Page 83 of Courting War
They held their breaths, staring at the ceiling, their bodies nearly touching. Kellyn’s heart was in his throat.
He tried to distract himself from his physical urges so he asked, “Are you a god?”
It didn’t solve the awkward situation.
A hollow, timid silence settled between them. It was like the soft crashing of waves at twilight.
“No,” she whispered into the cadence of their beating hearts.
Kellyn loosed a breath. “Good, I'm growing to hate them.”
He heard her intake of breath. “Understandable.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
THEODRA
Enraged Ex-God
INFIRMARY, CITY OF THE GODS
The smell of disinfectant and sickness hung like a noose drifting in the wind.
Theo stood vigil over the unconscious Andromedan priest, Bella still at his feet. Theo wore a fierce Theodic-styled dress with raven feathers forming the skirt and her hair tied up in warrior braids.
The boy, however, was in hospital garb and barely dressed. His skin was sickly pale compared to his normal russet-brown color. He was still uselessly unconscious, which was unfortunate because they couldn’t continue the games until he woke up.
It had already been one full day since the meeting with the other champions. Working together, they were making headway. The Teirland duo had been rescued, and the rest faced their challenges together. The teamwork added to their progress, but the games were still incredibly difficult, the gods doing all they could to kill them.
The Rougeland champion got stuck under a boulder and broke over a hundred bones, and if it weren’t for the Ertomesian champion she would have died.
Theo’s focus snapped back to the boy, who moaned in bed. She didn’t know why she cared or watched over this human. He meant nothing to her. But it was her turn.
That was it. The only possible reason she would be here.
She wasn’t softening.
It wasn’t happening.
Emmett tossed on the bed; his sleep fitful. Theo sighed and reached her hand out, feeling his forehead. It was warm, not hot like before, but she figured a cold compress wouldn’t hurt so she ran a washcloth over his head and across his chest. He was sweating.
A good sign. It meant the fever was breaking.
Theo continued her ministrations, and she noticed his body was full of scars. His arms, chest, torso, legs . . . everywhere.
Brandings, with iron and knives. Some sick fuck did this to him.
Shivers coursed through Theo’s bones, and a memory struck the back of her mind. She swallowed it down. Theo wouldn’t remember it.
Not now.
The boy moaned, and her eyes flashed to his face. Her washcloth was on the lower part of his stomach, near his slacks.
“What a present,” he croaked, “Kellyn’s beautiful priestess giving me a sponge bath.”
The boywas awake. Theo turned to yell for Cecile or Kellyn, but neither was around. So instead, she chose to keep him company. If she had just woken up from a coma, she’d want someone to talk to—to orient her to reality.
But Theo was still herself, so she said in a dark, menacing tone, “You have no idea how fortunate you are, boy.”
