I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

“How about you come with me?” I asked, my voice quiet but firm.

The question hung in the air between us, heavy with meaning. I didn’t know what answer I expected, or if I even expected one at all. But as Khillea’s eyes met mine, her expression softened, and I could see the flicker of surprise—and perhaps something more—in her gaze.

But then, as if a shadow passed over her thoughts, her gaze turned reluctant, the softness replaced by something guarded.

“After the war, you can just come with me,” I said, trying to bridge the silence that had grown between us.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she stared past me, her lips pressed tightly together, as if weighing words she wasn’t yet ready to share.

I tilted my head back, frustration creeping into my voice. “I feel like you’re hiding something from me, Khillea. Something important, something I should know.”

Her eyes snapped back to mine, her brows furrowing. “And I know you’re hiding things from me too, Nathan,” she shot back, her tone defensive but not unkind.

“Then maybe it won’t work between us,” I said bluntly. “With so many secrets between us, don’t you think it’s doomed from the start?”

“I’m not asking it to work,” she countered, her voice quieter now, almost wistful. “I just asked you to stay with me… until the end. Until the war ends.”

There it was again—the cryptic way she spoke, as though her words carried layers I couldn’t unravel.

“What are you talking about, Khillea?” I asked, my frustration slipping into my tone. “Can’t you just speak plainly?”

But I already knew my answer, even if her words left me confused. “I’m sorry, but I can’t,” I said firmly.

My place was in Troy, not here among the Greeks. The very thought of staying in these camps, surrounded by their savagery, made my stomach churn. Achilles’ tent was likely the only sanctuary in this chaotic cesspool, but even that wasn’t enough to convince me.

Khillea turned her gaze away from me after saying that.

Trying to ease the tension, I attempted a joke. “I don’t want to anger Achilles. He’s probably sharpening his spear now that I’ve impregnated his sister.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You don’t even know him,” she replied, her voice softer now.

“Well, I know he’s odd enough to leave his sister and Briseis for me to fuck in his absence,” I said with mock incredulity.

The moment Briseis’s name left my lips, Khillea’s expression darkened. A shadow fell over her features, and her body seemed to tense.

Of course, I’d heard the rumors—what Agamemnon had done. That filthy, arrogant piece of shit.

Briseis had always struck me as a kind woman, her beauty matched by a quiet dignity. She didn’t deserve what had happened to her, especially at the hands of someone like Agamemnon. A fleeting memory of her surfaced in my mind—her grace, her gentle and shy demeanor. If I’d known what would befall her, I might have taken her with me when I left along Astynome.

The weight of those regrets sat heavily on me, but I pushed them aside. There was no changing the past, no undoing what had already been done.

Wait—maybe it wasn’t too late.

The thought struck me like lightning. I could still take Briseis away when I left for Troy tonight. The idea widened my eyes, a plan forming as another way to ruin Agamemnon’s day popped into my head.

“She was my only friend, and that trash king took her away,” Khillea muttered, her fists clenched tightly.

Her words made me pause. Only friend? I hadn’t known they were that close. Seeing the hurt etched into her face, I instinctively reached out and grasped her hand. She didn’t pull away. Instead, her fingers tightened around mine, her touch both desperate and resolute.

“Why didn’t Achilles stop him?” I asked, unable to hide the irritation in my voice.

Khillea’s silence was answer enough. My mind raced. Achilles could have stopped it—should have stopped it. He wasn’t the type to bow to anyone, let alone someone like Agamemnon. Even in the myths, he gave Briseis to Agamemnon, but I couldn’t recall if it was this effortless. Could there have been a reason? At this moment, none of it made sense.

“If it were me,” I muttered, “I’d have told Agamemnon to go to hell.”

“You are speaking boldly for serving under Agamemnon’s brother.” Khillea’s lips twitched with something akin to amusement, but it quickly faded. “Whatever the reason, it’s too late now,” she said, though her voice carried a hint of regret.

“Is she in Agamemnon’s tent?” I pressed.

I could imagine her state right now, it’s been a few weeks since he had taken her after all. She might be broken.

But Khillea’s answer denied it.

“I heard he hasn’t touched her yet. He’s keeping her for the ‘best,’ preparing her.” She spat the words as if they left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Preparing her?” I echoed, though I already dreaded the answer.

