Strength

by Jane Washington

  “I don’t even remember the question,” he groaned. “What is happening right now?”

  Something was happening, I realised. A need was building up inside me. My body was sinking back into his, my skin suddenly aching to be pressed against one of my guys, my hands desperate to touch them. It didn’t take long for me to close the distance between our mouths. I kissed him quickly, need thrumming through my body, and then pulled back. Pain shimmered across my skin, his hands contracting where they held my waist.

  A touch against my chin had my head turning, then, and gold eyes locked onto my gaze, Aros’s lips pressing into mine.

  The second kiss was more deliberate than the first, his hands shaping to the sides of my face, his fingers threading into the hair at the sides of my temple. I could taste him, and it was as though I needed that taste to bring myself back to life. I was so desperate for it, I could have cried.

  Aros pulled back, his eyes searching my face.

  “Can you feel it?” he rasped out.

  I thought that he was talking to me, but Coen was the one who replied.

  “Yes, she’s trying to absorb our energy. Open to her.”

  That made sense to me, on some level—but I couldn’t seem to properly analyse what it meant. Not with the sudden need that clouded my mind and swept through my body. I couldn’t think.

  My fingers were tangling in Aros’s shirt, pulling him back to me. His lips took mine again, a groan vibrating from his mouth to mine.

  Pain fissured down my spine in a sharp sting, forcing my mouth open. Aros’s tongue swept past my lips, his hands dipping to my shoulders, and then to my hips, drawing me out of Coen’s arms and into his. Pleasure rushed through me as soon as I collapsed onto his chest, sending him falling back against the mattress. His hands were beneath my shirt, sweeping up the curve of my spine. I felt a body hovering over me, and then a large hand threaded through my hair, turning my face suddenly to the side.

  I saw a golden stretch of skin right beside my head—Coen’s arm—and then the hand in my hair was forcing my mouth to his, and the pain was sweeping back down the length of my spine. The longer we touched, the stronger the buzzing sting of his power got. I shuddered, and Aros’s hands seemed to trace the reaction of my body, skimming over my back. Pleasure chased the Pain, soothing and stimulating at the same time.

  Coen must have been holding himself off me so that he wouldn’t crush me, but the hard pressure of his kiss was enough to have my body turning.

  I had never felt so restless before. So completely unable to stay in one spot. I needed them both, and I needed them too desperately to be content with any of their touches or kisses. Aros helped me to turn, and then suddenly I was laying on top of him, my back to his front as Coen lowered himself over my front, just enough to put pressure along the length of my body, but not enough to weigh me down. Both of his hands were now holding him up, and his kiss deepened, broken up only by the small growl emanating from the back of his throat.

  His Pain grew heavier, then, but it was countered almost immediately by a rush of heady pleasure, enough to force my body into an involuntary arch. I gasped, breaking the kiss, my head falling to Aros’s shoulder. His hands slipped up over my hips, and Coen lifted a little of his weight. I could feel Coen’s eyes on me, the attention almost like a physical touch as Aros’s fingers pushed beneath the waist of my pants. The Trickery-designed cloth was tight, unwilling to allow him access, but he only applied a quick, downward tug of pressure, and I heard the tear of material as it gave way. His hand pushed beneath the hem of my underwear, his fingers finding my core. Coen watched my reaction: the way my mouth dropped open on a gasp, the way I strained to push up into the body above me while still pushing down against the fingers that stroked me. I needed more.

  “Fuck, I can’t stand this,” Coen groaned, his mouth falling down on mine, his body shifting slightly to the side, his weight dropping down to his left elbow.

  He wasn’t covering me anymore, only pressing into my side, but I couldn’t complain—not with Aros’s heavy breath against my neck and the feeling of bliss building up quickly through my body.

  “Watching this is torture.” Coen sounded angry, but I didn’t have time to respond before my shirt was pulled away and flicked up over my head, breaking our kiss for only a breath before we came together again.

