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

by Washington, Jane

My head was nodding before he even finished his question. “Yes, but no more teasing.”

  Cyrus’s laugh was deep, and I lost the battle with my weak knees. One of his arms wrapped around me before I could stumble, pulling me tighter into his chest. I sucked in deeply, breathing him in. His scent was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It was like the crisp morning air right before a snow storm. It was so rare in Minatsol now to have rain and snow, but I remembered it from when we were kids. Once or twice a life-cycle, the snow would fall, and the rotations before that I always knew it was coming.

  Snow was a lot like Cyrus, actually. White. Clean. Cold. Beautiful. So beautiful that it felt like the world turned into fantasy land when it fell, hiding the ugliness below. But it could also be deadly if you were caught out without proper protection.

  Cyrus swung around suddenly, his arm still banded behind my back, lifting me as he walked toward the bed. He had used his power just before to repair his room, and the bed was now an impressive four-posted wood number. Carved. Ornate. I really didn’t care, as long as we had a soft surface. Or any surface.

  Nerves made themselves known in my gut as he laid me back, but the desire was so much stronger that I simply reached up and pulled his head down to mine. My body moved against his because there was no way I could stay still. Not anymore. I had to feel every part of Cyrus against me. I needed it. When he pulled back, lifting his head so that our eyes could meet, I almost groaned. His hair was tousled, his eyes wild, and he was glowing.

  “You’re glowing too,” he murmured, and I wondered if I’d somehow mentioned his glow out loud. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough of seeing your skin like this.”

  He was touching me again, holding himself up with one hand, while his other traced my body. My underwear—which was green and blue like my robes—dissolved at his touch. Literally. It was definitely a cool trick to have in these situations. Suddenly, I was completely bare before him.

  “Why do you have so much robe on?” I complained, wiggling under him.

  He groaned. “Please stop doing that. I’ve imagined stripping you naked for a long time—I’d like to enjoy the moment. If you don’t stop moving, it’s going to be over too quickly.”

  Ignoring him, I reached up and tugged at his white robes, needing them gone.

  He was a control freak, so I expected him to stop me so that he could remove them himself, but he didn’t. He let me go, allowing me to be the one to slide them across his body and kick them off the bed.

  He wore nothing underneath and I blinked a few times, my mouth back to being drier than the outer areas of Minatsol. Cyrus exuded so much power even against the other gods, so I had no idea why I was surprised to see how big and muscled his body was. His pale skin draped over long lines of heavy muscle. His body just went on and on. How freaking tall was he?

  “I like the way you stare,” he said, watching me while I watched him.

  My hands lifted before I could stop them, planting against his firm chest. His skin felt soft and hard at the same time, my fingertips sliding across the smooth surface, tracing the valleys and peaks of his muscles. “You’re … not what I expected,” I finally said, not sure if there were better words I could have used. It felt next to impossible to put my true emotions into anything quantitative right then.

  “For all of my power,” Cyrus said after a click, “I never saw you coming. Even if I had, there is no way I could have prepared myself for you.”

  His lips slammed closed and I wondered if he regretted that honest statement. I, personally, was very happy to see a softer emotion in him. Even if it had been confusing at the same time. Our moment for exploration came to a close as the need for each other took over. I arched up against Cyrus’s hardness and he lowered his chest back down so that his weight was pressed into me.

  “Do we need to worry about birth control?” I asked, my mind briefly touching on our previous conversation about the god-children. There was no way I’d let Staviti take my child from me, so I needed to know for certain that it wasn’t a possibility.

  Cyrus lowered his lips to mine, and just before we touched he said, “You don’t have to worry, I will ensure there are no children between us.”

  Before I could ask another question, his hand slid across my thigh, and he shifted his weight so that he could reach my centre. My breath was shallow as he slid one finger inside of me, followed by another. My body adjusted immediately, and as soon as those low tingles started, I had to move. Every stroke of his fingers had my body winding tighter and tighter. My head fell back and I didn’t even care about the little moans leaving my lips, I was too far gone to be embarrassed.

