Neutral: A Curse of the Gods Novella (Book 4.5)

by Washington, Jane

  “Why are we hiding in here?” I eventually spoke up. “Can’t we just go through a pocket, back to your home?”

  He laughed, but there was a flash of something defiant in his bright eyes. “Nice try, bug. I told you: we’re not leaving until you display your power. Even if it means we’re trapped in a cave while an army of altered servers builds up outside.”

  I growled, the angry sound vibrating from the cave walls. “You’re the all-powerful, gods-dammed Neutral, why can’t you just … force it out of me?”

  “I’d much rather wait until you can no longer contain it.” He smirked. “I like the thought of watching you come undone, of being the one to witness the mess I know you have somewhere inside of you.”

  “There is no mess inside of me.” I sniffed. “I clean and organise whatever is inside me several times a sun-cycle. I would never leave a mess, even where nobody can see it.”

  He rolled his eyes and held a hand out, stretching his fingers as a small sphere of spidery, contained light flickered into existence, arching toward his skin as though eager to dive back inside him. I backed away from the evil, expectant glint in his eyes.

  “What are you doing?” I narrowed my eyes on him, feeling my way along the wall. I was cornered, no matter where I moved.

  “Raising your emotions,” he replied. “I thought we’d start with fear.”

  “And then?” My hand caught against a loose rock wedged into the cave wall. I pulled it behind my back as Cyrus stalked toward me.

  “And then pain,” he answered, looking as though he was a micro-click away from tossing that ball of white light at me.

  I acted first, hurling the rock toward him. He flicked it away without even blinking. I remained where I was standing, rage starting to swell inside me. I hated being cornered.

  “Fine!” I finally shouted, holding both of my hands up. He lowered his arm an inch. I stepped toward him, and then held my arm out.

  “You can hit me here.” I pointed to my forearm. “We’ll see if pain works.”

  He stared at my arm, and then stared at me. Eventually, he snorted. “That isn’t pain.”

  “It is for a dweller.”

  “You’re a god.”

  “I was a dweller a moon-cycle ago. It still counts. I’m sure my brain is wired to react just the same as when I was a dweller. It hasn’t had time to settle into my new invincibility yet.”

  He rolled his eyes up toward the roof of the cave, exasperated, before sighing out, “Fine.”

  I screwed my eyes shut, preparing for him to punch my arm, but his fingers wrapped around my wrist instead. I blinked one eye open. He was staring at my forearm, his other hand finding the sleeve of my robe, brushing it up to my elbow to reveal my skin. I watched him as he watched me, staring too intently at my skin. He pushed the sleeve up higher, but the fabric bunched, refusing to go any further. He made a frustrated sound, and the fingers around my wrist tightened, yanking me forward a step until the heat of his body was right there before me, burning down my front.

  “You feel so full of life,” he breathed out, almost in a trance, his hands moving to the neckline of my robes, fingers fanning out beneath the fabric, settling in against the bare skin of my shoulders with a heaviness that seemed possessive, almost needy. “What is this change?”

  “The change would be that I died,” I replied dryly, though my heart was suddenly beating so loudly that it almost drowned out my own words. “So I think you’re picking up on the wrong feeling there.”

  “No, that’s what it is,” he rumbled against the top of my head, pulling me even closer so that I was now pressed fully along the front of his body.

  His hands inched further out along my shoulders, pushing the robe out with the movement. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry, my body starting to shake. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This time, my reaction showed in my tremulous tone.

  “Your skin is fucking vibrant,” he answered. “You are starting to show your power, Emmanuelle.”

  Eight

  Cyrus

  The white light that formed the basis of my energy liked her. It was vibrating … seeking out whatever power lay within Emmy. The longer I touched her perfect skin, the more difficult it was for me to not keep touching her. To not shift her robes away completely so than I could touch and taste every inch of her. She watched me with wide, wary eyes. But not with the level of fear I would have expected. In fact, she hadn’t tried to back away from me—or push me away from her—since I started touching her, which was unexpected.

  Something was shifting between us, and my Neutral energy definitely liked her.

  So did I.

  Before I could think it through, I was pulling her into me. She lifted herself onto her toes, like she’d been waiting for me to make the move. Our lips met. The moment she opened her mouth, a rumble rocked through my chest. Mine.

  Normally I would question the instinct that was rearing inside of me, the feeling that this woman in my arms was the only one that I was ever going to want in my world. But I was beyond questioning anything. All I wanted was this moment with her.

  She pressed closer to me, making small throaty sounds. My hands slid down her body, along the shiny smooth robes, before I cupped my hands under her. She was tiny compared to most gods, weighing nothing as I lifted her up into my body.

  She didn’t fight me, but she also didn’t wrap herself around me that way I’d seen Willa do with Abil’s sons. It was like Emmy didn’t know what to do with her legs, so she left them dangling there.

  Or maybe she was too distracted, because our kiss was moving past the hot stage straight into an inferno.

  “Cyrus,” she gasped, wrenching her face from mine. “What are you doing?”

