Seduction (Curse of the Gods #3)

“I have set the cave up for you,” my mother said, standing off to the side. “As requested.”

I levelled a glare at Siret, then Yael, and finally Aros. “Stop ordering her around. She is not our server.”

I didn’t care if she gasped like all the other servers and used all the proper nouns like all the other servers. Whatever Staviti did to make her this way didn’t matter—she was still my mother. A sharp sting of pain travelled up to my head, and I quickly shook the thought away. I couldn’t dwell on it right now—Yael wouldn’t be able to use his Persuasion on me every time the pain got too much, so it was better if I just focused on what we had to do.

“Can you please show us this cave?” I did my best to make that sound like a request, and not an order.

My mother’s spine was suddenly ramrod straight, a sense of purpose filling that blank face. “Of course, Sacred One. It is my honour.”

“Can you call me Willa?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them. It was a stupid thing to ask, because I knew the servers were programmed, and they would never call me just Willa. And sure enough.

Gasp. Mouth open. Hand flapping.

“No worries,” I said with a wave. “Sacred One is fine.”

Donald calmed herself then, before spinning around and marching off into the woods. I hurried after her. The boys moved a little slower, but stayed close. Donald was heading for the shadows, and within a click or two, the distinct shape of two more of my Abcurses came into sight. They looked to be arguing at the entrance of the cave. I strained to hear what they were saying, but the sound of rushing water nearby muffled the conversation. By the time we were close enough, they had quit whatever they were doing, instead turning to watch us approach.

I sensed their eyes on me, and I wanted nothing more than to drown in those stares. But I couldn’t. The Abcurses made me feel too much, they always had. They penetrated the bubble I had lived most of my life in, the bubble that protected me from any kind of emotional overload. Because life was hard. Really hard. I dealt with it in my own way, but I still felt the pain of it.

I always had. Over the life-cycles I had developed a pretty useful shielding technique … only that shielding was pretty much fucked now. Fucked, because five beautiful, arrogant, asshole-gods had fallen into my life, and I was pretty sure they crushed my shield on their way down. Best sun-cycle of my life, really. But now, with my mother, I was desperate for that shielding to return. I needed it. I wasn’t going to survive this otherwise.

“Dweller-baby?” Coen’s concern hit me in the chest; I forced a smile to my face.

“Yes, One?”

“Are you ok—”

“Fine, no worries at all. Got any food? This dweller needs to be fed and watered.”

The silence after I interrupted was heavy, but no one pushed me again, so I just strolled into the cave. My mother said that we were sleeping in the cave, and sure enough, inside, a fire was blazing in a natural fire pit near the entrance, and there were some blankets and coats laid out in makeshift beds. I had no idea how she’d managed to get them there, but it probably also wasn’t that big of a mystery. No doubt, the carts had an emergency storage of camping supplies in the event of broken wheels or flooding. Even though I’d slept most of the journey there—wherever there was—a deep-seated exhaustion was tugging at my centre. Pulling me down and making my thoughts hazy.

A sliver of my brain was aware that it was likely grief, an exhausting sort of emotion, but I ignored that part and pretended to just be tired. The Abcurses filed in one by one, each picking a spot on the floor, their long legs spread out in front of them as they rested back against their arms. Donald remained standing near the entrance, keeping an eye on everything. No doubt waiting for an order.

The silence felt … tense. Unnatural. No one really knew what to say or how to put into words everything that had just happened. Eventually, though, I couldn’t handle one more moment, so I had to talk.

“What are we supposed to do now?” I asked. “Staviti … he’s not going to stop until I go to him.” My eyes darted to my mother. “He’s not going to stop hurting people I care about.”

Panic froze my vocal cords, before I managed to force a single word out. “Emmy.”

Why didn’t I insist that she come along, I mean … my mother was one thing, but Emmy was so much more. I couldn’t survive losing her.

A male voice cut through my freezing terror. “I’m keeping an eye on Emmy; she’s fine.”





Sixteen





The voice didn’t belong to any of my guys, and by the time I turned my head, Rome and Coen were on their feet, both of them blocking Cyrus from entering the cave. I stood, unable to see him through their bulk, but I needed answers, so I made to push through Rome and Coen. They both caught each of my hands at the same time.

“We can’t trust any of the gods right now,” Coen said, his voice terse.

I swallowed roughly. “I need to hear what he has to say.”

“You can hear from right there,” Rome countered.

With a loud exhalation, I stopped trying to move forward, and stopped attempting to pull my hands free. If I was being honest, I kind of needed the support anyway. Cyrus was relaxed, standing with ease; his bright eyes observing us all closely in the same calm and unaffected manner that he usually displayed. The disconcerting expression made me uncomfortable, and I didn’t even know why.

“Why are you keeping an eye on Emmy?” I asked.

He shrugged, his white robe lifting and shifting across broad shoulders. “I have a theory about how all of this plays out. I’m not going to ruin that by letting the dweller die.”

That made … no sense. Asshole.

Siret let out a low laugh from behind me, and I knew that my thought had been heard.

For now, I’d accept that Emmy was under Cyrus’s watch, and when he changed his mind about that—which no doubt he would—then we would deal with it accordingly.

“Why are you here, Neutral?” Aros bit out. He had moved close to my back, working with Rome and Coen to close me in.

Cyrus stepped to the side, revealing a crate sitting at the entrance to the cave behind him. It was made from wood and a golden, glittery metal: it was finer and more ornate than any storage crate I’d ever seen.

“I heard about what happened in the Sacred Sands Arena,” he announced. “Thought I would drop off some supplies and information.”

“Information first,” Yael demanded.

He was his usual, bossy self again, and there wasn’t a hint of the worry in his voice that I was sure he felt. I knew him well enough now to see the tension in his tight jaw and the muscles in his arms that were starting to stand out starkly against the dark tan of his skin.

Cyrus’s eyes flashed and his own casual geniality disappeared. “Staviti wants Willa. He is not going to stop until he gets her, and he doesn’t care how many dwellers and sols he has to destroy to make it happen.”