Seduction (Curse of the Gods #3)

“Mine,” he grumbled. “Let’s go see the carriages.”

Siret’s eyes narrowed, and I started to realise that they were possibly all a little riled up from the fighting. I tapped on Yael’s arm, and wriggled a little until he loosened them, allowing me to stand again. We didn’t have time for a god-brother-fight, so I reached out and caught Siret’s hand, and led them both from the entrance. Aros followed behind, a small smirk on his face as though he found my intervention a little bit funny.

Outside, the pandemonium was continuing to die down as the final few stands of people fled the arena. I wondered if the sols were finally starting to re-evaluate their burning desire to become gods. I would have been thinking twice if my perfect, benevolent, wonderful gods had sent a bunch of warrior-Jeffreys down to try and wipe me out.

It didn’t matter if it had all been meant as some sort of message or punishment for me and the Abcurses. In a way, being nothing more than unimportant collateral was probably even worse.

“There they are!” I pointed toward Emmy, who was wearing a frustrated sort of expression.

She was staring at my mother, who stood before the two carts, two bullsen tethered to the front of each. I barrelled forward, dragging Siret and Yael with me, Aros keeping pace with no effort. Emmy’s head snapped up as I reached her side, and I saw her swallow hard. “Is … Donald okay?” I asked, my voice hesitating over the name.

She nodded, blinking rapidly. “Fine. Donald is perfectly content and fine and in love with Sta … the gods.”

I was the one nodding and blinking now, up and down, my movements mechanical. “Wonderful. Donald is really making someone proud.” Not us, but someone.

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her—at the face that was so familiar. Bodies pressed against me, sinking in on either side, with Aros stepping up behind me. They didn’t have to ask: they knew my pain as well as they knew me. They didn’t say a word, but when I tilted my head back to take them in, their expressions said a lot. There were flames burning in Yael’s eyes, like tiny pricks of green ember. Siret wore no smile, and for him that said everything. I couldn’t find much humour in the situation either, but I needed to continue pretending that everything was okay, otherwise I would break down completely. Just another sun-cycle in the life of Willa Knight.

Aros’s chest expanded, the scent of burning sugar drifting across to me. He seemed to be burning up or something, as heat burned from his body, radiating through my spine.

“You okay?” I asked him, his reaction the most potent.

He seemed to tear his gaze from my mother with reluctance. “Are you okay?” His voice lowered, his hand pressing into my cheek as he tilted my head back to meet his molten gaze.

I tore myself away before he could make me cry, and practically threw myself into the cart. Of course, the step was higher than I had expected, so I tripped and head-butted the bullsen instead. The beast kicked out, and if a strong grip hadn’t wrapped around my middle and yanked me back, I would have probably lost half my face to a bullsen hoof. Siret’s arms were so warm and familiar; his energy tickled against my senses in a calming way, but I didn’t allow myself to stay in his arms for long. There would be time to fall apart, but that time wasn’t now. For now, I would keep my barrier erected. I would deal with the situation at hand.

“Into the cart, Donald,” I ordered, pushing myself off the broad chest and turning with a deep breath.

“As you wish, Sacred One.”

She clambered up with ease, her gait still robotic, but capable.

“See you soon, Em,” I murmured. “Stay safe.”

She nodded, and then in a flash she wrapped her arms around me, yanking me in with her crazy strength and squeezing me too hard before she let me go and ran off toward the nearest building. Back to her job as the dweller-saviour of Blesswood.

I attempted to climb into the cart again—a hand on my butt making sure that I actually made it this time. “Thanks, Five.” I didn’t bother turning my head; I knew it was him.

Why I had chosen the same cart as my mother, I had no idea. Maybe I wanted to punish myself, because everything that had happened was because of me. Not that I had been the one to actively do this to her. That was all Staviti: the asshole who liked to play with dwellers and sols and even gods as though they meant nothing.

“Do you want to move to the other cart, Willa-toy?”

I shook my head at Yael. “No, my moth—Donald is my responsibility. I need to keep an eye on her.”

My mother was across from us, sitting upright on the seat, staring around. Siret settled in next to her as Yael sat on one side of me and Aros on the other. I was directly facing Siret, his twinkling eyes locked on my face.

“Will Staviti try and bring her back?” I asked him. “Can he just poof her out of here or something?” The whispered words rattled from my chest, my eyes flicking to my mother’s blank face.

Aros lifted his arm over the back of our bench seat, settling me in against his side. Yael had his hand on my thigh, his hold somewhere between gentle and firm. Siret was the one to answer me.

“No,” he said. “She’ll only leave if she receives an order from him, or someone who ranks higher than us. If he didn’t give her instructions to return, then she’ll wait until she gets them.”

A heavy weight dipped the cart—knocking me forward a little—followed by a second, even heavier dip.

“Coen and Rome are driving,” Aros murmured in my ear as we started to move forward. “I think you got a little carried away trying to save us, sweetheart. We only need one cart.”

He was right. The five of us fit just fine in the back, with the two biggest bodies up the front. Apparently, I hadn’t counted everyone right … but there was no point in admitting that out loud.

“It was actually a preventative measure,” I told him, as the others sat in tense silence. “I told the dweller working in the stables that I needed the carts to transport injured sols. It made more sense to ask for two.”

“Lie,” Siret muttered from the other seat. “She crinkled her nose.”

“I saw it too,” Yael added. “Definitely a lie.”

Aros grinned at me. “You were so busy saving us you overreacted a little, huh?”

I chose to ignore him, turning away from Siret as well—which left only my mother to look at. She stared at the window, oblivious to our conversation as she watched the scenery. Except … her eyes weren’t moving. She wasn’t really watching the scenery. She was simply staring. Sitting. Part-way existing. I couldn’t bring myself to look away from her, all the while wishing something else would happen as a distraction. I would have gladly dived back into a discussion about the number of carts I overcompensated with, but everyone was staying silent.

As if he’d heard my desperate mental plea, Aros tightened the arm which was still draped behind me, before spinning me to face him, finally tearing my gaze from my mother.