None of them answered me. I was pretty sure they hadn’t even heard me. They were still too busy staring at my munched-on skin. The second room was full of cots set up against the wall, with a few trolleys of medical supplies stacked up against some of the beds. Aros’s hands clinched at my waist, pulling me up to one of the mattresses. When they started to crowd around again, I repeated my question, raising my voice to force them to pay attention.
“It’s one of our conditions.” Yael was the one to answer. “We need to respond to every single call to the arena. If we miss one, our sentence is automatically extended. It’s our father’s only way of keeping tabs on us properly. He doesn’t have the energy to watch us all the time, or to have us followed all the time. There are other things that require his attention.”
“But you …” Siret was standing beside Yael, the dark mud caked to his shirt and arms. “You’re only accountable to us. Not even the academy can touch you.”
“Am I though?” I held out my arms. “Kinda seems like the gods are trying out some accountability on me too.”
Aros was shaking his head. “Alright … everyone turn around.”
To my surprise, they actually obeyed him, spinning to surround my little cot, their backs and shoulders forming a guard around us. Aros curled his finger into the hem of my mud-caked dress, but before he could do anything, Siret had turned to face me again. He placed his hand on my shoulder, and my filthy dress dissolved. I blinked. He wasn’t staring at my cuts anymore—his eyes were fixed firmly on my face, the green swirling with gold, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He pulled back, turned again, and Aros invaded my space.
His left hand was against my neck, high on my collarbone. “Settle,” he muttered, as though he could feel the racing of my heart.
His right hand was sorting through the jars and containers littered along the top of the trolley. He pulled out a small tin, flicked the lid off with his thumb, and set the tin against the side of the bed, beside my thigh.
“What are you doing?” I finally asked.
Some of the shock had worn off over the fact that they were actually allowing me to be naked—or almost naked, since I was still wearing underwear—even though I was pretty sure it was for medical reasons. Either way, the shock had made way for heat. Because Aros’s hand was still heavy on my skin. Because I was partly naked. Because they were all there.
You almost got munched to death, I tried to tell myself.
“Pretty much.” Aros answered my thought as though I had spoken it aloud, and then his hand was moving toward my arm. There was some kind of clear liquid coating his fingers. “This will clean and seal your wounds. It’s going to hurt, but I’ll do my best to combat the feeling.”
“Wait,” I quickly interrupted, realising exactly what was happening. Realising why Aros was the one doing it. I was pretty sure that if he used his Seduction to distract me from the pain of whatever he was going to use to heal my cuts … well, I didn’t have very good impulse control.
I had very bad impulse control.
He paused at my command, one of his eyebrows inching up. I didn’t say anything else, and eventually, a strained chuckle filtered through the room.
“I have to heal your cuts, sweetheart. You need your cuts healed. That was only the first round. Everyone knows that the second round is harder.”
His hand was moving toward my skin again, so I quickly grabbed his wrist. I was almost naked. He was armed with Seduction. This was not a good idea! With any luck, I’d be too weak and overwhelmed to fight in any second rounds.
“Everyone doesn’t know that!” I objected. “I didn’t know that! They never taught that in school.”
“What did they teach you in school?” Rome asked. He looked uncomfortable, shifting his big frame around.
Aros flexed his arm a little, testing my grip. I wouldn’t budge.
“They taught us how to … you know … obey orders and not have original thoughts and thank the gods every time someone sneezed. That kind of stuff. Nobody ever said anything about second rounds being harder than first rounds. Never. This is my first time hearing about—”
“You’re rambling,” Aros interrupted. “I’m going to have to do this sooner or later. Minus the later.”
“He means sooner,” Coen grunted. As though I really needed clarification.
“He means now.” Rome was starting to shift around even faster. “We have no idea how many people are going to need to go through the first round before the second starts. And it’s a short round. Especially if they die before it’s over.”
“Do it,” Yael added.
“Give her a click,” Siret argued. He was usually on my side. That kind of made me love him. Just a little.
Aros pulled against my grip again, and this time I released him. He then placed a hand against my collarbone at just the right angle to block out some of my lower body from his eyes. I understood why he was doing it now. He was keeping his cool by pretending to himself that I wasn’t almost naked. He bent down, his face looming level with mine, his other hand wrapping around my ankle. As soon as the ointment touched my skin, fire rushed through me. The bad kind of fire. I made a strangled sound, but Aros caught it on a kiss, and then the burning was twofold. The good fighting against the bad. The liquid fire rushing over the dark embers. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I might have made another sound and it might have been a moan. He was spreading the stuff up my leg, to the back of my knee, and then around to my thigh. It spread so easily, like droplets of water, even though it had looked so much thicker. When his left hand slipped from my collarbone, it was to reach for the tin. I pulled my mouth away, because I didn’t want him to do my other leg. It was too much. The one leg that he had done was starting to turn numb, and there was a sick feeling stirring in my stomach.
There was also a lust feeling stirring in my stomach, but they were as strong as each other.
“Not working?” Aros muttered against my lips, and the tin dropped into my lap.
His mouth took mine again, harder this time, and the good fire finally overtook the bad. I floated into bliss, even when my other leg began to go numb. Even when he pulled both of my legs around his hips and dragged me right to the edge of the cot. Even when his hands slid up my arms and settled around my neck. It was the same hold as before, but with both hands there wasn’t enough surface area for him to lay his palms flat. The heels of his hands pressed against the tops of my breasts and his fingers dug into the line of my shoulder.
Someone said something, but I didn’t hear what it was. Pins and needles were rushing through my legs, and I tightened them reflexively. Suddenly, Aros was everywhere. His hands on my skin, his body pressed up against mine, his heat reaching some place deep inside me. He tasted sweet, but dark at the same time. The way his tongue stroked against mine wasn’t sweet, it was downright intentional, as though he knew that all he needed to do was kiss me this way for one more click and I’d be naked beneath him.