  When Cyrus’s thumb rubbed across me, I couldn’t hold on to my pleasure any longer. It spiralled away from me with enough force that I was light-headed when I finally came back to myself. Deep breaths in and out were pretty much the only function I could manage for a click or two after. Cyrus removed his hand, and I mourned the loss. But I knew we weren’t done yet, so it was a short mourning.

  Reaching out, I attempted to touch him as well, but he shifted just out of my reach. “I don’t need any warming up,” he said gruffly.

  I had to smile at that. “I didn’t need any either,” I chuckled. All of the looking and touching from before had gotten me there no problem. “But I’m not going to complain.”

  Cyrus’s sudden smile was breath-taking. When he reached out and cupped my face, I lifted myself to meet him half way. The moment our lips touched, he slid inside of me, and despite my orgasm not two clicks ago, my body still needed a moment to adjust to fit his size. He held himself inside until I began to move beneath him, unable to bear keeping still any longer. The building heat that had washed away any sense of discomfort was driving me to wrap my legs around his hips and urge him deeper.

  He made a low, guttural sound, lifting his head until he could see me properly. There was a strange look on his face—something torn between chastisement and desire. Feeling a tingle of amusement somewhere in the back of my mind, I tightened my hold of him even further, until he gave in with a rumble. He drove into me, his lips crashing back to mine. His pace wasn’t slow and careful—it was full of emotion, backed by all of the pent-up frustration that we always had for each other, and I loved it. My hands roamed his muscles—wherever I could reach, drawing sounds and groans from him as his lips moved to my neck, his teeth scraping against my skin. Something shifted, then, and I wasn’t sure what it was. I had the oddest sensation of the world tilting around me, of society falling away until only my soul remained, burning brightly with Cyrus’s light. I felt as though I was on the edge of a precipice; a choice. I could give in, jump off, submit. I could give him exactly what he had been demanding for so long … all I had to do was agree.

  “Yes,” I murmured, just as the tightening in my stomach started again, the pleasure making my head light.

  He reached between our bodies, pressing his fingers to my centre and driving me quickly over the edge as the world settled back into place around me with a heavy crash. He held me as I shuddered in his arms, feeling as though I was falling apart at the seams. I felt changed. Altered beyond reasoning. When the final waves passed through my body, he pulled out and switched our positions so fast that I barely had time to steady myself on my knees at the edge of the bed as he slipped off to stand before me. His length was suddenly pressing against my lips, his eyes asking permission, and on instinct I opened my mouth, my tongue moving to cover my teeth. He had barely pressed inside when he exploded, his fingers tight on the back of my neck, his eyes burning in white fire as he watched me.

  We collapsed back to the bed afterwards, both of us struggling for breath. I wanted to start panicking, to run off to do damage control on what could potentially have just been a very big mistake … but instead, I turned on my side, needing to feel connected to the man beside me. It was suddenly necessary for me to be close to him. His eyes found mine, and immediately, the room stopped spinning. It re-c
entred around him, and my mind quietened. I couldn’t sense any turmoil from him, and he didn’t look like he was freaking out. His hand was gently stroking my hip, his expression lazily possessive. He was happy that he had claimed me, I realised. At the realisation, I almost snorted.

  “Something funny, bug?” His voice was a husky murmur, his eyes warm, despite the nickname.

  “You’re pleased with yourself,” I accused, and I realised that I sounded just the same as him: deeply satisfied, lazy, warm.

  What the fuck?

  “I told you I would ensure that there were no children between us,” he rumbled, his hand gripping my hip tighter, dragging me fully against his body again.

  I had to swallow a laugh. “That’s … not what I was talking about.” Even though I had not minded it at all.

  “What were you talking about then?” He was nuzzling into my neck, his fingers trailing from my hip, to my waist, and back.

