He lets out a laugh. “Yeah… Are you going to keep collecting bad guys? Maybe we can ‘rescue’ them all.”
Bad guys? Rude.
I manage to get out of bed. Training usually continues once we can get out of bed, no matter how wounded we are. I’ve always been jealous of how Oliver heals himself, although I guess he needs to, since he enrages Viggo. I don’t think anyone else has ever gotten it worse. And if Viggo ever finds out where he ran to, I know he won’t hesitate to trap Oliver in the Taka cage forever.
I sneak down the hall. The five of them all sound so happy together, and it makes me feel a strange pang. They’re losers, I know that. Izzy is so naive and sweet and stupid it’s unreal. I can’t believe we’re related. She ate up that memory of when we were kids.
The truth is, I cried plenty of times after that flight, missing my mom and my twin.
But Viggo has turned me into someone different, someone sharp and unbreakable, and I like this version of Thea a hell of a lot more. And Ran inside me makes me feel strong and alive.
No, I’d never want to be anyone else. Ran and Aegin belong together, and I'm lucky I get to be the vessel of the goddess.
I creep to the stairs, past the old painting that hangs in the hallway. I can hear them gathering below in the big living room. Mr. Time, that old jackass, explains to them that they need to steal the box from our castle. So they want to trap us the same way we wanted to trap them. Funny that we’re supposed to be the bad guys, even though we both have the same plans.
“So what do you think of your granddaughter anyway?” Van asks Mr. Time suddenly.
I freeze. Wait. That’s my mother’s father?
“I think she’s been through a lot,” he says candidly, “and some people are undamaged by the darkness they walk through, and some…rot.”
Rot. Rage coils in my chest, tightening my lungs. My fingers flex with my magic. I hope that old bastard doesn’t plan to sail the open sea anytime soon, for his sake.
“You think she’s rotten?” Izzy asks softly.
“I think we can’t trust her,” Mr. Time says. “But I hope you’re right in your assessment of her, Izzy.”
He doesn’t sound hopeful.
“I didn’t tell you what my assessment was,” she says lightly.
“But we all know you,” he says.
Jealousy washes over me. Not only is she more powerful than I am, everyone thinks she’s so lovely and perfect.
I wonder if there’s a way to take that away from her.
I hear someone behind me, and when I turn, I come face-to-face with Oliver. He tries to duck into his room, but I caught a glimpse of him. I cover the distance between where I stood and the door that just swung closed in a few quick strides.
“Oliver, let me in,” I whisper. “You and I need to have a conversation.”
No wonder they joked about Izzy collecting bad guys.
Reluctantly, he swings the door open again. The look on his face is guarded, with an edge of terror. Good. He should be afraid.
“What are you doing here?” I demand.
He shrugs, his face tight. “Look at them, Thea. They’re good. They’re happy. We could be like them.”
I shake my head, pushing past him. “There’s no such thing as good, Oliver. You’re turning into an even bigger idiot than you ever were before.” I close the door behind me. “You know when this ends, it’s going to be just us and Viggo standing. But don’t worry, Oliver; I know just how to smooth this over. How to make sure Viggo doesn’t force us to kill you...for real this time.”
His lips tighten. “What’s the plan?” he asks reluctantly.
“That’s my little survivor,” I croon. “You always find your way back to life don’t you, Oliver?”
Chapter Twenty
Izzy
It’s late. I lie in the huge bed in my room in the castle and stare out the window. A cold breeze floats in, but the fire in my fireplace adds a perfect contrast to the cold, and the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks far below me should be the perfect sound to fall asleep to, but sleep feels so far away. My sister is in the house with me. My sister. The person I’ve searched for all my life.
And I don’t trust her.
I hear the creak of my door opening. Stiffening, I look back at the doorway to find Van standing, his hair messy, wearing nothing but boxers. His usually guarded expression is gone, replaced by one of uncertainty.
Unable to help myself, I sit up, smiling. “Come in.”
He nods and closes the door softly behind him, then crosses the space between us. When he’s standing over my bed, he hesitates again.
“Lonely?” I ask.
He sinks onto the bed and touches my face, running his hand along my cheek. “I’m worried about you.”
“I didn’t think Van Wellington worried.”
He smirks, but it’s a kind smirk. “I think it’s Tyr inside of me. The guy always wants to be a hero, in every situation. He also wants justice… He keeps trying to convince me to get rid of Oliver and Thea. I finally stuffed him down so deep I couldn’t hear him anymore.”
“Good, because we’re definitely not getting rid of them. Not until I know who they are deep down.”
He looks relieved. “So you’re okay?”
“I’d be more relieved if I wasn’t sleeping alone tonight…”
“Sleeping…?” He quirks a brow.
Something deep inside of me aches. This man is so damn beautiful. Hard on the outside and my softy on the inside. He always has a way of making me feel special that I’m one of the people he let inside.
“Maybe not sleeping exactly.” I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it off, then wiggle out of my shorts and underwear.
Van’s expression grows dark with desire, and he stands, dropping his boxers. For a second, he really does look like a god. His skin seems to glow in the firelight, and his body is so damned muscular and hard in every way. I lean up onto my knees, and his mouth wordlessly captures mine.
