by Jeanne Allen
As we take a seat, the rest of the guys pile on the other bed, facing us. Lucas returns from the bathroom as everyone settles and joins the others on the bed opposite Jackson and me.
Jackson takes my hand, the calluses on his thumb sending waves of pleasure through me as he rubs the area between my thumb and forefinger. “Jin and I searched for a way around the Awakening. Had you grown up Phósopoi, you would be expecting it, looking forward to it even. But since you grew up human, and with your history…”
I frown at the beige carpet, focusing on the mysterious stain I find at the foot of the bed. I hate it when people assume I’m damaged because of my past I’m not, I’m…
“You’re not damaged, Sweet Pea. We know that. But no one wants to be forced into something before they’re ready and willing,” Lucas says softly.
I look up at him, narrowing my eyes at his chocolate brown ones, which seem dull without his usual mischief.
“Not reading your mind, just reading your emotions and guessing accurately.”
I give him a grimace. Not really any better, but I guess most of them could tell where my thoughts had gone. The longer we’re together, they seem to know me better than I know myself.
Jackson squeezes my hand. “We even consulted your father while you were… resting.”
I sense his hesitation. “But…” I prompt, frustrated with the way he draws this out.
I don’t need them to spell out the situation. I know what I felt back in the car. If it hits again for longer than a few minutes, me and what’s left of my virginity won’t stand a chance. I just need to know my options.
“There’s nothing. There’s only one way an Agora Awakens and Bonds her Kladí.”
I’m about to accept the inevitable when I grab on to the way he phrased it. “Wait, you mean…”
“Yes,” Jin says from the other side of me.
I hadn’t even noticed he moved.
He takes hold of my other hand, pulling it into his lap where he guards it jealously, encapsulating it completely until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
“In order to Bind all of us, you have to be intimate.”
“With all of you in one night?” I don’t know much about sex other than what was done to me in my youth, but even I know there’s a limit to human physiology. I can’t imagine mutant physiology is that much different.
Lucas has the audacity to chuckle. “Not in the way you think. We just all need to be there, touching you, when it happens. But the act itself only needs to happen once.”
“Oh.” I try to keep my head above the waters of panic that threaten to drown me. One thought rises to the surface, pushing out all others with its ferocity.
Who will be the one?
“How long until I lose my choice?” Now that I know this is happening, it’s surprisingly easy to focus on the logistics rather than the emotions attached to the act.
“Once your Awakening starts, you can Bond at any time to complete the ritual. If you wait too long, your body will act without your approval,” Lyle says, his Mother-Hen voice in full effect.
Suppressing my eye roll, I nod. I know my body, and the lust I felt back in the car was not something that happens naturally. It felt alien, like some unseen force controlled me. I didn’t like the thought of my mutant genetics taking away my ability to choose who I want in my bed, and I really didn’t want my first time to involve attacking one of the guys like a cat in heat.
“I… I can’t decide,” I manage to whisper.
I love all of my men. My Kladí each hold equal places within my heart. Each of them occupies a different space, and I love them in different ways, but none are above the others, and they know that.
At least, none of them look surprised at my admittance.
“Are you giving us the go-ahead to take the lead, baby?” Lucas asks. “If you don’t like anything, all you have to do is speak up. Lucas will be sensing your emotions as well.”
That’s right, I’d forgotten about Lucas’s Gift in all of this.
When I glance in his direction, his Goblin eyes turn serious for a second, letting me know he won’t let anything happen to me. A weight lifts off my shoulders. I don’t even have to tell them if I’m getting uncomfortable. And I don’t have to worry about my voice being taken away, because Lucas can tell my emotions simply by being in my presence.
“Why don’t you go take a cold shower to help clear your head a bit?” Sebastian suggests.
Feeling much lighter, I nod, giving the go-ahead before turning to the promise of a shower and a few minutes to prepare myself mentally and physically.