“He’s… breaking her,” Khillea said, her voice trembling with anger. “He’s forcing her to watch while he abuses other women—prisoners, helpless and broken. He’s doing it to drain her, to make her despair. When he finally takes her, he wants to savor her submission, her broken spirit.”

What a perverted sadism…

I did similar before but doing on women who had done nothing to you, innocent women and raping other “innocent women” to break an “innocent woman”, was something I’d never do.

But this… this was better than I’d expected. The bastard hadn’t touched her yet, saving her for his grand moment. My smirk crept onto my face, unbidden. This was going to be satisfying.

A flicker of amusement lifted my mood, and I reached out, placing my hand on Khillea’s swollen belly. “I can feel her,” I murmured, the sensation grounding me.

Khillea’s lips curved into a faint smile. But then, as if struck by a sudden thought, her expression turned contemplative.

“Do you want to keep her? Raise her?” she asked, her tone earnest.

“What?” I blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected question. Her seriousness left no room for doubt—she wasn’t joking.

Why was she asking me to keep the baby? Shouldn’t she raise her? It seemed like the natural choice. It would be better that way, wouldn’t it?

“I thought of leaving her education to my mother,” Khillea explained, her voice soft. “She’s excellent at it, but… you’re her father. You have the right to decide as well.”

I shook my head slowly, firmly. “It’s better if you do it,” I said, my voice heavy. “I don’t have an easy life…”

The weight of my words hung between us. I didn’t need to elaborate. Soon, I’d have to face the Divine Knights, and even worse—some gods. My life was chaos, a storm brewing on all fronts.

“My life isn’t easy either,” Khillea said, her voice steady but carrying an undercurrent of frustration. “If I ever thought I could be a good mother, I’d have already had children by now. My mother is better at this than I’ll ever be.”

“Yet you still chose to have a baby in the end,” I pointed out, curiosity edging into my tone. “Why the change of heart?”

Khillea paused, her expression softening as she looked down at her belly. “Because I wanted to leave something in this world…” Her voice trailed off, and I could tell there was more she wasn’t saying.

“Then you should leave her to your mother,” I said, trying to keep my tone neutral. A thought struck me. “You have the same mother as Achilles? Then she’s a goddess, right?”

I already suspected as much—it had to be Thetis. But something about Khillea’s connection to Achilles had always felt… unusual.

Khillea nodded, smirking slightly. “Yes, a goddess.” Her eyes gleamed with mischief. “By the way, she wants to see you. Patroclus went to bring her.”

“What?”

I shot to my feet, alarm coursing through me. This was bad. Really bad.

“Thetis wants to see me? Why?” I demanded, though I already feared the answer. She was a goddess. Face-to-face, my usual tricks and disguises wouldn’t hold up. The gods in the heavens might not notice me from afar, but up close? She’d see right through me.

And if she was truly Thetis—Achilles’ mother—then she was aligned with the Greeks. If she discovered I was working with Troy, I was as good as dead.

“Why are you scared?” Khillea laughed, her voice lilting with amusement as she walked toward the bath. She slipped into the water, sighing in pleasure.

“I have to leave,” I said quickly, pulling my pants back on, urgency overriding everything else.

“Come join me,” she teased, her lips curving into a sensual smile.

This woman… I’d just taken her anal virginity, and she was still trying to seduce me?

“Spartans will get suspicious if I’m late,” I replied, seizing on the excuse. Patroclus had mentioned the tension between Achilles and the other Greek armies, and it was a convenient out.

“It’ll only take a minute,” Khillea insisted, leaning back in the bath. “She just wants to know how I got pregnant when I was told I could never conceive.”

Her words made me freeze. She couldn’t get pregnant? And yet, somehow, she had… with me?

This was worse than I thought. If Thetis wanted to meet me because of that, there was no way she wouldn’t notice something strange about me.

“I’m sorry. I’ll come back later,” I said hastily, pulling on my shirt.

“Where are you going?”

I turned, my chest tightening at the sight of a woman standing in the doorway. She looked like Khillea but older—more regal, with an aura that seemed to radiate divinity.

My breath caught. This had to be Thetis.