“Talk, Willa,” he demanded.
Maybe it was the hug, or maybe it was the small spark of pain that accompanied his words, flashing low against the base of my spine, but I suddenly wanted to tell them everything. I twitched a little bit, but mostly clamped down on my reaction to Coen’s ‘gift,’ because my reaction was to jump him, and that was hardly appropriate.
“Did you guys do something?” My voice was muffled against Coen’s chest, but I refused to turn my head and look at the other three.
“What was that?” Aros asked, moving behind me, seeming almost to gravitate toward me.
I suspected that he was attracted to the desire swirling through me right now. Yael had lit the match, Coen was deliberately stoking the fire, and Aros was the moth, drawn to the flame. I could feel him pressing against my back, his chest brushing my shoulders, his hand curving around the front of my neck. My eyes drew closed before I could stop them, and my legs were suddenly weak, my head spinning dizzily.
“She’s going to drop,” I heard Siret drawl.
Coen’s chest rumbled again, and this time, the spark of pain was somewhere in the vicinity of my chest, forcing my eyes back open and my breath to catch.
“Don’t start acting like a dweller now, Willa,” Coen mumbled.
Aros’s hand moved against my neck, applying just enough pressure to pull my head back against his chest, and then I was staring right up into Coen’s face. The green in his eyes had disappeared completely, leaving only darkness and violence. It was pitch black, closing in around me, drawing me away from the world.
“Did you all do something to save me back at the cave?” I heard my own voice, but it didn’t even feel like it was me speaking. I had drifted out of my body and into the darkness of Coen’s soul.
“No,” someone answered. Siret, I thought. “Why? What happened, Rocks?”
“Now … I need you all,” I muttered. Dual growls vibrated through me, and I quickly amended the statement. “I need to be near at least one of you. Ever since the cave. It hurts me, here …” I tried to raise my hand to my chest, but Coen and Aros must have pushed closer. Every inch of my body seemed to be plastered up against hard muscle. When I raised my arm, it only bumped against Coen’s massive chest. He refused to back up.
“Where?” Siret asked, sounding frustrated. “Guys? Seduction! Pain! Get the fuck off her so that I can concentrate.”
Aros pulled away so fast that I almost suspected him to have been yanked off by Siret, but when Coen spun me around so that I was facing the other way, Siret was still standing in the same place and Aros was striding down the hall toward his dorm room. He disappeared inside, the door slamming violently behind him.
“And then there were two.” Siret rolled his eyes.
“Two?” I muttered, looking around for Rome, who also seemed to have disappeared.
Coen’s hands were wrapping around my arms from behind, still holding me close to him.
“I’m taking her to my room,” Coen announced, ignoring my question. “Tell the others to get their shit together and meet us there. If we put some clothes on the dweller, we might actually be able to have a full conversation.”
I snorted. “The dweller can speak just fine, thanks.” Okay. I lied. That was a lie.
Coen knew it, too. He only shook his head at me, marching me toward the last door at the end of the hallway. He didn’t release me until we were inside, the door clicking shut softly behind us. I watched as he hunted through drawers, pulling out a shirt and a pair of male sleep-pants. They had been cut short for the summer season. I suspected they would have ended above the knee on Coen, but for me, they were almost a full set of pants. He handed everything to me and then jerked his head in the direction of the alcove at the other end of his bedroom. Siret’s had been full of books, but Coen’s was mostly empty. Just a rug and a chair, facing the windows. It had a door, too. I stripped off and pulled on the fresh clothes, chuckling at how ridiculous I now looked, before moving back into the main room.
“What’s so funny?” Rome asked me, his eyes flicking over me once before settling on my face. He was probably just making sure that I was finally clothed.
The others had all gathered, too. Silently and rapidly, like smoke beneath the door. It was a little bit scary.
“Nothing,” I muttered, wandering over to their group.
None of them were sitting down, but I was exhausted, so I sat on the edge of Coen’s bed, facing them all, and then I just blurted it out.
“So I feel sick and my chest hurts whenever I move away from you all. It’s really painful, like my chest is being ripped apart. When I move closer again, it gets better. With one of you touching me, it disappears altogether.”