Seduction (Curse of the Gods #3)(63)

“Close your eyes,” he said, and I immediately obeyed, caught up by him.

He wasn’t blasting me full-force with his power, but he was certainly slipping me low, intermittent doses. A few more pressed kisses, the final one ending at the corner of my mouth and I became completely boneless.

Another hand joined Aros’s at my back, and I knew from the possessive way it hooked into the dip of my waist that it was Yael. No doubt I should have been embarrassed by what they were doing in front of my mother, but I knew they wouldn’t take it too far, and I needed the contact. The distraction.

Or … maybe I was just a terrible decision maker, and they brought out the unthinking worst in me.

Yael’s hand hooked in tighter, tugging on me, and Aros released me almost without a fight. They were working together, for me, because I needed them.

“Relax, Rocks.” Yael’s rich voice slid over my skin, and unlike Aros, he was hitting me hard with his gift.

Darkness hovered on the edge of my vision, and even though I could have attempted to fight it—I wasn’t that far gone yet—I didn’t want to. I wanted to give in to them. I wanted them to look after me, even if it was just this once and I had to spend the rest of my life pretending to rescue them.

Just this once …

Arms tightened around me, and then his persuasive voice filled my head.

“Sleep, Willa-toy.”





The rhythmic movement of the cart stopping was the first thing my subconscious registered, and I didn’t linger any longer in my escape. It was time to face the music. My face felt a little numb, like it had been pressed to a hard surface for a long time, and when I finally pried my eyes open, I realised why. I was still on Yael’s lap, his arms banded tightly around me, my face pressed into his chest.

“You drool,” he said.

“And snore,” Siret added.

“Do not,” I protested, my voice a little raspy. “I sleep with you guys all the time. You can’t try telling me that now.”

I lifted my head from the soft material of Yael’s shirt, which did appear to have a small wet patch on it.

Whoops.

“Learn something new every sun-cycle,” I allowed.

They chuckled, and I looked around for my mother. She wasn’t there.

“What happened while I was asleep?” I asked, swallowing down the panic at having her out of my sight. “Where’s my mothe—Donald?”

“Why do you keep calling her Donald?” Siret asked me. “That is just a stupid server name that Staviti randomly picked.”

“I … don’t want to hear her correcting me,” I choked out.

I stumbled up off Yael’s lap, my legs wobbling under me as I tried to get the blood pumping through them.

Siret was watching me closely, his expression hard to read. “We’re stopping here for the night. The bullsen need to be watered and rested,” he finally said, when I got my footing.

“Just like the dweller,” Yael added with a smirk.

I punched him in the arm, mostly because I tripped while trying to slap him, but it all worked out in the end. He just grinned, before palming either side of my waist, and setting me firmly on my feet.

“Sacred One!” The unfamiliar mechanical gasp had me spinning around, until I remembered that my mother now sounded … mechanical.

I moved toward the doorway of the cart, trying to see what was going on. I still couldn’t see her, but at least I could hear her.

“Yes?” I finally asked, a dose of caution in my tone.

“Sacred Staviti has asked me to report all acts of violence perpetrated against you. This will not be tolerated. He does not like bleeding on his rugs. Or his artefacts.”

“Just a love tap, right Willa?” Yael’s grin got broader, if that was even possible.

I narrowed my eyes, judging the distance as I tried to figure out if I could love tap his face. Harder, this time. More like a love-punch. A love-black-eye-and-possible-broken-nose.

“This is what happens when soldiers become heroes,” Siret announced to the group, as though we had all gathered just to hear his opinion. “The power goes to their heads; suddenly, they’re changed; suddenly, they start beating up their—what would you call us?”

He directed that question to me. “We’re not your friends, so you have to pick a different word. Maybe … boyfr—”

“Princesses,” I inserted.

“Not where he was heading with that,” Yael inserted blandly. “But go ahead and explain.”

“If I have to run after you five, rescuing you all the time—that makes you the princesses in the story.”

“When you finally get around to rescuing us, we’ll revisit nicknames.” Yael smirked at me.

I prepared to launch myself at him, but Siret materialised right in front of my face, bending over to fit in the back of the cart. “Come on, Soldier.” He was trying not to smile. “No time for more violence. Besides, you don’t want to break a Staviti rule, right Donald?”

“Correct, Sacred One.”

Irony didn’t register with the servers, but it registered with me, and I appreciated it. No one broke more rules than the Abcurses. I took two steps toward the exit, only stopping because my mother’s head was still poking through—that mess of blonde hair taking up a lot of space.