“I didn’t mean whatever I said that was wrong. I clearly said something wrong, because you have your scary face on. I also didn’t mean to almost faint. That was an accident. I take it back.”
The scary expression he was wearing didn’t lift and he didn’t speak until we were back in his room and the rest of the guys had joined us. I was back on my feet now, and as always, I found myself drifting across to my little space. I liked to check on my things. I’d never had things which just stayed put and weren’t sold off by a drunk mother. Just as I stepped in closer to my shelves, I let out a bit of a yelp, and then there were five massive bodies crowded around me.
“Rocks?” Siret questioned, his head swivelling to take in the space.
“Where the hell is my bed?” I demanded, jabbing my fingers toward the space where I had made them drag a mattress. Yes, it had been a piece of crap one from my bed in the dwellers’ dorms, but it was mine and I didn’t like my stuff disappearing.
Yael shook his head, his massive body seeming to relax from whatever raised arm position he had been in. His fighter pose. “We had it thrown out.”
“You … had it thrown out? What the hell is wrong with you all? Where am I going to sleep?”
My eyes dropped to the floor, which admittedly had a nice thick rug on it. It was probably softer than that mattress anyway.
I’d been so busy trying to work out my next bed that I’d missed whatever Yael had just said. Half of the sentence registered with me, though, and I spun around to blink stupidly at him.
“What did you say?” I asked.
He took a step closer to me, one of his hands curving around the back of my neck as he pulled me into his body. “I said, Willa-toy, that we don’t trust you to sleep on your own any longer. You’re just too good at getting into trouble. Especially with Karyn’s abilities, and now there’s a chance the Original Gods might be watching you. You’ll sleep with one of us every night.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I growled. “You expect me to believe that you five got rid of my mattress in the three clicks it took us to get back here? Seriously?”
I tried moving my head to see the others, but Yael tightened his grip on my neck, keeping my attention on him. His jaw was set, his eyes heavy on my face, a storm rolling over his expression.
He wasn’t going to answer me.
“Which one of you will I stay with?” I finally managed to ask, tearing my eyes away from Yael in an attempt to see the others again. I caught sight of Aros and Rome, both wearing a look of pain, as though sharing their beds with me was a horrible chore they needed to complete.
Before I could narrow my eyes and say something like, you all suck, I don’t even want to sleep in your really soft, cloud like god beds, Coen answered my question. “Probably a schedule will work best, you can rotate between the five of us. Normally I’d say you can choose and it won’t be a problem, but for Yael … it would definitely be a problem.”
Yael shrugged, drawing my attention back again. “Only a problem if she doesn’t choose me—which she would, because I would make her choose me.”
I jabbed him hard in the chest, something I found myself doing to this particular Abcurse a lot. His eyes turned cloudy again, brimming with darkness and turning the usual mossy green of his gaze into something frightening.
“No using your powers on me, Four,” I warned, my voice a little shaky. “If you do, I’ll choose you to sleep next to, and then I’ll accidentally-on-purpose stab you while you sleep.”
He wrapped his hand around my finger, and when I tried to pull my hand back, he kept it tightly pressed against his chest. He then lowered his head so our lips were inches apart. His voice was like a silken caress as he whispered, “You’d never stab me on purpose. You like me, Rocks. You like us all.”
Arrogant son of a god.
Deciding that two could play this same game, I locked my eyes on his and opened my mouth to speak but somehow my brain got confused and instead I pressed my lips to his. Somehow I always ended up kissing Yael. His competitive arrogance was so annoying, and this was the only way to shut him up.
Yes, that was my story.
I expected him to growl, push me away, and storm from the room. That was pretty much my experience with kisses and Abcurses. Instead, he resisted for a micro-click, and just when I expected him to pull away, he pressed closer. My lips parted and his tongue slid inside, caressing my own. Holy Topia. My knees buckled slightly as my head started to spin. Nothing else touched between us except his fingers still wrapped tightly along the back of my neck, and our hands, which were still pressed against his chest.
