this...I am an Olympian and you are merely Immortal. My wrath will never cease to reign down upon you or your descendants." Ares tightened his grip, forcing her head and body upward to meet him. He whispered in her ear. "Go near my daughter again and I will cut you down without thought." Ares took the form of O fi'los once again and sped off through the dense forest to Aphrodite's temple.

Onya was bathed, dried and redressed by Aphrodite and the Graces. The little girl was tucked into her bed showing no outward signs of having been harmed by the bitter water, but terrified from the experience of being held beneath it. Aphrodite held the little girls head to ample breasts and rocked her back and forth to soothe her.

"Why, mother? Why does the butterfly hate me so?" The little girl cried as she held tightly to her mother.

Aphrodite sighed deeply at the question. She looked down at the little girl in her arms to see shining clean face staring back at her, there was hurt and confusion in those black eyes. "Butterflies do not hate," she said sweetly, "that was not a butterfly."

"Then who was it?" Onya asked as gazed into the beautiful comforting blue eyes of her mother.

"Psyche," she said calmly as she lightly rubbed Onya's arms with her hands, "your true mother." Aphrodite turned the girl to look at her before Onya could say anything more. Aphrodite smiled beautifully at her which quelled any questions rising on her lips. "I love you, Onya. I have raised you and I am your mother. But I did not give life to you, Psyche did." A long gentle hand reached up to begin stroking the child's strawberry hair. "She does not hate you," Aphrodite sighed and shook slightly as the lie escaped her lips, "she's just confused." She felt the wetness of Onya's tears against her bosom and held the child tighter. "I love you and I am your mother." Aphrodite whispered strongly.

"She cursed me." Came Onya's small voice. "What will happen to me? She drown me in the bitter water."

Aphrodite was already resolved to do all that she could to remove the curse, even if it meant convening the Council itself to do so. Onya would not live under such a curse, she could not live that way. Daughter to Ares she was but she had already lived to long in Aphrodite's temple, already been exposed to love and beauty, Onya could never be happy without both of them. If she had been raised in his cave, Aphrodite would not worry so much, if he had raised her she would be stronger than she was. She would never have been exposed to such things as love and beauty, they would have given way to the likes of conflict and dark passions. If it had happened that way, Onya would have been all right, she would already be walking a path which did not necessarily include love in it nor beauty. Onya was not walking that path and she never fully would belong on it. "We will take care of that, I will do all that I can. I swear." Aphrodite whispered as she kissed the child's head.

O fi'los sauntered into the child's bedroom, leapt upon the bed and laid down next to her. Onya let go of her mother and wrapped her small arms around the wolf's large body as she cuddled in close to his thick matted fur, burying her small head behind his. "Thank you," she whispered to him. In answer he whimpered and flicked his tail. "Who is my father?" Onya asked in a small voice but did not turn to look at her mother.

Aphrodite stared down at the two of them laying on the bed together and smiled. Such a beautiful loving picture, she wondered if he was even aware of how they looked right now. "Show your true self," she said to the wolf, "I have always known who you are."

Onya found herself wrapped in the massive arms of a man she did not know. Her eyes fell upon the hard black leather he wore, the metal studs which ran through it. He was clad in hard leather pants and boots. Thick heavily studded arm guards graced both of his muscular forearms. Beautiful long black wavy hair fell past his shoulders. His face was slightly scared and he wore a thin beard and goatee. When she looked into his eyes, she saw her own reflected there and knew she was in the arms of her father.

Large frightened but trusting eyes looked up into his. "I am Ares," he said slowly, "God of War, I am your father." He laid his large on the back of her small head, it rested with room to spare in the palm and began to stroke her hair. "I will not let her hurt you. I will always protect you." He vowed. "You will always be my daughter."

"Ofi'los?" She asked in a small awe-filled whisper.

"Yes," Ares said softly, "always your friend. Always your father."

Aphrodite beamed at both of them as she watched Ares draw the child in close to him and comfort her. She had been fearful that he would be enraged when he discovered she had hidden a secret daughter of his, but here he was, being as tender and gentle with the little girl as he often was with her. Aphrodite reached a long hand out to stroke his hair and his eyes turned to her, there was not the slightest bit of anger in them at all. Ares reached a strong arm out to her, Aphrodite laid her body over both of them and he held them tightly. With two loving parents at her side, the terror filled events of the day washed away and Onya fell into a deep restful sleep.