I hadn’t realized how tense I was about the possibility of not being able to voice my objections. He wasn’t the first to realize I was powerless if he could stop my words in time. After years of being unable to fight back, I suppose it was something I came to expect when facing intimate situations.
It wasn’t like I’d really done anything with anyone. The guys would be the first to see me naked since I moved in with Mary.
With that thought in mind, I pay special attention to shaving and washing as I rush through a shower. Thank the Cheese Lords for Leeli and her insistence I started waxing a while back.
“It’s hygienic,” she’d raved as she dragged me to my first appointment.
When I exit the bathroom, the low light of the bedside lamps cast shadows over the two large beds. Five of my men stand like sentinels surrounding one of the beds. I fervently hope they won’t be staying like that during the act.
It’s downright creepy, back-of-my-mind voice affirms.
Sebastian gives me a haughty look. The soft light flickering over his face makes his features look more ethereal than usual. His baby-blue eyes tell me to stop worrying, so I try. I attempt to surrender my worries and doubts, tucking them away, as I always have, to the back of my mind and allowing simple animal instinct to drive me toward the bed and my remaining soulmate.
“Hi,” I say nervously, crawling over the bed toward him. The cheap hotel robe I wear dips to reveal pale white skin and what little there is of my cleavage.
A slow grin is his only response as Forrest reaches out to grab me. He moves his hands over my shoulders, his touch worshipful as he makes his way toward the simple cotton tie at my waist.
He pauses, and eyes the color of storm clouds meet mine.
I answer his question with one of my own. “Why you?”
I don’t mind that it’s Forrest. I meant it when I said I couldn’t choose. But I’m surprised by the choice. He and Jin seem the most like me, damaged. I’m not sure I could handle anything other than gentle this first time and worry Forrest won’t be able to give it to me.
Slate eyes soften as he moves his hand down to hold mine, encapsulating it in his warmth. He doesn’t seem offended by the question. I think he expected it. “Because I’m the only one untouched. We all agreed that it would be best for someone untried to bring you into your Awakening. My purity may help in the ritual.” He speaks the last part with such obvious sarcasm I know it hadn’t been his idea, but I also know he wasn’t going to turn down the opportunity. The grin he gives me proves that.
“You… You’re a virgin?” I’m stuck on that bit of information.
Forrest nods. “We can talk about my history later, babe, but right now, we need to start if you want to have a choice in all of this.”
He was right. I could feel my skin heating up and my thoughts turning erratic like they had in the car. All I can focus on are the mountain-man muscles clearly on display now that Forrest isn’t wearing a shirt. Then, I notice all he’s wearing is a pair of tight boxers, and my mind leaves me completely.
Mouth dry, I try to swallow, but my motor functions have yet to recover from the sight of the bulge in those shorts or the muscled thighs that surround it.
Chuckling, Forrest flips me over to lay on my back, and his hands go toward the tie again. This time, he doesn’t ask. He unwraps me like a present. His joy and awe ar
e so clear in those stormy eyes that they leave no room for doubt. A sideways glance at our audience shows proof that my Kladí are as affected by the sight of my body as I am by Forrest’s.
Forrest worships me with his mouth, as do the rest of my Kladí.
Jackson takes my lips, his tongue caressing mine in a slow sensual dance as befitting my prince.
On the other side, Jin attacks my neck with the fierceness I’ve come to expect from the Assassin. Pleasure seeps into my skin. No patch is left untouched as my Kladí move over me.
By the time Lyle and Lucas reach their hands to tease my breasts, I’m barely cognizant.
Before long, I’m completely caught up with the feel of my six Kladí surrounding me, giving me the comfort and love I need to relax. With a shuddering breath, I melt into the bed. My head leans back, and I allow Jin more access to the place I’ve found I really enjoy his mouth. I’m so enraptured, I barely notice Forrest entering me. The sharp intake of breath at the sudden pain is quickly drowned out by the pleasure I find in the hands busy elsewhere. After allowing me to adjust to his size, my sexy, gray-eyed Kladí starts moving, and then everything culminates.