It was almost sweet. Until he made a sound in his throat and my body tipped forward into his.
“Enough!” This was from Rome, and only a voice as booming as his could have broken through my haze of sudden need.
I almost buckled as the pressure from Yael’s mouth lessened, and he stepped back from me, his hands reluctant to drop away. My body trembled as I wrapped my arms around myself. Somehow, angry words were slipping past my lips and I was glaring at the other four.
“This pact is stupid,” I declared. “You five are stupid. I’m sleeping in my wallowing cave.”
It looked like I would be the one storming out this sun-cycle. I made it five steps before my shaky legs managed to find something on the floor, and I tripped. I refused to fall on my face in front of them, so with pure force of will, I managed to stay on my feet long enough to careen across the room, before face-planting on Coen’s bed.
There was a beat of dead silence, and then the room erupted with laughter and curses.
“Probably should have made sure she had a shirt and pants on,” I heard Aros say, sounding like the only one who wasn’t laughing.
I contemplated just remaining face down until they all disappeared, but I could feel a cool breeze across my butt—which was at least partially covered by underwear—so I rolled over. Coen’s bed was so soft and I’d had a rough night already, so I decided just to rest where I was for a few clicks. I mean, I was definitely going to my wallowing cave … soon.
“Looks like you get Willa tonight, Pain,” Siret said as he strolled past. I wanted to lift my head and glare at him, but I was too comfortable.
The rest of them left and then it was just me and Coen. I let myself drift off to the sounds of him rustling about the room, until I felt my body being lifted from the end of his colossal bed. He slid me in under the covers, and I started to protest half-heartedly.
“I need to go to my cleaning cupboard, or my room. You guys don’t want to babysit me like this. I saw your faces.”
My eyes were closed as I murmured, exhaustion pulling me under. I felt a warm hand brush my hair back, and it sounded like he said, “You’re wrong, Willa.”
What I was wrong about I never found out because sleep claimed me in an instant. Most nights I was a bit of a rough sleeper, I tossed and turned, waking myself multiple times. Often I had huge periods of wakefulness where I could do nothing but pace around trying not to disturb Emmy.
That night, though, I didn’t move. I was pretty sure I didn’t even roll over once. When I woke in the morning I was surprised to open my eyes and see the mounds of soft white bedding around me.
What the …
I tried to sit upright in a rush, realising I was still in Coen’s bed, but a heavy weight was pressed across me, keeping me anchored to the bed.
Tilting my head to try and see what held me captive, my heart stopped beating … it was an arm. Bronzed, heavily muscled, and draped right across my stomach. My heart rate kicked back in then as heat swept across my body. I’d never slept in a bed with anyone other than Emmy and my mother. I’d never spent the entire night snuggled up to a god. I expected it to feel really weird and awkward, but it didn’t. My pulse was going crazy but that was because Coen was insanely hot, he was shirtless, and I could feel his skin pressed all along my right side.
Turning my head to the right, I
found him asleep, facing me. Oh my. After a few clicks I realised I was just staring at him. At the thick dark lashes that washed across his cheeks, his full lips, and the way his chest rose and fell as he breathed. What were they doing to me? It was like I couldn’t breathe without them and yet I couldn’t breathe with them either. They literally stole all the air from around me, and I didn’t like that.
With a shake of my head, I rolled over, turning my back on him so that I could stare out into the murky landscape beyond the glassed windows. I loved seeing the wash of colours, the greens of the countryside, the blues of the sky. The longer I remained snuggled into the bed with Coen, the more my body relaxed. I was so relaxed I didn’t even realise that he had woken up.
His arm tightened around me and I was pulled back even further into him. I let a weird moaning noise slip out, and suddenly Coen’s muscles went rigid. Knowing I needed to expect his rejection, I mentally started preparing myself. I waited to be thrust away. Waited for him to distance us.