  I took my time answering her, preferring to press my lips to her jaw first. Between each kiss I said, “I’m … unlocking … your … power.”

  She groaned. “But you said pain … I’m…”

  Her words trailed off like she’d completely forgotten what she was going to say, and I grinned against her skin. Having her flustered was a novel experience; I liked that I was capable of making her lose control.

  “Cyrus,” she said again. There was something different in her tone and I paused, before lifting my head so that I could see her. “I’m glowing,” she finished, her eyes wide.

  I’d thought it was from me, the white light—even though it was unusual for me to lose control of it, even in such highly charged, emotional situations. But she was right: the glow that filled the room wasn’t coming from me at all. It was hers.

  “Am I like you?” she asked, swallowing hard. “Could I be another Neutral?”

  I shook my head. “No, you don’t have my power. I’m certain.”

  She hadn’t been born of Topia; she didn’t hold the same power. She was something different to me.

  Her body arched slightly and the light filtering from her skin increased. And increased again. Within a click the room was so bright that anyone who wasn’t a god would have been blinded from the light.

  “Emmanuelle,” I said slowly. “What are you doing?”

  She didn’t answer immediately, and worry edged through my mind—such a foreign emotion that it actually took me a moment to figure out that’s what I was feeling.

  “Emmy!” I repeated, with more force.

  “Cyrus, I think this is my power.”

  My eyes were burning from the light, forcing me to close them. “You’re a lightning bug?” I asked sarcastically, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do now.

  “No,” she answered, her voice huskier than I’d heard before. “I feel it now. I know exactly what my energy is … I’m life. Creation. Fertility.”

  I stilled before slowly lowering her to the ground. She let out a low laugh, and then slowly the light faded away. My eyes adjusted immediately, and I blinked more than once, wondering if what I was seeing was possible.

  “Fertility,” I echoed back her previous word.
“That’s one way to put it.”

  The entire inside of the cave floor was now filled with plants and flowers and vines. Emmy had managed to bring an entire garden to life with her light. She could create life where there was nothing but emptiness.

  “Do you know what this means?” she asked, breaking through my train of thought. I pulled my eyes from the lush flowers sprouting at our feet, lifting them to the stunningly beautiful goddess before me.

  “What does it mean?”

  She smiled. “It means that I have the power to bring life back to Minatsol. To the dead lands beyond the furthest rings. I can return everything that has been stolen from my home.”

  It annoyed me that she still thought of Minatsol as her home. I wanted her to feel that way about Topia, but I couldn’t exactly blame her. Staviti was going out of his way to make everyone feel like they were in the middle of a war.

  “We definitely need to keep you from Staviti now,” I told her, my tone grave. “He hasn’t allowed any children to exist in Topia. Only Abil’s Trickery was able to finally defeat his determination to keep children out of this land. Not even Pica was allowed to keep her child.”

  “I thought he always loved Pica,” Emmy said, surprised.

  I shrugged. “He loved her so much that he wouldn’t allow her to have a child with another.”

  Emmy froze, and I knew that her brain was immediately processing what I’d said and had reached a conclusion. “Staviti can’t have children?” she asked me.

  “No,” I told her. “Pica told me once that it was his greatest desire. Whatever happened to make him into a god caused infertility. He can create gods, but no biological children.”

  “That’s why,” she breathed, shaking her head. “That’s why he won’t let the gods have or keep their children, he’s angry that he doesn’t have any of his own.”

  “That might be one reason,” I allowed. “But it might also be a fear that any other beings born into godhood the way he was will only pose a threat to his power and rule.”

  She was worrying a finger against her lip as she sank deep into thought about something, and I took that moment to turn away, discreetly adjusting myself so that my obvious erection was a little less … obvious.

  Fertility.

  Just what I needed. Emmy’s power was forcing every molecule of my being to crave something that I had already been craving. I had a feeling that my life was about to get much more difficult.

  “Can you put it away so I can think?” I finally growled at her, as I watched her pacing slowly back and forth in thought.

  She paused, and her eyes widened. She quickly stepped into my space, and I cringed at the worry in her features. She wasn’t using her power on me. I realised it before she even opened her mouth.

  “Never mind,” I grumbled, cutting across her words. “Let’s get back to my home.”

  I pulled her into me, stepping us through a pocket and into my bedroom. I had intended to bring her into the lounge, but my thoughts had been distracted at the last click. I took some secret satisfaction in the heat that she tried to shield from her eyes as she quickly stepped away from me, casting a glance toward the mattress strewn across the debris on the floor.

  Fuck it, I decided, moving over to the door.

  “Donald!” I shouted.

  “Yes, Sacred Ass—”

  “Don’t even think about calling me that again,” I cut across her, as she appeared before me.

  She quickly prostrated, her apologies raining down over me. Emmy or Willa would have pulled her up. I allowed her to grovel before I finally spoke.

  “Go to the other side of the cave. Don’t return until I call you, I can’t have any more interruptions, am I clear?”