My skin heats up, a haze forming around my eyes, and blue mist surrounds us like it had in the alley battle. It obscures the sight of my Kladí until I can no longer make out their shapes moving. I say nothing, too far gone to care about my weird powers acting up, but I can still feel them. They work together to bring me to a point where I feel like my blood is going to burst from my skin.
With a guttural cry, Forrest drives me to the edge once more.
And then, darkness.
Chapter 9
I can’t feel anything.
Not the heavy weight of my limbs. Not the soft drumming of our Omás Bond. Not even the weightlessness of being suspended, like in the water. It’s as if I float in darkness. When I try to move my hand, nothing happens. The only muscles I seem able to control are my eyes, but I can’t see anything. I feel my eyeballs rolling back and forth, yet the void remains the same.
After what feels like a century, my mouth tingles like I ate something particularly spicy, and my lips pucker at the sensation. I rub them together before testing out my vocal cords.
“H-Hello?” I croak.
No answer.
After a few moments, feeling creeps back into my neck. I stretch it from side-to-side, reveling in the weight of my head as it moves. Never will I take something as simple as being able to move my head for granted again. Whatever it was that numbed my senses must be slowly disappearing because, after my neck, my shoulders regain feeling, then my upper arms.
When I’m able to swing my arms and stretch my fingers, tears run down my face in relief.
I don’t know how long I float in the darkness, but eventually, sensation returns to all of my body. Beneath my feet, there’s still nothing to touch or bump into, yet I can move my legs as if I’m walking, allowing me to pace around wherever I am.
“Hello?” I try again, louder this time.
Still no response.
I could really use a freaking light.
I’m reminded of the alley battle, when I used my Agora Power. It glowed blue then, and I have vague memories of it glowing again while I was… Bonding with my guys. I decide that anything at this point is better than nothing.
Taking a deep breath, I call my power.
Nothing happens.
I try again, concentrating on the feeling I had when I faced Lewis in the alley.
Again, nothing. No spark, no blue.
“Chicken and rice!” I yell, swinging my arms out in frustration. I’m rewarded for my childish outburst with a flicker of blue along my wrist.
Focusing on my feelings of frustration and anger, I think of the times I’ve been the angriest. Memories threaten to drag me back to the bad place I usually keep them locked away in, but when I shift my focus to the feeling rather than the cause, the flicker grows in strength, traveling up my arm.
By the time I’m able to let go of my anger, the light runs playfully along my body.
Once again, I notice my power seems more sentient than from what I learned was normal in my studies at university. Thankfully, now that I know what it feels like to call on the glowing blue power, I’m able to call it to my other arm without dredging up old memories.
This time, it responds to my call quicker, as if eager to come out and play.
When I have two arms full of strong blue light, I release my concentration and lift them.
Around me, illuminated in the soft glow of my power, gray and black mist moves in patterns unlike anything I’ve ever seen in nature. I wave my arms around, moving my legs to see if I can travel anywhere now that I can see where I’m going.
No such luck; there’s nothing else, just mist. Even walking in a straight line for what seems like hours reveals nothing. I’m utterly alone, only surrounded by mist and my Agora Power. Not a soul to be seen and nothing of substance to be felt.
Even though I can move around, it reminds me of the time one of my foster moms locked me in a small box as punishment. The memory triggers my growing panic, shortening my breath and causing what little I can see to grow hazy. Taking slow breaths, I try my best not to pass out. The voice at the back of my head reminds me that, if I pass out now, who knows if I’ll wake up. At that sobering thought, I clear my head enough to replace panic with frustration.
Flinging my power at the mist, I yell, “Where am I?”
I don’t expect an answer, but, to my astonishment, the mist parts ways so that my power goes through it, and in the small hole it creates to avoid my onslaught, I glimpse a bit of green. For the first time in who knows how many hours, I feel an inkling of hope at the situation.