  “Need. Both,” I managed, but I wasn’t sure if either of them heard me.

  “I need her.” The words had come from Aros, muttered heavily as his fingers pushed into me.

  “I fucking need her,” this had come from Coen, the words dashed against my lips.

  Both of them pulled back, swearing. This felt like new, uncertain territory, and I wasn’t sure why. My body was suddenly turned again, but this time they seemed to have taken on my restlessness, their hands pulling at the scraps of clothing that still remained on my body, casting them from the bed as though personally offended by them. I was turned toward Aros, Coen now warming my back, and both of them were grabbing a hold of my body, dragging it in opposing directions. Coen had filled his hands with my breasts, pulling my upper half against him as small tendrils of pain licked down my chest, merging into a stinging haze of need as it neared my belly. Aros had taken my hips, dragging them against his, before his hand slipped down over one of my thighs, drawing it up and over his hip. His hardness was suddenly nestled between my legs, and I pressed against it, feeling overwhelmed by their warring powers even though I still strained for more of them.

  Aros was swearing again, pushing against me.

  “Choose,” Coen growled out, his touch growing rough, his cheek dragging across the back of my neck. “Quickly, before I make the choice for both of us.”

  Aros shifted, sliding my leg back down again. His lips pressed hard to mine, before drawing back.

  “Willa.” He was demanding my attention.

  My eyes were heavy, slow to blink open, unwilling to break the haze of pain and pleasure.

  “How do you want to do this?” His voice was strained. “We really need to know, because I don’t think we can hold on any longer.”

  “Both,” I muttered, a small gasp escaping my throat. Coen’s fingers had slipped between my legs, his grunt against the back of my neck telling me that he didn’t so much care about the semantics.

  Aros took my mouth again, shifting his hips back a little. He pulled my leg out again but placed it against the bed instead of slinging it over his hip, and then his hands were on my face and Coen was drawing his fingers away. I cried out, reaching for both of them, but Aros quickly smothered the sound with his lips, flooding his power into me as pain shimmered across the backs of my thighs. There was another sensation there, too. Something hard, pushing between my legs from behind. A hand was on the back of my thigh, pushing the leg that Aros had positioned further up the bed, and then Coen was sinking his length into me. Aros swallowed up each of my sounds, but there was no masking the rough curse that Coen released against the base of my neck as he drew back and pushed forward again, deeper this time.

  I clutched at Aros, the pain-power seeming to surge through me with each of Coen’s movements, even though my body was loving every moment of what he did to me.

  “Both,” I finally managed to demand, though I wasn’t exactly sure how that was going to be possible.

  It wasn’t until Aros shifted further up the bed that I realised how they were going to manage it. Once he had moved up far enough, I reached for his pants, working them down over his hips and taking his hard length into my hands. I caressed him lightly and heard the breath hiss out from between his teeth. It wasn’t until Coen tightened his hold on my hip, surging into me with more force than before, that I was spurred into action.

  I dipped forward, Aros moving at the same time, and my mouth opened as he pressed between my lips. He seemed to be trying to move slowly, to allow me to adjust, but I tried to swallow all of him, and he groaned, his hands quickly shifting to the back of my head, his hips flexing f
orward.

  We quickly developed a rhythm: pain and pleasure at war in my body as Coen drove me closer to release.

  Aros growled out a rough sound. “I’m going to come, Willa,” he told me.

  I figured it was a warning, but I definitely wasn’t going to stop. I tried to pull him in deeper, and he groaned, releasing into the back of my throat.

  Coen shifted me around as Aros eased out, lifting my body higher for greater access. He slammed harder into me, a tingling sensation ricocheting through my body. The sparks of pleasure had faded now that Aros was gone, but I was too far lost to care. Right then, pain and pleasure were two sides of the same token.

  I cried out, and Coen groaned into my neck, his sounds muffled as we rode out our pleasure together.