  “Yes, Sacred One!” Donald jumped up, quickly hurrying off, and I waited until she was out of sight before closing and locking the door.

  I didn’t really need to lock it—but the click of the mechanism falling into place had the desired effect on Emmy. She started to back away from me, her expression becoming alarmed.

  “W-what are you doing?” she stammered out.

  “I helped you discover your power. Don’t forget our deal. I agreed to help you, but in exchange I want you. I’ve been helping you since that promise, but now it’s time for me to start collecting.”

  She stopped moving immediately, and I was sure that she even stopped breathing. Her fists were clenched by her sides, and to anyone who wasn’t me, she would have looked furious … but I knew better.

  “What will you give me?” I asked her, as she battled with her needs.

  She needed me, I could see that in the pooling of desire that had flooded into her gaze. Unfortunately, she also needed to be as stubborn as possible.

  “What do you want?” I could tell that she wished to take back the question almost as soon as she voiced it, but I wasn’t going to let that happen.

  I quickly closed the space between us, my fingers gripping her robe, pulling on the loose material. Her slender figure was easy to make out as I tugged the material to the side, stretching it over her shape before releasing it to flutter back into place against her skin.

  “Take this off,” I ordered. “I want to see you glow.”

  I waited for her reaction, knowing very well that I had asked a very steep price for my first repayment from her. I was sure that she would throw something at me, or yell at me for ordering her around, but she didn’t. She thought about it, her eyes holding mine steadily. I wasn’t delusional enough to think that she was grateful to me; she was still pissed that I had locked us inside a cave, threatening to wait as long as it took to discover her power. After several clicks, she began to tug on the ties of her robe. My legs were suddenly weak, but I took a moment to send my power out and repair the bed and most of the furniture. I’d left it that way as a punishment of sorts, but it was time for all of us to heal.

  Striding across the room to where she stood, my hands found the sides of her face, my fingers gripping her firmly, but gently—turning her face up to meet mine. I kissed her curiously, tasting her need for me, feeling her short breaths against my mouth, the flushed skin of her face beneath my fingers, and hearing the breathy sounds she made whenever she thought I was about to pull away. I needed to assure myself that while I was coercing her … she wasn’t unwilling. I was never going to stop ordering Emmy around, just as I was never going to stop pushing her boundaries. She existed to test me, so it was only fair to test her back, but I had an innate fear of pushing her too hard, too fast. She had lived her life as a dweller, which made her more fragile than the sols who trained their whole lives to bear the possible burden of immortality and magic. I was afraid that by pushing Emmy too far, I would break her in some way.

  The kiss grew desperate in a matter of moments, her hands pulling at my shoulders, my hands shaping to her ass. I had to keep reminding myself not to break her. When both of us were panting, I stepped back, walking backwards until the post at the end of my newly formed bed hit my back. Emmy stood there with rubbed red lips and tousled hair, her robes askew.

  Yes, now she looked like she wanted what I was asking of her.

  “The robe,” I reminded her, my words almost a groan.

  Gods, what has this woman turned me into?

  Nine

  Emmy

  For the first time in my life, logic failed me. Because being with Cyrus was probably the worst decision I could make. On paper. If I was making a checklist about the pros and cons, the top of that list would be that he was not the sort of being—god—that one settled into a relationship with. And I was the relationship type. He was also controlling, powerful, domineering, and argumentative.

  On the other hand, he was kind and smart and caring. He’d shown that … in his own way, more than once. I did trust him, as much as anyone can trust a god.

  And, all logic aside, Cyrus made me burn. He made my body come to life in a way that probably should have been illegal, because when he touched me, there was litera
lly nothing he could ask that I wouldn’t give him.

  And I was about to give him exactly what he wanted: everything.

  My robes fluttered almost silently to the floor; my breath caught in my throat because it was a vulnerable position to be in with someone like Cyrus. It was hard to truly let all of my guard down.

  The silver of his eyes almost looked to be swirling as they ran across me. He took his time, starting at the top of my tousled blond hair and ending at the slippers I still wore. By the time he was done with that perusal, I was on fire. My skin was so sensitive that even the slide of my fingertips across my side as I moved was enough to send tingles through my body. Was this part of his power? Could he seduce me with one look? Sounded more like something that Aros would do, but whatever Cyrus was up to, he almost had me to the point of begging.

  Swallowing against the dryness in my throat, I tried to keep my breathing steady. He reached out a hand and everything inside of me tensed in anticipation of the first touch. His palm pressed against the bare skin on my chest, just above the swell of my breasts. The heat was intense, branding. I swallowed again, closing my eyes and allowing myself to not think. To just feel.

  “Cyrus,” I breathed.

  I had no idea what I was asking him, I just needed him to do something.

  His hand started to move down, slowly stroking, gently caressing my skin. It slid lightly across my bra, and then firmer over my stomach. He traced my curves like he was memorising them, and I started to panic that my legs were no longer going to hold me up.

  “Do you want this?” he asked in a low rumble, leaning even closer to me.