A few days later, Aphrodite and Ares were true to their word and beseeched the entire Council of Gods to use Their combined powers and lift the curse Psyche had so maliciously laid upon Onya. While Zeus was always open to Aphrodite's attentions, the other Gods all detested Ares and would not move to help him help his daughter. The matter of Onya's conception was called into question and Psyche was called forth to answer. She stood on the top of Olympus in the middle of the Council Chamber before all of the Gods and proclaimed Ares had raped her. Eros erupted into anger as he turned himself into a giant flying beast. Take flight he lunged himself at his father as he swooped down upon Ares head. Razor sharp talons sunk through the heavy leather which guarded Ares shoulders drawing the Ichor which flowed through his veins, it flowed from the gaping holes in his flesh and down his arms. Ares tossed a fireball from his palm, striking his sons wing and setting it ablaze, Eros crashed to the Chamber floor.

"Willing was she!" Ares proclaimed strongly as his eyes flamed at all he saw. "I never forced her. Say of me what you will. Detest me because I am God of War if you will. Look away from me unable to look at your own reflections. Do not listen to her. Lies spill from her lips." He accused as he pointed at Psyche. "Not an Olympian. Not a true Goddess. Why should her word be worth more than mine?" Ares spat and then turned his stare to hers. "Eros was away," he whispered, "you were alone. You called to me, remember?" Ares strided slowly toward her. "Plied me with Nectar, you did. Lead me to your bed." He stood close to her body, towering over her and staring down. "Took me inside of you." Ares snarled lightly as he drew in a breath. "You remember how you screamed my name and begged me for more? I satisfied you, over and over again. Now you accuse me of rape. Why? Mortal guilt overwhelm you? Unable to admit that you took your husband's father into your body and you enjoyed it?"

Eros made a second attempt to attack his father but was held back by the guards. "Shut your mouth, father! It's not true. She never wanted you!" He shouted as he beat his wings against the arms which held them in a vain attempt to fly away.

"You held me down and planted that vile creature in my womb." Psyche stated in her own defense.

"I held you down," Ares admitted, "but you wanted me to."

"Vile creature is she." Psyche stated as she returned Ares' stare. "Born of rape. Endowed with the power and passions of war from her father. Endowed with the power of the soul from her mother." Psyche began to pace around the Council floor, looking each God directly in the eye as she went. "A creature who can reign war and terror simply by whispering it in a man's ear. A creature who can take over men's minds, their bodies, their souls, their very lives, and rule them from afar. Listen to me all of you, and look at Him." She turned swiftly and pointed at Ares who stood across from her. "Do you want any daughter of His to have such power? You know what he is. You know what he does. I am her mother and I say destroy her now, before she grows stronger."

"No!" Aphrodite thundered as she stepped forward. "I am her mother." Aphrodite stared at Psyche, daring her to proclaim otherwise. "Born of her womb, raised and loved by me. Onya's knows not the ways of war. Ares has taught her nothing. He did not even know of her existence until recently. I alone have raised her. I alone have loved her, cared for her. I am her mother. I say, she is a loving gentle child, with a strong and free spirit. She is no threat to you or to the mortals below."

"She is an abomination!" Psyche shrieked.

"Bitch!" Aphrodite shot.

"Enough!" Zeus demanded. "Bring the child before us."

The great stone doors of the Council Chamber swung open and a small girl with strawberry hair and onyx eyes shyly tottered through them. Onya stopped when she saw her mother and father standing side by side in front of the Gods and Goddesses who sat behind the arced granite table. She looked up at them as they looked down upon her. She felt very small and very frightened as she tried to stand still but kept shifting from foot to foot nervously. Onya glanced behind herself to see a bronze man with beautiful golden wings, his eyes were a piercing blue, though outwardly he was exquisite those eyes shined ice at her. Next to him was the woman who had turned herself into the butterfly in an attempt to kill her.

"Sit at the feet of your father." Zeus demanded of the small child.

His thunderous booming voice made the little girl jump and skitter to Ares, where she sat at quickly at his feet and held tightly to his ankle.

