Pain (Curse of the Gods Book 5)

by Jaymin Eve

  She shifted her head then and I gasped, instantly wishing I could take it back. Evie swung in my direction and her jaw dropped.

  “Willa?” she asked, blinking a few times. “When did you get here?” She examined me a little closer, just as I was doing to her, and then she grinned. “And you’re a god too. Well, at least they’re starting to get some awesome into their ranks.”

  I swallowed hard, unable to look away from the ropy scar tissue that ran down one side of her face. Her lips pulled on that side, and her eye wasn’t as wide as it had been before. More burn marks extended down into the top of her open collar.

  “I am so sorry, Evie,” I choked out. “My loss of control caused this.”

  She lifted a hand and pressed it to her scarred cheek, like she’d forgotten it was even there. “Oh, the burns. Yeah, it’s not your fault.”

  “Let me fix them,” I begged, taking a step forward. “I have the power now, I can take away your scars.”

  She lifted the hand from her cheek, holding it up to me instead, palm facing me. “No!”

  I ground to a halt—I hadn’t even realised I was still shuffling forward.

  Her smile spread across her face again. “Seriously. I have come to terms with my scars, and they’re part of who I am now. They show my battle and how much I’ve overcome. I know you could take them away with one flick of your power, but I won’t be ashamed of my journey.”

  Rocking back on my heels, I looked at her again, with different eyes. Ones that were not just seeing my own guilt. She had always been strong, willing to fight the good fight against the sols, but now she was so much more. She was a warrior, forged in fire, coming out stronger on the other side.

  “You not only survived,” I said softly. “You have flourished. You’re stronger than I could ever be, and your scars do not detract from you in any way.”

  “Beautiful and strong,” Yael agreed, stopping at my side. “Just like our Willa.”

  Evie shot him a look. “I get suspicious when gods are nice to me, but since you Abcurses have learned to love a dweller”—she looked at me—“you must be one of the good ones.”

  Yael leaned down and pressed a kiss to my head. “Dweller, sol, god … what’s the real difference?”

  Emmy cleared her throat. “Thankfully Cyrus is not here to answer that question with something insulting.”

  We all laughed, because his arrogance was almost endearing.

  After that we focussed on helping Evie with her task. It took no time for Rome to pry the sol from the cooler area, and then the progression of food being loaded into the many bullsen carts that were waiting off the side of the kitchen went much faster.

  We left Evie to her task then, returning to Cyrus, Coen, and Aros. “She is so strong and confident,” I murmured to Emmy. “I’m not sure I could bounce back like that after almost dying from burns.”

  “We all have scars, Will,” Emmy told me. “Hers are just more visible than most others.”

  “She looks amazing,” I said, voice low and trembling. “The only thing that bothers me about her scars is that I was the one responsible. I wish she’d let me heal her.”

  Siret hugged me close before he ran a hand across my cheek. “She is healed. It was very clear that she was strong and whole. If her scars don’t define her, don’t let them define you. It wasn’t your fault; you were not in control of your powers because of what happened with us and with Cyrus being in your head. This is not your guilt to own.”

  I decided he was right. I’d tried to fix my mistake, but it turned out that there was nothing left to fix. So I could be okay with what had happened.

  Evie was as badass as ever.

  When we reached the fence again, the line was moving once more. Cyrus looked bored as he watched those passing by, causing more than one to cry as they dashed past. When Emmy was close, his gaze turned to her, and warmth imbued his beautiful, cold features. He looked at her the same way the Abcurses looked at me, and no one should settle for a love that was anything less than that.

  Cyrus swept an arm around Emmy, dragging her to him. “What took you so long?” I heard him murmur, but he didn’t let her answer because his lips landed hard on hers in a dominating kiss.

  I turned away from them to find Coen’s gaze. “You okay, baby?” he asked, reading something in my face. I stepped into him, letting his warmth surround me as he hugged me tightly.

  “I saw Evie,” I murmured against him. “I offered to fix her burns, but she said they’re part of who she is now. That she wears them with pride.”