With the kind of giddiness that comes from extreme relief, I taunt, “Afraid of a little fire?”
I don’t know why I feel the need to antagonize the sentient mist, but it feels good. I close my eyes and try to center myself.
Thank you, state-appointed therapists, for your weird breathing routines, back-of-my-mind supplies sarcastically.
I calm myself and attempt to reach inside. Silently, I chastise myself for only now remembering what my professors at the university taught us about how Kladí have to reach inside for their power to use it after their Awakening. The thought comes to me as soon as I realize my blue spark works more like the Kladí Gift than the average Agora Power. After finding my center, I open my eyes and fling my arms again in an attempt to throw more of my blue Power at the mist, but nothing happens.
After a few agonizing moments of flailing my arms like a madwoman, I’m about ready to give up. It feels stupid to think I could access my power like the Kladí. Even they have to train in order to access it the first time. Just as I’m about to pull back from concentrating on my inner core, I notice a tug in the center of my chest.
Resisting the urge to scratch at the strange sensation, I focus on the thin strand of power. Utilizing the same single-minded concentration as before, I pull at the strand.
Bit by bit, my power comes out.
Closing my eyes again, I imagine weaving it into the skin on my arms where my glowing blue power rests.
When I open my eyes, glowing strands of gold and blue lace together and surround my arms. The strands of gold trail down to my palms, where it collects into small shimmering pools about the size of quarters. The gold power is nothing like the blue. It doesn’t run up and down my arm like an eager kitten. It stays still and motionless, like real threads made of gold. Meanwhile, the blue threads hum with life, and I sense that they would respond to me if I could figure out how to communicate with them. I eye the golden shadows the new threads of power cast over the mist.
I hope this level-up, or whatever, is enough to blast my way out of the mists of doom.
I try to imagine my power gathering in my palms, building up like water against a dam. My eyes narrow at my palms, my concentration focused on pulling those thin golden strands togeth
er. I’m rewarded with the small, quarter-sized pools widening. After a few more moments, they’re about the size of half-dollars. Sweat trickles down my brow, and my back is tight and aches like I’ve done some heavy lifting. With one last, sharp tug at the strands, I look up to face the small hole I saw before.
“This had better work,” I mutter.
Holding my shaking hands up and palms out, I’m reminiscent of a certain iron billionaire. I breathe in and imagine my power releasing from both palms as I exhale, pushing out with what energy remains in my aching limbs.
My Agora Power tickles over my fingertips as it shoots out soundlessly, pure glowing light arching toward the mist. When the gold and blue power shoots toward it, the mist parts.
Thankfully, the new gold power is more impactful than the blue streak I sent earlier. Through the tear in the mist, I glimpse grass and a hill.
Giving myself no more time to think, I rush forward and jump toward the opening. Keeping my hands out, the strands of gold thin as I reach the hole. The last bit of the power wafts away from my palms as my feet clear the small hole. I twist as my back hits the ground with enough force to drive the breath from my lungs.
For what seems like ages, I lay on what feels like grass, slowly regaining my breath and calming my staccato heart. Eventually, I crack open my eyes and focus on the clear blue sky above. It looks more like a painting than it does nature. The color is so perfect, and even the clouds seem too symmetrical and evenly spaced.
Then, I realize they aren’t moving.
“Ugh,” I grunt as I prop myself up on my elbows. I emit more noises as I utilize my pathetic ab muscles to curl up into a sitting position.
Once I’m right side up, I look around more.
What I find is breathtaking. I’m at the top of what appears to be a gracefully sloping hill, covered in a green so vibrant I touch it to check if it’s real. It feels like grass, but as with the sky, something seems off. Everything is too perfect here, too still, too quiet. The grass is real, but I’m not sure if it’s alive. Apart from my perch, there are miles of rolling hills and valleys as far as I can see. Not a tree in sight, no birds or flowers, either. Just perfect grass and hills.