"Take the hand of your mother." Hera demanded.

For a brief moment Onya looked up at Aphrodite and then at Psyche, the woman who had tried to drown her in the bitter water. Onya reached her small hand out to Aphrodite who grasped it firmly in her own. The little girl sat on the cold stone floor of the Council Chamber clutching at the leather booted foot of her father, holding the warm hand of her mother and staring at the Council members not understanding why they were all gathered nor why they all looked so sternly at her when it was the butterfly woman who had tried to do her harm.

"We have heard enough." Zeus said quietly as he waved the guards forward.

Ares, Psyche, Eros, Aphrodite and little Onya were lead out of the Council chambers. When they were lead back inside they were informed of the conclusions the Council had reached. Onya would not be destroyed. It was not the child's fault how she came into being, no matter how vile her conception may have been. To make up for the injustice done to Psyche, they decided that they would not lift her curse from the child. They would soften it a bit, Onya would suffer at the hands of men, forced to bare her mother's pain and shame, until true love came along.

Aphrodite groaned at that, she would have much preferred a time limit some time around a thousand years other than True Love. True Love meant that she could not interfere in the matter, True Love grew on it's own. And it took it's own damn sweet time doing it, better to give her a structured sentence than allow her to hang in the wind like that. Not only that, but she was daughter to Ares, while Aphrodite knew first hand that love was not a concept which was totally alien to him, she also knew it would never be completely familiar to him either. Eros had the power to help things along in that area but Aphrodite knew he would never take pity on the little girl who was not only his sister but his step-daughter as well.

In order not to encourage the child in the ways of War, Ares would be not allowed to bring her to live with him. He would be allowed to see his daughter but he would not be allowed to skill her in the arts of War and Conflict. Aphrodite would see to it that the child did not hone her ability to touch the soul. Onya was never to leave Olympus for fear of her reeking havoc upon the mortals below.

"What are you trying to do?" Ares asked in disbelief. "You sentence my daughter to a lifetime of weakness? Of not ever knowing what and who she truly is? What right have you to say who she will become?"

"Do you want her to live?" Hera asked as she stared through the eyes of her son.

"Yes," Ares returned through gritted teeth.

"Then agree to these terms." Zeus demanded. "She will still be an Olympian Goddess. You still her father." Zeus looked at his son in a more narrower focus than his wife did. What did he see in those black pits? "That is what you want, isn't it?"

"Yes," came the reply though His lips barely moved. Ares' large hand grasped the hilt of his sword. "Listen to me, since she will live only here on Olympus, if any harm befalls her at the hands of a man, we all know it will be one of you!" He thundered as he drew the sword from his side. "May all of the Gods of the Universe help you then." Ares turned his back on the Council as his large arms reached down swooping his daughter up from the floor and left the Chambers.

For the next twelve years Ares watched his daughter grow in Grace and Beauty guided by Aphrodite's hand. Often he came to her temple, sometimes in the form of the wolf, sometimes as himself and he would walk with Onya through the gardens taking her into the deep forest beyond. On the thick forest floor they would sit facing each other holding hands and staring into each others eyes. Ares taught her how to feel the fires of Olympus and how to call forth thunderstorms and tempests.

This was not a breech of the Councils orders, not in his mind, he was not skilling her in the arts of war but he was teaching her to harness and focus her own powers. The Council seemed to want her to grow up ignorant of them, Ares would not allow that to happen. No child of his would be weak, unable to defend themselves against any who sought to harm them. If he could not teach her how to best an enemy with a sword, he would show her how to use the fury of the wind to carry them away from her.

Onya learned quickly and she learned well. She always smiled so brightly at him when she pleased him. It was not long until Onya passed from little girl into a budding and beautiful young woman. She was tall and strong, Ares admired her full breasts and the curve of her waist. Each time his daughter was near him he grew hard with desire and dark passions. As she grew, Ares realized he was falling madly in love with her. So many times he had tried to touch her with a loving hand and each time he did the hand at the end of his arm went rigid and wanted to strike her. Afraid it would be himself who would be first to bring Psyche's curse to fruition, Ares took to seeing his daughter less and less as her body tempted him more and more. Only when he came to in the form of O fi'los was the want to take her allayed and he free to allow her to run her hands through his thick coat of fur.