  He rubbed my back while I talked, and I let his touch soothe away the last of my guilt.

  “You’re one of the best people I know,” he told me when I pulled back. “You would never hurt an innocent being. You make all of us better.”

  “Not me,” Cyrus said from nearby. “No one does anything to me.”

  He let out an oomph as Emmy punched him in the side. “Except Emmy,” he coughed out. “Emmy definitely makes me better.”

  Emmy and I exchanged a grin, but before I could say anything more, a small man pushed through the crowds and hurried right up to us.

  Until this point we’d been standing a little apart from the main crowd. Off to the side, keeping an eye on things—most sols and dwellers were maintaining a respectful distance, while watching us very closely.

  This man stopped only two feet from Cyrus. “I found him!” he exclaimed immediately. “There is one holy leader left in the city. He’s heading this way now for your ceremony.”

  Emmy grew very silent then, her eyes locked on Cyrus. I was trying to figure out what the hell Cyrus would need a holy leader for. What ceremony was this little man talking about?

  He hurried off before I could ask, and I joined Emmy in staring at Cyrus. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this?” she asked softly. “We’re already joined in every important way of the gods.”

  The look on Cyrus’s face just about took my breath away, because it was filled with so much of everything … for Emmy.

  “We need to be joined in the ways of your people as well,” he told her. “Because it’s important to you. And that makes it important to me.”

  It finally clicked then: marriage. He wanted to marry Emmy because of the time I joked about it being important for my sister’s honour.

  Siret and Yael stepped into my line of sight then, blocking out Cyrus and Emmy. They were joined by Coen, Rome, and Aros a moment later. “Us too,” Yael said fiercely. “We will be bonded in the ways of the dwellers as well.”

  I choked on my laughter, and confusion spread across the Abcurses’ faces. They probably thought I’d be crying at their proposal.

  Truth was, there was a burning in my throat and eyes that indicated I was about to lose my emotional shit, but the laughter came from the simple fact that I couldn’t wait to see this holy sol’s face when he realised I was marrying five guys. That was not a done thing in Minatsol. We might actually give him a heart attack.

  The guys caught my thoughts then, and their grins were both amused and satisfied. They pressed in closer to me, their power and our bond enough to make my knees feel a little weak.

  Rome kissed me first, his lips almost crushing in their strength as our mouths fused. I loved the power of his embrace. He handed me to Coen, who sent pain licking across my skin. Not as much as the last time, which was good because it was a very public place, but enough to have my breath coming out in short, sharp exhales.

  Siret kissed me lightly, his tongue stroking across mine. He tasted so damn good and I was getting dizzy as Aros took over. Pleasure hit me hard, and I was grateful when he pulled his power back a little, finishing the kiss with a gentle press of lips to the corner of my mouth.

  Yael was last. And for once he didn’t dominate me. He just nipped at my bottom lip before drawing it into his mouth. When I was finally released, I was almost desperate to get the five of them naked... until the loud chattering of nearby voices reminded me that
we were not alone. When I peeked out between Rome and Aros, I saw that the guys had blocked the dwellers and sols from seeing what we were doing. Whichever ones were not kissing me had stepped up to hide us from view, giving me privacy with each of them.

  Their consideration toward me never wavered.

  Suddenly I couldn’t wait for the holy man to arrive.

  Nineteen

  The holy leader turned out to be someone of very advanced life-cycles. His face was a map of wrinkles and sun spots, hair no more than a few white tufts on top, but his eyes were bright, his stance strong and sure. He looked to be at peace in a way I’d rarely seen from a sol. They were always striving to be more, better, stronger. To be noticed by the gods.

  But this holy man did not appear even slightly awed by us; instead he regarded us in the same way he did everyone he passed.

  When he stopped before us, he looked between the eight of us. “Who here wants to be joined in marriage?” he asked, his voice a deep rumble.

  All of us lifted our hands.

