I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling somewhat exposed, even though I was literally covered from throat to feet. I finally understood what Willa had been talking about though: the robes were extremely comfortable. The material was silky and light, brushing across my body. Wait …was I wearing underwear?
There was no way I could have a Willa moment in front of the Asshole of Topia. I needed to assess that situation as soon as it was safe to do so.
“I’m going to give you to the count of three,” I said slowly, without inflection. “Take. Me. To. Willa. If you do not take me to Willa by the time I hit three, I will—”
My words were cut off by his lips. He had moved so fast that I didn’t even see it coming—or maybe I didn’t want to see it, since I was trying very hard not to look at him closely. All breath whooshed out of me as our bodies crashed together: his so strong and hard, and mine completely disloyal as it moulded against him. On instinct, I went onto my tiptoes, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling myself closer.
The only other kiss to ever rock me was Atti’s, and while I had enjoyed kissing Atti very much … kissing Cyrus was different.
It was soul destroying.
A part of me would always mourn Atti. He was my perfect match in so many ways. We had been comfortable. We had fit together. I tried to remember that comfortable, familiar feeling as Cyrus kissed me into oblivion, but it was slipping away from me faster that I could grasp it.
“I’m so fucking angry at you,” he murmured against my lips.
I pulled back, shaking my head as I planted a hand against his chest, as though that would keep him from kissing me again.
“You’re mad at me? I’m so shocked. What did I do this time?” My sarcastic drawl had his forehead creasing, his eyes turning even stormier.
He jerked me a little harder against him, and my body ached—in the best kind of way. “You put yourself in a position to be used by Staviti. To be hurt. To be killed. You brought attention to yourself. You made the gods aware of you.”
I growled then, struggling to free myself. “I did none of those things. I have always been the perfect dweller. The Abcurses brought Willa into this world, and where she goes, I go. So this is all on the gods. This istheirfault!”
I placed both of my hands on his chest now and shoved with all of my might. “Now take me to my sister or I will make your eternal life a living hell.”
He made a noise that had every hair on my arms standing on end. Cyrus could be scary when he Neutraled out. He stepped away from me and as he spun to head toward his bedroom, it sounded like he saidyou already are. But I must have misheard him. I wasn’tinhis life enough to make it a living hell. Well, except for being a dead person in his bed for a little while and walking in on his bathing time.
When he was gone, I realised that Donald was still in the room. She was standing in the corner, staring at the floor. I’d completely forgotten about her as Cyrus stole all of my attention. He had a way of doing that. As I stepped closer to her, I pushed down the small pang in my chest. The practical side of me knew that this was no longer Willa’s mum … or my adoptive mother, but it was hard to believe that when she was just standing there with her wild blond hair and vacant expression. She looked just the same as she always had. She’d been a mess of a dweller in real life, and now she was a mess of a server. Willa had told me about the cart transporting dweller bodies past the seventh ring, where they were made into Topian servers. She had also mentioned hearing something about there being requirements to become a server. It would make sense, seeing how Donald acted now. If the dwellers had boasted undesirable characteristics in their previous life, they were probably disqualified from becoming servers. It didn’t surprise me that Staviti had forgotten all about Donald after creating her and sending her back to Willa. She had been a message, a threat.
Don’t mess with me.
She was never supposed to be an actual server.
“Donald, why did you say that I’m a god?” I asked her gently.
I had no idea why I bothered. She was definitely malfunctioning again, and yet … I couldn’t just let it go. She had suggested it; I needed to know why. Even when she malfunctioned, there was still a reason behind the things she did and said.
“You are a god now, Sacred One. Sacred Willa used her sacred gifts, and now you are a Sacred One.”
“It’s … that isn’t possible,” I argued, even though a tiny spark in the back of my mind spluttered with hope. Iwantedto believe her. “Dwellers don’t become gods. This is a fact. I know my facts, Donald. I can tell you all about facts.”
Cyrus’s low chuckle had me spinning around. A relieved sigh left me when I found him fully dressed in his signature white robes. “You do have a remarkable grasp on a seemingly endless supply of mostly useless dweller facts, Emmanuelle … but in this instance, Donald is correct. You are a god now. And dwellersdobecome gods. Your sister is one of them, or have you forgotten already?”
I let out a growl. “You better be kidding me. I refuse to be a god. I am not one of you evil, selfish bastards.”
Cyrus strode closer and it took everything inside of me not to back away from him. Whenever he got too close, my brain fried, and I needed to stay in control.
“You’re a god, bug. I didn’t dress you in those robes. They formed around your body as you healed. You were brought back from death and transformed into something else, but I don’t know what you were transformed into because these robes are unlike any colour I’ve ever seen.”
“What?” I gasped out, combing through everything he had just said for any hidden clues or evidence that we might have missed.
I wanted to believe him and I didn’t want to believe him in equal measures. I had been happy as a dweller, happy to fight for a better place in the worldasa dweller … but I couldn’t deny that something fundamental had changed inside me. Something was drastically different. If Donald and Neutral were right, and I was a god …
What sort of god was I?
