Page 56 of Courting War
“Oh, yes, that,” Theo said, not knowing what to say. “She wanted to taunt me. Nothing new.” The last bit was said under her breath.
The champion grunted, clearly not knowing how to respond, and fell back into an uncomfortable silence.
They walked into the Champion’s Common Room. The hourglasses representing the champions’ lives were slowly releasing pebbles of sand, except the forest green hourglass—the Tierland hourglass. It was frozen like concrete—frozen to stone like the champion and priestess.
Theo passed the infirmary and paused at its entrance. Gods were healing their champions and talking strategy with them. In fact, almost every god was now in the Quarters, aiding their patron champion. Cecile and Emmett sat in the corner of the common room, with Andromache doing just that.
Most champions had successfully beaten their first challenge and were recuperating—all save the Tierland pair. So far, they were the only casualties. Others had been gravely injured, yet most were easily healed by their patron god.
An unfamiliar—and horrifying—feeling stirred in Theo’s blood. She didn’t quite know how to categorize it, but it certainly felt eerily like guilt or responsibility.
Theo shuddered.
She hated feeling anything—let alone something about humans.
Chapter Seventeen
KELLYN
Champion of Theoden
THEODEN’S QUARTERS, CITY OF THE GODS
Kellyn stared—glared—down at his second riddle. The key to his next challenge. Pressure did not help his affliction. It only made everything worse. The words weren’t the hardest to read . . . he thought the first word was Ivy and the fourth bane . . . but the handwritten script with twirls and loops made translating the shapes to words rough. It made making out the letters, and especially the phonemes, nearly impossible.
Morrigan sat on their bed with her knees against her chest, watching him out of the corner of her eye.
Watching, but not helping.
He tried not to look over at her, with her raven curls spilling down her chest and her indecent nightgown clingy to her every curve—and she was wonderfully curvy. The sight caused unmitigated lust to burn in his veins.
It also caused him and his body to remember their kiss and how she felt in his arms. Soft and pliant. The way she smelled like smokey vanilla, olive trees, and majestic dreams. The way she tasted like blood orange seduction. The way she—
Kellyn cleared his throat and grunted.
He needed to stop thinking about her and focus on his task. Only danger lurked there. But he’d never felt so attracted to someone in his life.
Morrigan huffed. “Fine, show it to me. I’m sick of watching you struggle.” She was still an untamable wildfire, her demeanor monstrous . . . but she’d softened a bit. A tiny bit. Ever since seeing his parents. Seeing his shame.
Kellyn gulped. “What?”
“Your riddle.”
Grunting, he held out his wrist for her to examine. As her silk fingers touched his skin, Kellyn sucked in a breath and held it. Her touch was lightning. Electric energy that felt like a mortal sin. A deadly mistake.
She stroked a thumb up his forearm, and a shiver ran through him. “It’s a haiku.” She smiled and read it to him.
“Ivy, snake, foxglove, bane
Harbinger of sickness reigns
Tormented are we”
“Poisons.”
“Yes.”
“Relatively easy riddle, don’t you think?”