  He blinked a few times before regaining his composure. With a wave of his hand, he gestured for us to step forward. “The first to be joined,” he added, when we all started to move.

  Cyrus didn’t wait for the rest of us; he half-lifted Emmy and deposited her right before the holy leader. “Do you come before me of your own free will,” the old sol immediately asked Emmy, ignoring the glare from the Neutral God who could kill him with one thought.

  “I do come of my own free will,” Emmy told him, reaching out to clasp the hand he had offered her. “I choose to join my life in every way to Cyrus.”

  “Mine,” Cyrus added. “Emmanuelle is mine always.”

  The holy man blinked again before he looked between the pair, probably trying to figure out what he was seeing here. “Gods do not normally wed,” he told them. “I’m not sure what vows you want me to say?”

  “The normal ones,” Cyrus told him. “We want the normal ones.”

  The holy man opened his thin arms, the long robes he wore hanging off them. He reached into a pocket of his robe, pulling free a slender book. The cover was blue with gilded edges, and I saw Emmy’s eyes light up as she eyed it. It was fitting that they’d be married by a holy man holding a book.

  He flipped through the pages until he found the one he wanted, then he held it before him as he spoke. “We are gathered here this sun-cycle to join Cyrus and Emmanuelle in a bond that will stand above all others. Marriage. These two will live and work together, share their burdens and revel in their joys. From this sun-cycle forth, no other will stand between them.” He turned to Emmy then. “Emmanuelle, do you promise to love and cherish Cyrus from this sun-cycle forth, forsaking all others.”

  Emmy’s smile was breathtaking. “I do.”

  “And do you promise to support Cyrus in sickness and health, through good and bad times, for all of your sun-cycles.”

  Emmy was staring at Cyrus now, her face luminous. “I do.”

  The holy man repeated the questions for Cyrus, and he answered without taking his eyes from Emmy.

  “I bless this union,” the holy leader finished. “With the gods in our presence as witnesses, then you are married.”

  Cyrus and Emmy kissed, and it was hot and fierce and sweet. I let out a little sigh, my happiness reaching almost peak level then. My sister was so in love, and despite his flaws, I couldn’t imagine anyone better suited to her than Cyrus.

  The holy leader then turned to us, and I realised that we were attracting a lot of attention now. Sols and dwellers had stopped trying to get through the gates and instead were gawking, stunned by the fact that gods were in the midst of a ceremony usually only dwellers performed. Sols thought they were too good to be tied to one being, and their first love was the gods, so there was always someone coming between them.

  Marriage was a dweller thing.

  The man settled his gaze on me. “To which man are you entering into this ceremony with?”

  I pointed to Coen. “Him.” Just as a little breath of relief fled the man, I shifted my finger to Rome, Aros, Yael, and Siret. “And him, and him, and him, and him.”

  Cyrus snorted and Emmy’s face turned suddenly red from the effort to not laugh. I ignored them, because it was hard enough to keep my own expression in check.

  “And do you … do you … do you come before me of you own free will?”

  “Yes,” I replied.

  “Then we are gathered here to join this woman with … these men … in a bond that will stand above all others. They will live and work together, share their burdens and revel in their joys. From this sun-cycle forth, no other will stand between them.” Taking a deep breath, as though afraid he would be stripped of his holy duties if he performed our ceremony, he turned to me. “Do you promise to love and cherish these men, forsaking all others? And do you all promise to support them in sickness and in health, through good and bad times, for all of your sun-cycles?”

  “Yep,” I answered. Siret nudged me. “Yes,” I amended, emulating Emmy’s formal tone. “I do.”

  He took another deep breath. I could see a little bead of sweat on his forehead. “And you …” He flicked his attention from Siret, to Rome, to Coen, Aros, and then Yael. “Do you all promise to love and cherish this woman, forsaking all others? And do you all promise to support her in sickness and in health, through good and bad times, for all of your sun-cycles?”

  “I do,” they all answered in unison, as Rome and Siret captured my hands.