  I wasn’t sure how long we lay tangled together afterward, but the haze of bliss took a long time to fade from the edges of my mind. I was buzzing with energy suddenly, my eyes wide awake, my mind alert. I assumed that not too much time had passed, because light was still streaming in through the windows high in the stone wall.

  “Wait ...” I tensed, drawing a grunt of acknowledgement from one of the inert bodies at my side. “You were waking me up? Did something happen?”

  I pushed myself up into a sitting position, but a strong arm very quickly wrapped around me, pulling me back down.

  “Not now,” was the sleepy grumble that accompanied the arm. “Later. After sleep. And more sex.”

  My body buzzed in response, my toes curling involuntarily. Sex. It seemed like a very underwhelming word for what I had just experienced. Another groan answered that thought, this time from the other body.

  “Don’t tempt us, we’re not that drained.”

  “Shit.” I tried to disentangle myself again, finally managing to gain my knees. Drained.

  Two huge, beautiful gods lay sprawled before me, completely naked. I didn’t even remember them taking off their clothes.

  “I drained you both. I stole your energy.” My tone was accusatory, but I was only accusing myself. I felt terrible.

  “Yes.” Coen opened one eye sleepily, fixing it on me. “Now come here and drain me again.”

  I snorted out a laugh before I could stop myself, and the sleepy smile that turned up the corners of his mouth had my heart melting into a puddle in the centre of my chest.

  “I can see everything.” Aros sounded like he was complaining, but his hand was already slipping up the inside of my thigh, his eyes both open and burning into me. “You’re going to either have to put some clothes on or give us back our energy so that you can steal it from us all over again.”

  All of the laughter died out of me. I was aching again, my thighs tensing around his hand. I felt thoroughly satisfied, but the sudden tightening of my body was enough to suggest that I would never have enough of them.

  “Keep looking at me like that,” Aros warned, his hand inching up higher.

  I began to part my knees, just a little, but a sudden sound wailing through the room had us all pausing. It sounded like an alarm of some kind. A horn, blasting in a succession of sounds.

  “What the hell?” I scrambled from the bed, the others moving even faster.

  They had their clothes on before I had even managed to locate my pants. Not that they were much use, considering the fact that they were torn beyond repair.

  “Here.” Aros was pulling a shirt over my head, but it wasn’t one of mine. It fell to my knees and drowned my form, though it did manage to smell clean.

  “Thanks,” I muttered distractedly, as we all hurried to make our way out of the room.

  I only had one boot on, whereas the other two were fully dressed and didn’t even seem to have a single hair out of place. I wouldn’t have cared in any other situation, but I didn’t particularly want to be caught in the middle of a battle with only one boot and no underwear.

  Aros stopped walking, causing me to collide with his back. Coen has also stopped. Both of them were staring at me while the sound of the alarm continued to blast through the corridor around us.

  “You didn’t put on underwear?” Coen asked, his eyebrows inching up.

  “Is that really important right now?” I had to raise my voice over the sound of the horn.

  The two of them glanced at each other, and then back to me, both sets of eyes dropping to the hem of the oversized shirt I wore.

  “I feel like it’s important,” Coen admitted, while Aros nodded.

  I swallowed, my mouth going dry. Suddenly, the alarm didn’t seem so ... alarming.

  “Let’s go,” Coen ground out. “The next time I have you won’t be in a damn stone hallway.”

  “Why not?” I called out after him, as he took off at a run. Aros was close on his heels.

  I was a little further back, on account of my shorter legs and the way my belly was clenching with annoying need. I hadn’t always been so needy. It seemed that I grew worse with every encounter. I’d heard about sex addictions back in the seventh ring. Maybe I was developing a sex addiction ... although that didn’t seem quite right, because I only wanted to have sex with my Abcurses. That had to count for something. I only wanted to have sex all the time with each of my five boyfriends. Sometimes at the same time. No, definitely at the same time. Both is better—that was my new motto.

  “Wil-la.” Aros drew out the word, his voice a mix of frustration and strain. “There’s a crisis going on, you need to stop making me want to drag you back to that room.”