As is the case with most teenagers, even Goddesses, the older they get the more time they want to spend away from home and Onya was no exception. No longer content to be confined to Aphrodite's part of Olympus, she had taken to wandering off in all directions at any time of the day. Usually she was looking for Ares, always had she wanted to see where he lived. She never found him. During one of her longer excursions Onya found herself at the foot of Olympus, just below her was the place where the mortals lived, earth they called it. She had heard it was a place filled with many people and all sorts of wonders, she wanted very much to see it. Ares and Aphrodite had repeatedly told her that she should not step off of the mountain and onto the earth below. Onya had not seen her father in months and was beginning to think he had grown angry with her, something she had said or done. Why else would he turn his back on her in such a manner when he had always been there for her in the past? She was beginning to realize something else, she was angry with him for ignoring her so long. Let Hades care about what Ares wants, she thought as she stepped her first foot off of the mountain's terrain.

There were no lightning bolts. No one screamed. The sky did not turn dark ahead. The young woman drew in her first breath of earth's air and went onward through Greece. Onya wandered the country for many months, meetings its people and learning its customs. She felt free as she traveled through the villages and on the rutted roads, no one was looking over her shoulder to see what she was up to. No one told her where she should be or what she should be doing. Most of all, she was free to talk to anyone she please, male or not. Aphrodite had been so strict with her, the only man Onya had ever seen was her father. Not even Zeus was permitted to come and visit his granddaughter. Onya understood that was due to the curse Psyche had laid upon her, understood Aphrodite was only trying to look out for her, but still, to go so long without seeing even a single man? As she grew, that had become harder and harder to live with.

On a cold rainy day as Onya traveled through Athens she met a man named Halirrhothius, he had golden hair and wide blue eyes, so unlike the dark skinned, dark haired men of this city. Onya was instantly captivated by his smile. The rain poured down and he offered her shelter at his home, Onya accepted gratefully. She had followed him through the labyrinth streets to a small hut near the middle of the city. He lit a bright fire and offered her something to eat. They shared a few glasses of wine and conversation while the rain continued outside. When the rain ceased to fall and Onya rose to thank him for his kindness and take her leave of him, the handsome man with whom she had spent such a lovely afternoon, grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and forced her down upon the straw mattress. Strong fingers grasped at the material of her dress and her flesh, they ripped the dress away from her leaving dark bruises upon her porcelain skin.

Onya screamed out for her father, "Ares! Ares!"

Mount Olympus shook from its base to its top at the sound of her scream. Ares looked down from his place near the summit to see his daughter on earth laying in the hungry grasp of Poseidon's son. He raced his chariot toward where she lay trapped beneath him.

The man with the golden hair and the wide blue eyes slapped her hard across the face as she cried for her father, a blow which sent her head reeling then crashing to the mattress below her. With forceful hands he spread her naked legs apart as he wriggled from the pants he wore. He stood before her for a moment, his body tight and his penis standing at full attention so that the tip stood well above his navel, he gave to her an evil grin as he swung one leg over her waist and mounted her.

Onya felt herself split in two from the force of his entry, she scratched and clawed at him as she screamed again for her father to protect her. To the sounds of her screams he thrust himself further in and out of her while her virgin Ichor spilled down over the hardness of his shaft. "No!" She shrieked. For the very first time in her life, Onya discovered the secret powers within her. "Get off of me!" She hissed quietly as she stared into the cold blue eyes above her. The man thrusting so ruthlessly into her flinched. "Get off of me!" Breath taking colors danced before her eyes as she entered the man's mind and once again whispered. "Get off of me."

As Ares sped his way down the mountain side, the golden haired man released his hold on Onya. With long strong legs, she kicked him away from her body, he landed across the room. Onya watched with horrified eyes as he shook off the blow and rose to his feet, his penis still hard and waiting between his legs. He rose and lunged toward her once again. Onya grabbed for the chair and smashed it across his head as he flew at her. She raised it high over her head and hit him with once more as he lay on the floor.

Tossing the splintered wood aside, her eyes fell upon the table and the knife there, she grabbed it in her hand and straddled his back. "You think you can violate me?" She hissed in his ear. "Never." She drew the blade across his neck splitting it from ear to ear. Satisfaction reigned over her as the Ichor flooded from his veins and spilled to cover the floor below him. A God? Which God was he?

