Strength (Curse of the Gods #4)(39)

“He does?” Rome was blinking, getting a little side-tracked by my assessment of Cyrus.

“He does now.” I shrugged. “So, we’re cool then? No big deal? No Willa, what are you doing? Or Willa, you’re in trouble.” I said the last part with a deep grumble in my voice—a poor imitation of any of them.

“Why would you be in trouble for something Cyrus is forcing you to do?” Siret asked, a smile stretching across his face.

“But yes, you’re in trouble,” Rome added, toneless.

I threw my hands up with a groan, spinning around just in time to catch Emmy’s smirk.

“Not okay,” I told her, wagging my finger in her face. “Not. Okay. You’re supposed to be on my team.”

“I think you have enough people on your team.” She arched her brows, grinning at me. It was good to see her loosening up a little, even if it was at my expense.

“Why am I in trouble?” I asked Rome, pushing past them to get into the room. The walls were still destroyed. “And why did you smash your way through everybody’s bedrooms?” I paused, a few steps into the room. Something was missing. I frowned, turning to face them all again. “And where the hell is the bed?”

To my complete and utter astonishment, colour seemed to rise in Rome’s face. He glanced down at the ground, grumbling something in a moody voice. I just blinked at him, before turning my eyes to the others. Aros moved toward me slowly, as though afraid I would jump away from them again. When I didn’t move, his fingers quickly threaded through mine. His golden eyes glimmered at me, holding some kind of delicious secret.

“Come, look.” His voice was low, sending a reaction through my body and rendering me momentarily unable to walk. He had to tug me into motion.

He brought me to the wall and then helped me through the rubble, into the next bedroom. The bed was also missing from that room and the next wall had been similarly demolished. The only difference in this room was that the demolished wall had a set of sheets strung up to the ceiling, hiding the next room from view. Aros led me to the makeshift curtain, pausing before drawing it back. Instinctively, I glanced over my shoulder. The other four guys were following us, but Emmy wasn’t, which made me want to laugh. Even Emmy knew better than to follow the six of us into a bedroom. We weren’t exactly afraid of showing our affection for each other. If anything, we seemed afraid of not showing our affection for each other. There was an urgency between us, a fierce need to claim each other, as though something would try to rip us apart at any moment.

When the curtain fluttered back into place, sealing us in there together, I walked towards the beds. It was a little hard to tell how many had been pushed up against each other, because the snowy, fluffy blankets covering them were strewn about in all directions, as were the pillows.

“Is it okay?” one of them asked from behind me.

I was tearing up and I wasn’t sure why. I was happy, almost ecstatic, and there was a warmth inside my chest growing hot enough to burn all the way through my body. Oh, that’s why I was tearing up. It was because there was a fire in my chest, not because I was a complete wuss. I was reacting to the chest pains, not weeping over a romantic gesture. I was Willa Knight, badass extraordinaire, Undead Soldier. I didn’t weep at romantic gestures.

“Thank you,” I choked out—choked, because of the chest pain, not because of any kind of wussy emotions.

“She’s obsessing,” Siret remarked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Keeps calling herself a wuss,” Yael added, shaking his head.

“Would a wuss do this?” I snapped, striding up to him and grabbing his face.

His eyes flashed and he leaned in, as though to kiss me, but I grinned and let go of his face, sending my fist into his stomach.

He laughed, while I hopped around in pain.

Like a wuss.

“So you do like it?” Coen asked, appearing just a little bit concerned. “The new room?”

“I love it.” I grabbed Yael again, pulling him into a hug. He was still chuckling, but he hoisted me up and plastered me against his chest, ceasing his laughter as he nuzzled his face into my neck. When he set me down, I went to Coen, raising my arms for a hug. A smile broke through his worried expression and he pulled me in against his body, his thick arms surrounding me. I hugged the rest of them in turn, but had barely wrapped myself around Aros before there was a knock on the wall between this room and the next bedroom. Not that any of the other rooms were really bedrooms anymore.

“Willa?” It was Emmy. She sounded apprehensive. “There are some ... um ... people waiting outside. For the Abcurses. Some sols. Their sols. For the training ... you know, the whole reason we’re all here and everything. They said the guys weren’t in the breakfast room this morning to give them their assignments so they came up here.”

Aros let out a frustrated, growling sound before releasing me. The five of them strode to the curtain, Coen jerking it aside. Emmy jumped away from it and then scurried back into the other room without another word. I heard the door slam as she escaped to the corridor beyond. I didn’t blame her—she already had to deal with Cyrus on a regular basis now, she was learning to pick her battles. Coen was stalking after her. Rome, Yael and Siret followed. Aros took my hand again as we trailed behind, but I paused at the curtain, turning to take in the room one more time.