His touch is so damned gentle, as if he’s trying to carefully pull my dark thoughts away and bring me into the light of his embrace. And somehow, it’s perfect. Just what I need in every way.
When our kiss breaks, he looks down at me, his gaze worshipping. “I love you. I don’t know how you managed it, but I love you more than anything.”
“I love you too,” I say.
His hands drift down my arms, and goosebumps rise on my flesh. When he captures my breasts and gently pinches my nipples, I sigh and let my head fall back. He leans down and captures one peak in his mouth, and I moan, digging my hands into his hair. He stays there for a while, sending my thoughts spiraling away, before moving onto the other breast.
“Van, please,” I moan.
His hand drifts down and parts me, then strokes my wet folds. And as always, I’m amazed. Amazed by how he can seem to awaken everything inside of me with such a soft touch.
“Please,” I whisper. “Van, I need you inside of me.”
For a minute, he continues to suck my breast and stroke my body, but then he reluctantly pulls away. “You’re sure, babe?”
“Fuck, yes.”
His chuckle is low and husky as he pushes me back on the bed. He lifts my legs, then spreads them and moves between them, dragging me closer to the edge of the bed, so I’m at the perfect angle. When his cock slides into my folds, I’m wet and ready, my hands tangling into the sheets.
But Van knows just how to work me. How to ease into my body as it squeezes and holds him tightly. And he knows just when to stop and let me get used to his size.
I’m breathing hard when he leans over me and starts to kiss me again. My nails dig into his back, and he slides out, then slams back into me. I cry out in pleasure against his mouth, and I feel a shudder wrack his body.
Over and over again, he thrusts into me, and I wrap my legs around his back to hold him closer. To take him deeper. We work together then, creating a perfect rhythm to build our pleasure.
Until at last I come, screaming his name, and he explodes inside of me, my name tearing from his lips.
As the waves of my orgasm start to fade, my head lolls to the side. I’m still shaking, desire racing through me, when my eyes connect with Thea’s. Her expression is thunderous, and then she slips from the room and is gone.
My heart races. Not from the mind-blowing sex, but from the realization that my sister just walked in on Van and I together. Why? Why would she do such a thing?
I almost tell Van, but he’s already unsure of her, so I keep silent. What just happened will need to be addressed. But this isn’t a god thing.
This is something between sisters.
Chapter Twenty-One
Thea
I teleport out of that fucking castle and appear in my room. Picking up a vase from on a table, I throw it, smashing the damn thing against the wall. The pieces go flying, but even though it should make me feel better, it doesn’t. So, I kick my nightstand over. I break a lamp. I tear through my room destroying everything I can pick up.
And then I collapse in the center of the room. Spent far too quickly as a result of the wounds all over my body. But the wounds don’t hurt nearly as much as what I just saw.
What the hell was that?
His name is Van, and apparently, he is Tyr. Some fucking god of heroic glory and justice. And apparently, not only had my sister escaped Viggo, but she had four men who really did love her, just not the way Barret loved me. Their love was…different.
Van had said he loved her. It wasn’t some barbed thing he threw out at her. It wasn’t something he purred into her ear while he hurt her. He’d said it, just staring at her.
And their sex…it was gentle. I thought it’d be some loser version of sex that they referred to as “love making.” I wasn’t sure how my sister would make sex all pink fluffy clouds and PG shit, but I was ready for it.
But it wasn’t fluffy clouds, it was...hot. Not a quick banging, but something more. They’d worked together like they could’ve spent all day fucking.
I hate her.
I hate everything about her.
And I hate her gorgeous men who all wanted some basic bitch. Some boring woman who trusted the whole world because she’d never experienced a single bad thing.
It isn’t until that moment that I realize the sea has gone nuts outside the window. It smashes against our castle, a roar of anger that matches my own. I keep forgetting just how much my emotions can impact it, but I love that they do. I love that when I suffer, other people suffer too.
Suddenly, my door cracks open. My stomach flips, and I fully expect my father to walk in. Instead, it’s Barret. And it’s strange that I don’t know how I feel when I see him. Love flows through me, but Izzy’s words haunt me. Is it the goddess inside of me that loves him, or do I? I loved him before the gods, didn’t I?
He’s dripping wet and naked. No surprise there. Nowadays he spends more time in the ocean in his shifted form than he does on land, but perhaps he felt my anger and came to check on me.
“You’re back,” he says, quietly closing the door.
I nod.
“Does that mean you’ve been successful?”
“Partially, but I’m not done yet. I just…needed a break.”
He glances at my ruined room and closes the space between us. Beneath the light of the moon, he looks powerful and menacing. “What happened?”
“I saw Izzy and one of her men fucking.” The words come out bitter.
“Oh?” A smile twists his lips, and he moves to stand behind me. “And that turned you on?”
“No, I--” I’m cut off as his hand slides up my leg.
He draws down my pants from behind.
“Barret, things are so different between them.”
His hand fists my hair and shoves me so that I’m half bent over the bed. “I can’t imagine it’s very kinky.”