The door swung open and Ares rushed inside, his sword drawn in front of him. Onya turned quickly and stared back at him with wild blood thirsty eyes and Ichor stained hands. Poseidon's son lay dead beneath her. "Onya," he gasped as his large body brought itself to his knees beside her. "Daughter, what have you done?"

"He thought he could have me." She hissed at him as he continued to sit atop the corpse. "I am stronger than he."

"Yes," Ares agreed as he took the knife from her hand. "I see that you are strong." He gathered her up quickly and put the ragged clothes upon her body. "For this, there will be a heavy price to pay. No mere mortal was he and you know it." Hurriedly he brought over to a bucket filled with water and washed her hands of the stain.

A blinding flash of light ignited the small hut, Onya held her hand to her face against the brightness of it, Ares stood firm and watched his father take form. "What have you wrought now, Ares?" Zeus demanded. "Look what your uncontrolled anger has done!" He shouted as he gazed down upon the body of his dead nephew.

Onya, with her head hung low, took a single step forward. Large hands belonging to her father, pushed her back into place. "He raped my daughter." Ares said strongly. "I had every right to kill him for it."

"We will see about that." Zeus shot back.

Suddenly the young woman stood alone in the cottage, not even the corpse of her attacker remained. Zeus had taken Ares and the body away and left her behind. Before Onya could lay a small foot outside the hut, Aphrodite appeared before her.

"You must come back to Olympus now." Aphrodite told her in a chiding tone. "Foolish, daughter, I know your heart better than any. You knew not to come here. Not to leave Olympus. Look what your impetiousness has brought. They have taken your father away in chains!"

Onya's mouth dropped open in an expression of absolute horror as she backed away from the woman she called Mother and the fire in her eyes. "No," came the small whisper.

"Poseidon will have him tried for murder when Eros rises again. The Council will decide his fate." Aphrodite's voice has an iciness that Onya had never thought possible.

Onya began to weep. "Father," she whispered, "Ares, forgive me." Hesitantly she reached out for the long tapered hand of Aphrodite and they rode swiftly back to Olympus.

Just as Aphrodite had said when Eros rose again, Ares was dragged to the top of the Aeropagus in chains to stand trial for the murder of Posedions' son. The Elder Olympian's would be his judge and jury while the others looked on as witnesses to the event. Ares stood tall and strong. Though the chains were forged by Hephaestus, BlackSmith to the Gods, and kept him from using his powers, they did stop Ares' pride or his temper. Ares admitted freely that he had killed the boy, but it was a justified act, he had been caught raping Onya and for the offense Ares said that he had cut the boy's throat.

For the second time in her short tumultuous life, Onya was called before the Council. Now, as a young woman and not a mere child, she stood as tall and strong as her father before them as they berated her with questions about what Halirrhothius had done to her.

Had she liked it?
Had she wanted him?
Teased him?
Flaunted herself about him?

What was it the wretched little Goddess had done to provoke Halirrhothius to such an extreme?

Through all the questions and accusations Onya stuck to her father's tale, all of it the truth, except for how Halirrhothius had actually died. At her hands, not those of her father.

Ares grew angry and impatient with the questions which were shot like lightning bolts at his daughter. He rose spitefully from his place on the rock, his hands held in front of him by the chains, his legs given barely enough room to walk with the leg irons upon them, he began to make his way toward where the Council sat.

"Sit, Ares." Zeus commanded. "You've had your say."

"You will not treat my daughter this way." Ares eyes smoldered bitter hatred at all of them. "I told you that you would need the help of all the Gods of the Universe should something befall her. You did not listen to me. This is the result." Black curls flew through the air as he turned his head quickly toward Poseidon, his Uncle, "Your despicable son thought he could touch my daughter when his touch was unwanted. Such is the price he paid for his arrogance." He turned to look at the rest of them. "You all refused to lift the curse Psyche wrought upon her. Such is the price you pay for your pride."

"You will hold a civil tongue when you speak to us, Ares, or I will punish you." Zeus threatened.