I must have closed my eyes at some point, so when the first tingle of his Pain slipped up my side, they flew open and I knew I was wide-eyed and slack jawed as I turned to face him. Just kill me now. He was staring at me, heavy lidded, hair tousled from sleep, and looking far, far too good for my poor dweller heart.
“My power likes you.” That voice, all husky from sleep, somehow increased the intensity of his touch and I almost arched off the bed as the sparks spread. I started to pant a little as I replied.
“I like your power too, but … this … seems.” My eyes rolled back in my head as I gripped the bedding to try and steady myself. “Pact!” I burst out.
His eyes had a lot of darkness in them at the moment, the green almost disappearing behind black, but at my mention of their pact, slivers of green bled back in. The pleasure-pain lightened until all I could feel was his hand on my bare stomach. Somehow my shirt had worked its way up. My breathing was still embarrassingly loud and ragged, it took me about three clicks to calm myself enough to act normal.
Coen gave me a slow grin as I faced him fully, both of us still in the bed, covers pulled across our bodies. We didn’t touch any longer, but there was no more than a few inches of space separating us. “Sorry, dweller-baby, sometimes I forget that you’re so breakable.”
I shook my head, hair flying around everywhere. It must have come out of its tie at some point through the night. “This world has been trying to break me for eighteen life-cycles. I’m not that breakable.”
I leaned in closer, needing to touch him again, but before I could, he was up and out of the bed. For the first time, I got a good view of his body, clad only in a pair of soft sleep shorts. Holy crap … the twins were beyond huge, bigger even than all the gods I had seen. This morning Coen was tense, which for some reason made each of his muscles pop out a little more. I followed his abdomen down, taking in each muscled ridge before his pants cut off my view.
“Willa.” That one growl sounded a lot like a warning. He reached out and snagged a shirt, pulling it on.
I actually pouted when he was covered, and a smile tilted up one corner of his lips. “You test my control, Willa. Which is something I have spent many life-cycles developing. One little dweller is going to be the one to completely undo us.”
I kind of liked that. Liked that I could be the one to make a difference to the Abcurses. To affect them more than any other. I knew they were old, they were almost as old as the Original Gods, and no doubt in those life-cycles they had loved and lost. Maybe they even …
I was up and standing on the bed as questions burst from me. “Can you five have kids? A little monster set of your own? Are you like the other gods in that way? Wasn’t it a rule that Staviti’s Original Gods couldn’t pair up together? Didn’t someone tell me that?”
Our association was new, this life was new, and it was probably too soon to ask them these personal questions, but for some reason I needed to know. What if they had loved other women? Maybe they had god-girls back in Topia, just waiting for them, hating that they’d have a soul-damaged dweller who had to tag along at all times. But they weren’t allowed to have women, right? Or maybe they were allowed to have women, but they weren’t allowed to get married.
If I had listened in class back in the seventh ring, would I already know these things?
Did they teach anything about the god’s sex lives in schools?
Coen’s expression didn’t change. He took a step back from the bed, and then another. His eyes didn’t shift from me, but he bent down and dug his hand into a drawer, coming back and handing me a bunch of fabric. I took it from him, shaking it out to reveal yet another pair of stretchy sleep-shorts. It was my staple outfit, now. I deliberately set it aside, because it was time I begged Siret for another change of proper clothes—either that, or I could beg Emmy for some hand-me-downs. Maybe I should start calling in those wishes I apparently had. Asking the guys for things that I needed.
“Put them on.” Coen had his eyes still fixed on my face, but he was suddenly standing right in front of me.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that he hadn’t answered my questions about babies and women, but it felt like a bad idea to push him for answers right then. He leaned over me, snatching the shorts off the bed and stuffing them back into my hand. He had his scary face on, but I wasn’t paying attention because said scary face was only an inch away from mine, and my body was choosing that moment to remember exactly how I had woken up.