  I completely lost my train of thought, and somehow ended up pressed beneath him again, his lips still dragging over the tender skin of my neck. One of my legs was bent, half-curled around his waist, cradling the recently-awakened hardness that was pressing insistently against my belly. When he slid inside me again, it was slower than the first time. He rocked me gently to another orgasm, finishing with his lips fused to mine, holding my legs firmly around his waist as he held himself inside me.

  Never enough. The thought echoed inside my head, but it held a different taste to my usual thoughts. It sounded like Cyrus. He must have said it out loud, I realised.

  “Fuck … bug,” he groaned, rolling off me and tucking me into his side as I tried to recover from the aftershock of tremors that had seized up my body.

  I was beginning to like that nickname.

  “We can’t do this all night,” I panted, trying to get my breath back.

  “I can’t get enough of you,” he countered, biting into my shoulder.

  I arched back into the touch, my whole body over-sensitised, a heavy breath falling out from between my lips. “I know. You just told me.”

  He stilled, suddenly turning me around, his eyes locking onto mine. “What?”

  “You told me?” I repeated, hesitantly this time. “When we were … um … just before. You said ‘never enough.’”

  Bonded. The word was spoken in his voice, but this time I had a clear view of his mouth … and it hadn’t moved.

  “Bonded?” I repeated, my voice shaking.

  He was silent and still, only the fractional widening of his eyes cluing me in to the fact that he had heard me.

  “Yes …” he finally croaked out, emotion riding his tone. I had never seen him so open and unguarded before. “We’re fucking bonded. You were always meant to be mine.”

  His mouth crashed back down to mine, then, and I quickly lost myself to the demanding press of his hands. When I felt the hard press of him pushing between my thighs again, I opened my legs to welcome him inside, but a protesting wave of discomfort travelled through my body. We had done this too many times already.

  He must have felt it, because he pulled back, a smirk on his face. “Maybe we should give you a break …”

  “We should check on Willa,” I quickly agreed, my face flushing with heat. If we didn’t leave this room, it wouldn’t matter how much pain I was in. I couldn’t resist him.

  “Willa is being guarded by five of the most powerful and beloved gods in Topia. She doesn’t need you right now, but I sure as fuck do.”

  This time, the laugh did escape me. “We had sex twice and you’re already getting jealous?” I deliberately left out the bonding part. I wasn’t ready to deal with that just yet.

  “How many times do we need to have sex before that’s a reasonable emotion?” he asked. “I’ll catch up right now.”

  I laughed again, and the emotion that flooded through me was so alien that it caused me to pause, the laughter dying from my lips. When had happiness become so foreign to me?

  Not sure I was ready to go there, I focused on another important fact that we’d neglected in our haste to tear each other’s robes off.

  “We need to warn her about the glitching servers that came after us this sun-cycle,” I insisted. “That seems like something they should be aware of.”

  Cyrus grunted. “Fine. I’ll take you to see Willa again, but I will require something in return.”

  My body heated at the words. Somehow, I already knew what he was asking for. My voice croaked when I finally spoke again. “What is it?”

  “You sleep with me from now on.”

  “Okay.” I answered without thinking, the word pulled from me faster than I would have thought possible. I frowned, trying to back-track. “For how long?”

  “Until you no longer need me,” he answered, without hesitation. “I meant what I said earlier, Emmanuelle. If you want my protection, you will give me everything.”

  Something about that answer made my heart ache. I didn’t like being told what to do, or being blackmailed, but the idea of this arrangement ending at some point made me feel physically ill. Was it even possible for me to separate myself from him now that we had formed some kind of soul-bond? Willa had explained what little she knew of the soul-bond that she had with the Abcurse brothers. Apparently, it was rare enough that it was thought to be gifted by the magic of Topia, not even breakable by the likes of Staviti. But Cyrus thought that we could end this arrangement? My stomach roiled again. The response was so sudden and violent that I had to take a moment to close my eyes and gather myself before I could look at him again.

  “Alright,” I answered, my voice low. “You have a deal.” I pulled myself from the bed then, deciding that if I didn’t get up, we’d never leave.

