Page 41 of Courting War
Revenge.
Theo repeated the words in her head until she got up the nerve to stand up. Facing the champion, she sucked in a shaking breath. Theo’s plans required her to rescue the mortal.
“I hate you,” she whispered to the statue. The only way to break a gorgon curse was with the most disgusting of acts. Theo would’ve chosen any other tithe for the magic—pain, torture, sorrow, even laughter. She’d even welcome a slight maiming, but a slight maiming wasn’t in the cards.
No. Only unadulterated passion broke the gorgon’s curse.
Theo sighed. He was far too tall. Godly even. She huffed and gathered three long, thick tombs and stacked them in front of him. She’d never be able to reach him without them. Then she climbed them carefully and clutched the champion’s stone cheeks between her hands and tightly closed her eyes, bracing for a bitter taste.
Tentatively, standing on her tiptoes and trying to balance—geez, the foolish mortal was tall—she placed her lips on his. Theosucked in a breath, and all her muscles went rigid. Counting to ten, she longed for this horrid moment to be over. When she hit the number seven, rock gave way to flesh, and her mouth lurched away, the books rocking beneath her. It wouldn’t be enough to free him but turning the kiss into the level of passion needed to break the spell without his permission felt horribly wrong.
Theo scrunched her face and sent a silent plea to the heavens for forgiveness, her gaze touching the black shadows of the library ceiling.
The champion sputtered, and his eyes widened.
Before making the moment even more awkward or wasting time, Theo asked, “May I kiss you passionately?” She croaked out the last word. It tasted like molasses on her tongue. Sticky and far too sweet.
The towering champion—whose face was the only portion of him freed from stone—stared at her like she spoke the language of the gods. Still, Theo was sure she’d spoken the common tongue . . . although she couldn’t be sure of anything anymore, especially with humans. Theo was rotten at talking to them. It was perhaps her greatest weakness. Humans were far too complicated and full of unwanted feelings.
“Wha—what?” He stuttered, confusion and an emotion Theo didn’t understand lighting up his features.
“It’s the only way to break the spell. Pure passion.” Theo crossed her arms protectively over her chest. She didn’t want to do this either. “Medusa turned you into a statue, and kissing is the only way to break the curse.”
“What?” He repeated.
Theo loosed a growl. “We don’t have time for this.”
As if conjured by her words, stone clawed back up his neck.
“Oh, gods,” he breathed. “Yes, do what you have to.” He croaked the last bit out as limestone clung to his lips, fastening them shut again.
Standing nearly on pointe, Theo tried to reach the correct angle of attack. Perhaps it’d work better if she imagined it as a war—a battle with tactics and strategy.
After all, shewasWar.
Gently, as if coaxing a trapped beast, Theo placed her lips back on his. Her fingers slid over his hair, and she stroked the nape of his neck the way she’d stroke her sword.
Battle . . . she could do battle.
The stone disintegrated from his mouth much faster this time, leaving their flesh mingling. But their lips merely hovered over each other’s, neither wanting to move or deepen the kiss. But if they were to break the curse, then they needed passion.
Unfiltered, untamed, animal passion.
Theo swallowed and closed her eyes, digging her fingers into his scalp as she opened her mouth and began to move. She moderated her pressure and tried to get him to join her, to fall into her, but he stood stiff and frozen like a tundra.
Rotten ambrosia, Theo cursed, her eyes opening and staring at the shelves behind the gentleman.
The cast over his body only cracked to the top of his pectoral muscles and refused to move any lower. Itwas notworking.
Not like this.
“You have to kiss me back,” she breathed into his lips. “I know it’s unpleasant. Trust me, I don’t want to do this either, but we have to.”
To illustrate her point, Theo ran her tongue along his lower lip and tempted him to open to her.
Waking from his daze, the champion moved his mouth. At first, he was hesitant and shy, but when she dipped her tongue into his mouth, a hunger awoke. He had to get inventive with his arms still locked to his sides. His mouth and teeth telling his story. He bit her lip, and tension pulled like a tightrope between them.
Theo laughed into his mouth, the war goddess in her coming alive under his fervent assaults. It awoke her passion. War was a haunting dance, and kissing could be, too.