  “Right. Crisis.” I nodded, my breath puffing out as we ran up the steps toward the top of the mountain.

  I wasn’t sure why we were running to the top of the mountain. I was following Aros and Aros was following Coen. I supposed it seemed like a smart place to go, considering the main hall was the largest area for people to gather in.

  Siret, Yael, and Rome were already waiting at the top—though they were half-hidden behind a few towering pine trees, visible only from the direction we approached them in. We reached the top of the stairs just in time to witness the second strangest thing I had seen that sun-cycle.

  A group of sols were pushing through the entrance ahead of us, herded by several Topian servers.

  “What the hell is going on?” I whispered, as Coen suddenly froze, snagging me by the waist and pulling me over to the other Abcurses.

  Aros was already hidden, his back to the trunk of a tree beside us, muttering lowly to Siret. We all peered out at the servers: they were holding pitchforks, which they occasionally prodded at the sols they were herding into the main hall.

  “I have no idea,” Aros answered, “but considering Staviti’s energy was all over this place before you passed out, I’m going to say it’s nothing good ...”

  We all paused, Aros’s words dying off as a sound rang through the hall, floating out toward us with an eerie echo. It had been a man’s laugh: high and maniacal.

  I knew that laugh.

  I would have known it anywhere.

  “Rau,” I whispered, before breaking away from Coen. He reached out and re-caught me before I had even taken a step.

  “No,” he said, “you’re not going to storm in there and confront Rau.”

  “This is because of me,” I argued, as a form became visible before me, running up the stone steps of the mountain toward us. “Wait ... that’s Emmy, let me go!”

  “Willa!” She was screaming, having spotted me at the same time as I spotted her.

  I tried to signal to her that she needed to keep quiet, but she wasn’t paying any attention.

  “Stop!” She was still screaming, even though we were clearly stopped already.

  “Shhh, Emmy,” I was motioning to her frantically now as she reached me and I pulled her into the cover of trees.

  She was bent over, trying to draw in painfully deep gulps of air. Where had she run from? Topia?

  “You. Can’t.” She paused for air again. “Go. In. There.”

  “Take a click, Em, you’re about to die,” I advised, before f
urther shouting had my eyes flicking over to the building again. The servers standing at the entrance had disappeared, and the front had been left bare, the doors hanging open. I side-stepped the guys, moving toward the opening without thinking. One of the Abcurses cursed from behind me as I reached the door, positioning myself behind it and peering through the hall. It was surprisingly empty, other than the lines of sols leading right through the hall and to a set of doors at the other end. The servers were still policing the lines with their pitchforks, prodding the sols toward the other doors.

  Through the hall, and beyond the doors, I could barely make out Rau standing on a wide expanse of clifftop, his back to the ocean.

  “All sols will line up there,” he shouted, his voice carrying through the doors and echoing around the hall.

  The sols that were already facing him were mostly shaking and grey-faced. “You will all go up against me, one by one, until my Chaos sol shows herself. She is the only one who can save you.”

  “Willa Knight,” he shouted out, just as the realisation sank into me. “You are the only one who can save them.”

  Oh, shit. Why was I always the one called into battles? One look at me should have told everyone concerned that I wasn’t much of a fighter. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t just stand back and let all of these sols die for me. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad? I had brand new powers, after all. Rau was about to find out what it felt like to have a real live dic—

  “Willa!” Emmy’s cry cut off that train of thought, and I spun to her. Her breathing was now calm enough for clear speech. “Don’t even think about it. You cannot take on an Original God. Not to mention … you need to go to Donald.”

  I hadn’t expected her to say that at all. I had expected the warning about Rau and how he was probably going to rip my undead head off, but … my mother was supposed to be comatose.

  “She woke up, and immediately started malfunctioning,” Emmy continued. “She’s currently trying to stab people with her imaginary weapons. When I left, she was using a pitchfork, but who knows what’s next.”