  Cyrus was up in an instant as well, and he caught my hand, leading me toward a huge wardrobe. As we stepped inside the room, the lights flickered on, and I gasped. I’d expected the rows of white robes and shoes. The white shirts and belts. Basically, Cyrus had an entire store of white going on. But there was a flash of colour in the back that had shocked me.

  My colour.

  “It appeared when you first awoke as a god,” Cyrus said quietly. “At first I couldn’t figure out why they appeared here, in my room. But I think I understand now.”

  The soul-bond.

  His eyes met mine, glowing intensely again, and I realised that he had heard my thought.

  Swallowing hard, I quickly looked away from him and stepped closer, my hands brushing across the silken robes as I walked. Blue-green shone brightly in the white palette. There were countless robes, shirts and shorts, and underwear neatly folded in the drawers.

  “Unbelievable,” I murmured, before shaking my head and reaching for the robes.

  No time to ponder the symbolism of what I was seeing—Topia putting my clothes with Cyrus’s—it was time to deal with the mess of this world. Before it was too late.

  Ten

  Cyrus

  The way she moved was fucking incredible. Graceful. Nothing like her sister, who had just fallen off the bed and was currently being helped back up by Aros. Willa was unique in her energy, the chaotic nature of it like no other. But Emmy … she held me captivated.

  My head shot around when someone addressed me, and I realised that I’d been completely focused on my female and hadn’t heard a word.

  “What?” I snapped at Coen, who was standing right in front of me.

  He shot me an amused stare, not at all intimidated by the pissed off vibe I was currently rocking. He should have been at least a little cautious. I mean, I was here right now and not inside of Emmy, so I wasn’t exactly in the best mood.

  “I said, what are we going to do about the servers? Can we figure out if this is a direct attack from Staviti … or maybe there’s something deeper going on?”

  “Deeper like…?” I pressed, wondering if he was thinking the same thing as me.

  “Like Topia has finally had enough of the bastards destroying this world, and the ancient ener
gy here is fighting back,” Siret drawled from where he was sprawled across the end of the bed.

  An unfamiliar, and not at all welcomed emotion started to make itself known deep in my chest. My eyes went to Emmy again, and I almost lost focus when I realised that she was looking at me. Not just looking, but devouring me with her gaze. There was so much heat there that for a moment, I completely forgot what we were talking about again.

  She was going to be the death of me.

  Mine. The thought rang clearly in my head, and I quickly glanced away before I could read her reaction to it. I knew that she would have heard it, but I didn’t want to scare her off with the knowledge that we were now unequivocally tied—bound by a power that was beyond us. Bound by the simple flick of fate that we were each other’s perfect equal, and we had found each other. There might have been an even chance of me finding another that could have been my perfect equal, but I found her. And now it would be only her. For both of our eternities.

  That thought didn’t scare me as much as it should have, but I knew better than to think it wouldn’t frighten her.

  “If Topia is the one corrupting those animated with their ancient energy, then we really should check the panteras,” I murmured, almost as an afterthought as I realised that Coen was still waiting for a response.

  And if we went to the panteras, and found that they were acting out of character, then everyone should be afraid. Because I was created from the deep magic of Topia. The oldest of energies, and if they lost control of me … if I lost control of myself …

  All hell would break loose.

  Emmy was off the bed and at my side in an instant. “I want to see them,” she said, without preamble. “I’ve been dreaming about meeting them ever since Willa first told me of them.”

  “I’m going as well,” Willa declared, jumping up to stand beside her sister. “I’m sick of being trapped in here. I’ll go crazy. I’ll do it. Don’t think I won’t!”

  No one doubted that; Willa was halfway there already. When she pressed closer to Emmy, I realised that the two of them actually looked like blood relatives. Willa was a little more petite, her features somehow cute and beautiful at the same time. Emmy was beautiful and refined, the arch of her eyebrows defined, the cut of her cheekbones sharp.