  The holy leader glanced around, swallowing nervously at the crowd that we were gathering. He cleared his throat once, and then twice.

  “I bless this union,” he finally said. “With the gods in our presence as witnesses, you are married.”

  “What do people usually do once they’re married?” Yael asked as we all stepped onto the barge to take us over to Blesswood.

  We were accompanied by all of the Original Gods that had helped to coordinate the mass evacuation to Blesswood: Abil, Adeline, Terrance, Ciune, Lorda, Haven, and Gable. We had done a last sweep of Soldel before boarding the barge—everyone else was already on Blesswood. As large as the island was, it hadn’t been designed to hold so many people, so Cyrus and Emmy had gone over earlier to set up a small pocket. They were herding several hundred dwellers into Topia and settling them into the Garden of Everlasting, where they might be somewhat protected. Even with those people taken care of, the island was still overflowing. The sols and dwellers had filled every room, cave, and field in Blesswood, and were spilling out onto the edges of the island, by the water. I wasn’t sure if Cyrus’s pocket would be powerful enough to take any more people over to Topia, so I would have to do the best I could to make my own pocket large enough to protect everyone on the island before the server armies arrived.

  “Willa?” Yael’s voice brought me back from my stressful thoughts, and I glanced over at him. “What do people do after they’re married?” he repeated.

  “They move into the same hut,” I replied. “They set up their home.”

  He frowned, exchanging a look with the others. We were far enough away from everyone else on the barge that we could speak privately, but Coen still lowered his voice when he spoke.

  “Where do you want to live, baby?”

  I blinked. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “Somewhere near Emmy,” I decided. “And Cyrus. And maybe … Abil and Adeline, too? I would like to spend more time with Jakan, to get to know him. And I want to figure out a way to help Donald … to make her a little more my mother and a little less Staviti’s server.”

  “So, Topia then?” Siret asked, arching a brow. “Not Minatsol?”

  I hadn’t even realised that Minatsol was an option, but as soon as the word was out of Siret’s mouth, I was shaking my head.

  “No … dwellers and sols spend their lives fighting to get to Topia. To become more powerful. To reach eternal life. I think … I think I’d like to stay here. I have no interest in being
the most powerful being in the worlds. I belong here.”

  “And we belong where you are,” Aros said.

  I saw our lives, then, in a flash of sudden clarity. It wasn’t a vision—but more like a hope. Their questions had opened up possibilities to me that I hadn’t even thought were available, and with them, my blank vision of the future grew form. I saw the winding steps leading up to Champions Peak, and the wave-whipped mountainside. I could taste the salt air and hear the laughter of the people I loved.

  “The Peak is pretty big…,” I ventured cautiously, but they had already seen the vision in my head. Their eyes were glazed over, their expressions ranging from pleasure to surprise.

  “It’s perfect,” Coen whispered. “We will have to clean up the ruin of the main building and rebuild it ourselves. We can make it ours. It’s in neither a sol city nor a dweller town.”

  “It’s perfect,” Siret agreed. “And I think the others will follow us there.”

  “We can start a new community,” I said wistfully. “Dwellers, gods, sols, servers, and creators … all living equally.”

  Whatever their reply might have been was cut off as the barge bobbed against the Blesswood dock, and the gathered people parted to make room for us.

  “Give Willa and the Knights room!” Cyrus boomed, herding the people back a little farther.

  As much as I regretted his tone, I was also equal parts grateful that he was stopping them from crowding me as I attempted to figure out my next task, and amused of his use of the Abcurses’ new last name. It was a novelty to them, having a true last name. My last name. As soon as I had given it to the holy leader, he had raised his eyes to mine, studying me intently.

  “Knight was the family name of the last ruling family of Minatsol,” he had told me. “It is a good name.”

  In that moment, he seemed to forget all of his reservations about our marriage, and he happily signed the paperwork with my last name repeated six times. I didn’t tell him that I was a member of that final ruling family—that I was, in fact, the heir. The grandchild of the last king and queen. The … princess …