“Not kinky,” I say, breathing hard.
He slams into me from behind, and we fuck hard for a long minute before he comes, sagging over me. His body is wet and cold from the sea.
I stare at the shattered vase on the wall. “I love you.”
“I know you do,” he whispers, then pulls out of me.
As he walks to the door, he stares back at me. “Now go handle our god friends so you can come back to me and get my hard dick every day.”
“Okay,” I say.
He leaves, closing the door silently behind him.
I don’t move, my pants still down, my gaze on the broken vase on the floor. It’s strange. I regret breaking it. The vase had been lovely. Something I’d cherished. Something pretty in a place full of ugliness.
I wonder if I’ll feel this same way when I broke Izzy.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Aiden
The next day, I pull Oliver aside in the kitchen before breakfast. I hate to leave Izzy, but the other guys will watch over her.
Mr. Time wants me to see just how much we can trust him. When I became anyone’s go-to guy, I’m not sure. After thinking I killed my sister for years, I’ve just assumed everyone sees me as the fuck-up. I still feel like the fuck-up deep down--it amazes me that Izzy loves me.
But it’s starting to feel a little less amazing and a little more natural every day. Because the five of us are family.
“What is it?” Oliver asks suspiciously. He grips his coffee mug in one hand, and he takes a step back as if he’s putting some distance between us.
“Why are you acting all squirrely?” I demand. Is he up to something?
“Ha,” he says. “Well, you people kind of have a track record of killing me, remember?”
“We’re bigger than the gods inside,” I tell him.
He scoffs at that. “Sure.”
I guess it really doesn't help our case that Wilder already killed him once. But I still say, “You know none of us have to be the gods’ servants.”
I can practically feel Thor grunt his disagreement. It makes me smile. The most powerful warrior among the gods has a hard time being contained...and I know he’d do anything to get out again.
“What are you talking about?” Oliver asks. “That’s literally why we exist.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. If we hadn’t been marked by the gods, we’d be living our own lives, right? What would you be doing? Right now?”
He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, I guess, right now, I wouldn’t be having a stupid conversation that has nothing to do with our actual plane of reality,” he says drily. But then he seems to think about the question.
I go on, “Well, anyway. Mr. Time wants me to go to a museum today to check and see if there’s some weird old relic there. He thinks it’ll help us defeat Viggo.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “And you want me along because why?”
“Because I want to get to know you better, so I know if you’re going to open the front door to those other assholes while we’re asleep and gut us all in our sleep,” I say frankly.
He huffs a laugh at that. “Those other assholes would gut me too for running off, trust me. I know from experience.”
“They’ve accidentally killed you too?”
He stares back at me, a grim set to his lips. “No. They killed me on purpose. They knew I’d come back, so they did it to make a point.”
That’s dark. “What a bunch of assholes.”
“Yeah, well,” he says. “So far you don’t seem much better.”
But his tone doesn’t hold any rancor anymore.
“Breakfast.” Brenda leans in the doorways, her tattooed arms crossed over her chest.
“We’re going to hit the road,” I say. “But thanks.”
She tilts an eyebrow at the two of us. “I’d say to stay out of trouble, but let’s be frank, I don’t hold high hopes.”
When we’ve settled into the car, Oliver confesses, “She is cute in a hot mom kind of way...”
&nbs
p; “She’s terrifying.”
“Well, yeah, that too.” He flashes me a grin that almost makes me want to like him.
The two of us drive out to a museum far away. It’s a long drive through the beautiful scenery, but Oliver and I don’t talk much yet, we just listen to music.
“What does this thing look like?” he asks me.
“It’s a knife that absorbs some of the power of the gods,” I say. “So I assume it looks…pointy. It also has runes on the sheath and the blade.”
I pick up a folded piece of paper from between us and lift it between two fingers. He unfolds it and studies the runes.
This mission isn’t entirely fake. It would be handy to have the knife, but it doesn’t do much to the gods. It absorbs their power to imbue the knife with magic.
But for someone like Viggo, who seems to have some of the power of the gods because of a bargain he made with them, that knife might just drain him.
“I don’t know how you’re going to take out Viggo,” he says.
“We stopped Thea and the godslayers before,” I say. “Now we’ve maybe got you and Thea on our side. Against Connor, Barret, Viggo? I like our odds.”
He scoffs at that. “You can’t trust Thea.”
“I know,” I say.
He looks as if he has more to say, but he returns to just studying the runes. “Do you really think this could work? That Viggo could lose his powers?”
“I really think this can work,” I promise.
When we arrive, the museum is just opening.
We go inside and look around, checking out all their regular exhibits. There are no knives with runes like the one we’re looking for, so the two of us wait until a security guard isn’t looking, then duck into the employees-only stairwell that leads to the basement and the rest of the storage.
“We’ve got to figure out how they archive--”
“Relax,” Oliver cuts me off. “It’s a treasure.”
“And?” I stare at him as if he’s lost my mind.
He closes his eyes as if he’s concentrating, holding out his hands. “I’m picturing the knife. It looked like it was etched with gold, didn’t it?”
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