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54
We end up staying in Novoro for a few more days to rest up our woales and to rebuild our supplies. The Novorans are totally fine with this. They want to continually celebrate Aron’s presence in their midst, so another banquet is thrown.
This time, Aron won’t let me leave his rooms. He makes Yule
I’m a terrible person, because I’m secretly pleased at how disgusted he is at their idea of a good time. It just means he won’t be tempted. Not that we’re together…but in my mind, he belongs to me and the thought of him touching another woman makes me want to scratch her eyes out.
And then scratch his eyes out too, just for good measure.
After that evening, though, the Novorans wise up to the fact that Aron isn’t on board with their way of partying, and the celebrations change into a several-days-long fighting tournament. Again, not something I can really participate in, and Aron gets weird whenever someone looks at me, so I stay inside. I can see the fighting in the courtyard below and Aron is in the mix with the Novorans, clearly enjoying himself.
He always wins, too. I’m pretty sure they let him win—who wants to be the one to beat a god?—but he enjoys himself nevertheless and so we stay at Novoro for longer.
This means Yule
Since we’re spending so much time in our room together, Markos, Solat, Kerren and Vitar spend a lot of time with us, too. They watch us in shifts, one man at Aron’s side at all times, two at our door, and one resting, so someone is always on guard.
I get to know them pretty well, too, and after a while it’s like spending time with old friends. Solat ends up being the life of the party, sitting with us, flirting with Yule
This particular day starts out like any other. Aron heads off to enjoy the tournament, which means Yule
The image of him sniveling in hiding while holding his junk? I admit, it’s pretty fu
Aron storms in, sweaty and dirty from the tournaments. He sees us laughing, and Solat’s feet are kicked up on one of the decorative tables. I’m the first one to see Aron come through the door, and my laughter dies in my throat at the furious look on his face.
Solat has his back to him. He gives me a disarming wink. “You needn’t worry about my balls, Faith. I assure you they’re all in one place.
“Not for long,” Aron growls behind him.
The color drains from Solat’s face. He jumps to his feet, back stiffening. “My lord.”
Aron immediately moves in front of my chair, as if he’s blocking me from Solat’s sight. “Are you flirting with Faith?” His hands flex, and I realize he’s inches away from pulling his sword. “Is this what goes on in my chambers when I am away?”
Oh shit.
Solat goes pale. “My lord…no. I would never…she is yours!”
Yule
Because we’re mortals. It’s what mortals do.
But Aron is a god, and I’m his anchor. He doesn’t understand human friendship, any more than he understands sleep, and he would just as easily kill Solat as breathe.
I get to my feet, because I realize that I can’t have friends—at least not male ones—because Aron’s jealous. It’s a human emotion and he doesn’t know how to handle that shit.
He’s not human. I can’t assume he’s going to act like one.
“Time out,” I say cheerfully, and head to Aron’s side. I can practically see the flop-sweat on Solat’s brow as he tries not to shake. He knows he’s fucked up somehow, just by being too friendly. In a way, I can’t even blame him. Judging from his stories, Solat has always made his way by being charming and ingratiating until he got chased off.
He doesn’t realize that Aron won’t chase him off—he’ll just cut his head off without a thought.
“What is time out?” Aron asks, frowning at me. He plants his feet when I grab his arm, ignoring the electric shock between us.
I tug again, unwilling to be ignored, and he relents, letting me drag him away. I need to get him out of the room so he doesn’t kill Solat for breathing the wrong way—and then killing the others for being upset that he killed Solat. I can see it turning into an awful domino effect. It’s weird, too, because I feel protective of our small group. Even though I haven’t known them for long, I feel so much older and wiser than they are, strangely enough. Being around Aron gives me a different perspective, and while they’re just looking at this as an adventure serving a god, my everything hangs in the balance.
This could be my life and my afterlife, because what happens to me if I die while I’m here and tied to Aron?
The moment I shut the door behind us and we’re alone, I forget all about afterlives and my world, because it’s clear that Aron’s furious. He pulls away from me with a jerk and his hands are clenched as he paces the bedroom.
“What’s crawled up your ass?” I demand. My temper’s flaring, too. “Why are you being such a dick?”
“He was flirting with you,” Aron says, gesturing indignantly. “Laughing with you! And you were laughing back!”
“I was having a good time! Why is that a crime?”
He stalks toward me, his eyes so intense I can practically see the lightning crackling off of him. “You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” His voice is low and smooth, even if the words are deadly.
I arch a brow, determined to look cool and collected. What is he talking about? “What is it that you think I’m doing? I’m curious.”
His eyes glare lightning into mine. “You are trying to make me jealous.”
My jaw drops. “Are you serious? With Solat?” I laugh at that. “Yeah, no. He’s not my type.”
Aron goes very still. “Which one is your type, then?”
I swallow hard, because that feels like a loaded question. Not for me, but for whoever I answer. If I tell him I find Markos sweet and gallant and that he’s got great hair, is Aron going to go out there and kill him? Or that Kerren’s blushes are adorable?
Is he going to murder his way through half the country if I enjoy myself around other people? I don’t know how to deal with a jealous god, and I swallow hard as I’m reminded that Aron isn’t the god of puppies and warm hugs. He’s a god of battle. It’s in his nature to pick a fight.
And because he’s a god, he’s going to win, every time.
“I’m not going to answer that,” I say slowly, determined to defuse the situation. “But no, I am not trying to make you jealous. You’ve already said we can’t be anything, even if I wanted to be.”
He moves closer.
I instinctively lean back against the door, as if it’ll save me from his advancement. Aron’s inches away, and he’s so intense I can feel energy crackling between us.
He stops a breath away from me, looming. There’s an intense look on his face and I should be terrified, but I’m not. I’m utterly turned on. “You are not trying to make me wild with hunger for you, then?” he murmurs, a deadly calm in his voice, as if he’s close to his control snapping. “You’re not trying to make me give in and touch you?”
I lick my suddenly dry lips. “I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you absolutely insisted—”
Aron looks down at my dress, which is in the Novoran style. It’s low cut with only an artful corset to keep the drapery in place. With a breath, he could have his hand in the front of my gown.
And we’re both extremely aware of it.
“You mortals,” Aron murmurs, leaning in so close that I can feel his breath fan against my face. “You are so bad at saying what you want. I think you do want me to touch you. You just won’t admit it.”
He’s right. I don’t want to admit how much I need him to touch me right now. Saying “yes, please touch me” would give him all kinds of power over me. He’d hold it over my head. He’d remind me of it constantly. He’s so arrogant that I don’t want him to have one over me.
But god, I want him to touch me.
“Admit it, Faith.”
“I admit nothing.” My voice has a wobble in it.
“Not even the truth?” The tip of Aron’s nose brushes against mine, and he’s so close I can see each thick, dark eyelash that frames his intense gaze. “You won’t ask? Not even to receive the pleasure you know I can give you?”
That makes me quiver all over. Oh Jesus, he is way too good at this game.
Aron leans in closer, and his lips are practically against mine as he speaks. I feel them move, forming the words he says, soft and slow. “Shall I touch you?”
I whimper, unable to fight it any longer. “God, yes.”