This time it was Onya who turned her head quickly to face her grandfather. "Threaten my father, old man?" She hissed as her eyes blackened further than their normal color. The anger she had bit upon as they shot question after question at her as they accused her of being a whore, rose to the surface of her being. "I think not." She said in a slow voice as she found that secret power within and focused all of it upon the God of Gods.

Zeus raised his hands to his throat and began to make low gurguling noises. He coughed and turned red, as his hands clamped tighter upon his own air way. The Council rose to his defense and his aid but no matter what they did they could not stop him from choking himself.

"Punish my father, will you?" Onya asked in a softly chiding voice. Deeper and deeper her mind probed Zeus' soul, forcing his hands to clamped tighter around his own throat.

Spittle flew from the old God's lips, as stumbled backward trying to force his hands way from his own throat. "No," he croaked through rasping gasps for air, "I will not." Zeus's fingers relaxed and came under his own control once again, he ripped them away from his wind pipe. "You killed Halirrhothius." Zeus stated firmly as the redness died out of his cheeks.

"No, I did." Ares said strongly.

"Ares, you are found innocent by the Council in the murder of Halirrhothius." Zeus said as he regained a firmer control of himself. "You, Onya, are guilty." He slammed the gavel down upon the heavy stone table.

"No!" Ares thundered as he lunged toward the Council.

"Take them both away!" Zeus and the Gods dispersed quickly, nothing more than cockroaches scurrying for cover when the lights come on.

Onya reached her arms out to her father as she felt herself dematerializing, she faded from his view as they took her back to Olympus and tossed her into the dungeon there. All through the cold night the Council debated and deliberated over what should be done with her. Aphrodite begged and pleaded with them to release Ares and Onya, she would see that his wrath went unignited and that her powers were checked. They refused her. Ares would spend many months in chains and Onya would be destroyed. With the last of the strength in her heart she beseeched them to at least allow Ares to spend one last night with his daughter. For they did truly love each other after all, didn't they deserve that much? To this request the council gave in. Zeus lead Aphrodite down to the dungeon where Ares sat behind bars, chains still on his wrists and feet.

"What's happening?:" He demanded.

"Hush, Lover. You do not want to know." Aphrodite whispered as Onya was ushered down the hall by two guards with large swords held to her throat. They thrust her inside Ares cell and slammed the door.

"Remove my chains, father." Ares pleaded as he held them out to Zeus.

"Do not defy me, Ares. You will suffer the wrath of all the Gods." Zeus warned as he took the shackles from his sons hands and feet.

Ares took the form of the wolf which Onya had loved so much. She ran to him then and threw her arms about his neck as she wept freely into his thick fur. Ares lapped at her face and nuzzled against the warmth of her young body. Aphrodite watched with tearfilled eyes as Onya took him into her arms and curled her body against his so closely it appeared as though she were trying to crawl inside of him. There they slept, on the cold floor of the old cell, she wrapped around him, and he bringing her warmth and comfort to face tomorrow.

When the moon rose again, Onya was strapped to the altar of Ares temple. All the Gods and Goddess' descended to watch her sentence be carried out. They chained Ares to a rock to keep him in his place while they called Bacchus forth. Ares watched in horror as the winged and horned God made his way to where his daughter lay.

Bacchus' rank mouth closed down around the soft flesh of Onya's neck as she lay strapped to the altar, his sharp teeth sunk bit deeply into her skin and she felt the Ichor drain slowly from her body into his. Her eyes turned to face her father who sat chained like an animal and made to watch his daughter's execution. "I love you, father." She whispered as her eyes began to close. "I love you, father."

Ares let out a cry unequaled by ten thousand men as the last of the fluid which kept his daughter alive was sucked dry by Bacchus. The heavens and the earth trembled under and over his primal scream. Hades stepped forward to claim her body and take her to the Underworld with him. Gently he unstrapped her arms and legs and lifted her body to his own. He spoke not a word as he wrapped his cloak around her lifeless form but his eyes stopped to meet those of his nephew, he saw there the horror and despair which Ares felt at losing his child.

"I love you, daughter." Ares whispered while he wept and Hades carried her body past him, making his way silently through the dark night.

While there are still many more chapters to be coded and uploaded, that's it for now.  E-mail and let me know what you think so far.

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