“When you five idiots gave me the sex talk, you only said that I couldn’t walk around naked.” I was inching my knees forward as I spoke, trying to bring our bodies closer. “Not that I couldn’t walk around without pants on.”
My arm brushed his, the first point of contact between us since he had jumped from the bed, and the ever-constant pain inside my chest disappeared altogether. It was completely unfair that the only time I ever really had the potential of a clear head anymore was when one of them was touching me—which essentially ruined every moment of clear-headedness. Because when they touched me, a whole other sensation took over my body. Pain in a different way.
“Willa,” he warned quietly.
“One,” I warned right back. I mean, yeah, I was bluffing. But he didn’t know that—at least I was pretty sure that he wouldn’t know that, unless he was reading my mind.
He smiled at me then, a chilling twist of the lips, and then his hands were on my shoulders, pushing me back to the bed without warning. I hit the mattress with a bounce, and Coen loomed above me, his eyes burning. I thought maybe he was going to kiss me, or possibly smother me with a blanket until I couldn’t challenge him anymore.
Until he ducked down, and I felt the shorts sliding up my legs.
“One!” I made a somewhat embarrassing squealing noise and attempted to kick him off, which resulted in my toes almost breaking. I could have sworn I even heard him rumble with a laugh.
I bucked my hips up, somehow managing to knock myself into him, and he fell on top of me. I didn’t even get any time to appreciate the feeling of an Abcurse draped all over me before the door opened, and I heard Aros’s voice.
“This better not be exactly what it looks like,” he declared sharply.
I turned to the side, my eyes catching onto his. “Well that depends. What does it look like?”
Coen had his face buried in my neck, and this time he did rumble with a laugh.
“It looks like my brother is between your legs,” Aros replied, his eyes turning into golden fire.
I flexed my thighs, and sure enough, there was a heck of a lot of muscled torso between my legs. “Alright,” I relented. “No illusions there.”
“And …” Aros wasn’t stopping there. He stepped forward, letting the door fall closed behind him. “It looks like he’s taking your pants off.” The last word rolled off on a growl, and I tightened my legs again instinctively.
Coen shifted back an inch, and that was when I realised his hands were on my thighs, a few inches below m
y hips, and the waistband of the shorts was resting halfway over his fingers. He must have released them after he fell. I could feel his eyes on my face as he pulled away. He wasn’t even paying attention to Aros. He was enjoying the heat that was starting to bloom over my face, and the panic that was beginning to trip into my chest.
“Well now you’re wrong about that,” I quickly stated, as Coen moved his hands, slipping the shorts down an inch. “Until now,” I added dryly.
Coen laughed again, and Aros shot forward, grabbing his shoulder and hauling him back.
“Pact!” Aros shouted, as Coen fell to the side, dragging the shorts halfway back down my legs as he went.
I quickly jumped up, the shorts now hanging around my knees as I shuffled between Coen and Aros, holding up my hands up in a warning gesture. It wasn’t a good idea to jump in between them when they were fighting, but maybe if I got in there early enough I’d be able to prevent the fight from breaking out in the first place.
“It was my fault,” I said, trying to catch Aros’s eye again—since he was now glaring at Coen. “I was being a bad girl-brother.”
Aros rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, and then brought them back down to me. “Please tell me you didn’t just say that.”
“Listen, Three, you can have honesty, or you can have what you want to hear. Choose, dammit.”
“I’m angry at you, Rocks, not the other way around.”
“I can be angry too!” I tossed my arms up, frustration coursing through me. I was angry, but I was also glad that the focus had been shifted from what Aros had walked in on. Until I opened my mouth and accidently brought it right back into the center of attention. “Why are you angry anyway? I remember the pact pretty distinctly, you know. I remember the rules. The rules said nothing about being between my legs, just about being inside my vag—”
Persuasion (Curse of the Gods Book 2) Page 11
