“You came back from the imprisonment realm.” Coen finally spoke, and one of Aros’s hands slipped from my face just as Coen’s hand rose, warming the briefly exposed skin.
Standing side by side, each of them with a hand cupping my face and their eyes looking down at me with astonished, adoring expressions, it was easy to fall in love with Aros and Coen all over again. The others weren’t going to be outdone, though.
“And you brought a piece of your mother back with you,” Yael added, the persuasive ring of his tone somehow forcing his brothers to part and make room for him. Their hands dropped from my face, but Yael’s palms were quickly warming the outsides of my arms as they slipped up to my shoulders, his head ducking down to fix me with bright green eyes.
“And then you brought your sister back from the dead,” Rome grunted, almost begrudgingly. He didn’t want to be the last person to apologise to me, but from the flash of regret in his eyes when he shouldered Yael to the side, I could tell that he couldn’t wait any longer.
Yael’s jaw clenched, but Aros’s hand fell on his shoulder, the touch reassuring. Yael relaxed a little, and I threw my arms around Rome’s neck. He breathed out a surprised breath, his arms wrapping around me. I squeaked out a sound at the sudden strength in his embrace. My entire middle felt constricted, pressed inward, my breath tight. Strength leaked from his limbs, surrounding me. Several moon-cycles ago, I would have panicked. Several moon-cycles ago, I might have even punctured a major organ. Now, however, I only squirmed. I squirmed to get closer, to move against the firm muscles of the body I was being crushed against, to savour the way his body was embedding itself into mine.
Behind me, Siret took a small step closer. I reached back, catching a handful of his robe and pulling him more firmly against my spine. His hand landed on my hip, his breath warm against the top of my head.
“Are we okay?” I asked, one hand latched onto Rome’s shoulder and the other tangled in Siret’s robe.
“Almost,” a voice replied.
We broke apart, turning to look at the figure in the doorway. A man stood in the opening, his long hair dreadlocked and falling about his chest. His eyes were an earthy brown, somehow both deep and luminous at once. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, only an animal skin tied about his hips above soft brown leather pants and leather boots. Several leather ties and pouches were secured along a strap that ran diagonally along the length of his bare chest.
“Terrance,” Coen snapped. “How did you get in here?”
I wracked my brain, the name sounding familiar. He was obviously a god, but I couldn’t remember what he was a godof. I wasn’t surprised when the Abcurses immediately shifted into gear, working to surround me … but Iwassurprised when they caught themselves, instead making room for me to stand between Coen and Rome. I tried to hide my smile.
“Pica has a soft spot for me,” he explained, his eyes finding me and settling on my face as though I was the one he had come to see. “You’re the girl,” he continued, his tone changing, becoming guarded. “The birds have whispered to me about you.”
Terrance. God of Bestiary.
“I might be the girl,” I answered him. “I guess it depends on what the birds are saying. Good things?”
He cracked a smile, propping his shoulder in the doorframe. Instead of answering me, he turned his attention slowly from Siret to Yael, to Aros, and then to Rome and Coen on either side of me.
“I assume you five are going to have an issue with me touching her?” he asked.
I raised my hand before they could reply, though I felt the immediate tensing in the bodies either side of me.
“Um, I might have a problem,” I announced.
In truth, I already knew that I was going to let him. Emmy had filled me in on what had happened when Cyrus took her to see the God of Bestiary. He had touched her in an attempt to sense her power—and had ultimately led them to discovering what it was. If he could do that for me …
“What is your problem, Sacred One?” a voice asked from the corner of the room.
I jumped, and several of the Abcurses spun around, though Yael only rolled his eyes up to the ceiling. Donald must have popped back into the room when I said that I had a problem.
“I don’t actually …” I stared, feeling the urge to rub my temples again. “I meant I had a problem with him touching me, not—”
She interrupted before I could force the explanation out. “I apologise for the disgusting dinner, Sacred One. I will burn the disgusting food and then bury the disgusting ashes and you won’t ever have to see it again. I will bring everything new and fresh.”
Failure. Disgusting food. Stupid Donald. Fail. Fail. Fail.
The litany of her inner reprimands immediately sprung into my head, colliding with my remaining nerves.
“What’s wrong with your server?” Terrance asked, his eyebrows shooting up slightly.
“There’s nothing wrong with her,” I snapped. “And the food wasn’t disgusting,” I added, turning to Donald. “We just aren’t very hungry tonight.”
“The food might be disgusting,” Siret countered with a shrug. “Maybe we’re just used to it because we don’t eat outside of Topia anymore. Maybe we can’t taste the difference anymore.”
“Compassion,” Coen hissed. “Remember? Like we talked about.”
“Right,” Siret agreed dryly, his mouth hooking up. There was no way he had listened to whatever conversation they’d had about “compassion.”
