Psycho Gods: Enemies to Lovers Romance

FLYING

Ethereal (adjective): extremely delicate and light.

A warm breeze blew through my curls as I whooped aloud with joy.

Fresh grass and sweet florals filled my nose.

Crystalline wings flapped behind me as I spun higher into the air. The weight of my wings was a comforting presence that felt right, as opposed to crushing.

I was built to take to the sky.

It was my destiny.

The rising sun kissed my rosy cheeks, and morning fog gave everything a whimsical quality. Goats, sheep, and miniature ponies trotted about without a care in the world.

The sunshine was golden and hazy.

Life felt like a watercolor painting.

Bubbles of excitement jumped in my stomach as I twisted onto my back and spread my wings wide, then lazily spiraled toward the land.

Again and again, I flew toward the heavens, then turned, and drifted back down.

Flying was better than anything I could have ever imagined, and there were no words that could capture the feeling of pure euphoria.

It felt like freedom tasted.

For the first time in my life, I was completely, exquisitely, and wonderfully alive.

When my lungs strained and sweat dotted my brow, I landed gently in a soft patch of sun-warmed grass. Fog wrapped around my ankles in a caress as I walked across the rolling hills toward the stately tree I’d claimed yesterday as mine.

Its sweeping branches cast a welcoming shade.

Collapsing onto my pastel blanket, I lay on my back and marveled at the sensation of stillness after exertion. My flowy white silk pants and top were cool against my warm skin.

I closed my eyes and dug my toes into the grass.

Blood pounding through my veins, I spread my arms wide, wings fanned out beneath me as I embraced the stillness.

Tipping my head back, I swore I could feel the realm spinning.

I sighed with relief.

Ice spread across my fingertips.

Here—in a faraway countryside—I was nothing but a woman in a field with pastel ribbons in my blue curls.

A small pang of emptiness stabbed my heart.

I gasped.

Closed my eyes.

For a terrible second, I felt despair. A piece of my soul was permanently missing, and I was never going to get it back.

I struggled to inhale.

My throat seized.

I opened my eyes. Golden sunshine and the peaceful sounds of nature helped chase away the panic attack.

I pressed my hands over my heart.

Warmth strummed inside my chest as five mate bonds filled what once had been broken.

I didn’t lose a piece of my soul, I gained five new ones.

I was going to be okay.

I exhaled shakily and soaked in the rich colors of the present.

Time passed at a lazy pace. All was exactly as it was supposed to be.

“Aran!” Malum yelled angrily as he walked toward me across the hills.

He cut a fine figure, his wide shoulders and impressive thighs on display in his loose button-down shirt, tan riding pants, and knee-high boots.

It was a good look for him.

The scarlet flames on his shoulders appeared significantly less fearsome with a miniature pony whinnying and neighing as it ran beside him. It cut him off as it sprinted toward some ducks.

I laughed as he stared at the small creature with exasperation.

As he got closer, I arched my brow expectantly.

He panted like he’d been sprinting and said, “I panicked when I woke up and all the men were there—but you weren’t. I thought we went over this yesterday? It’s not safe for you to fly yet. You’re still missing a lot of feathers. We need to visit the angel realm and have you checked by a doctor.”

Endorphins made my head light, so instead of arguing, I smiled at him indulgently. “I’m fine. Also, if you recall, I fell asleep before I agreed to anything.”

He glared at me.

Flames multiplied across his shoulders.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I can feel the missing feathers when I try to fly fast, but if I go slowly and use the air currents, I’m one hundred percent in control.” I patted the space beside me on the blanket. “Have a seat and chill. The weather’s divine.”

I retracted my wings so he’d have space.

Malum stared at the pastel cloth with trepidation, then gingerly lowered himself beside me.

I yawned and draped my arm across my eyes.

I’d woken up with the overwhelming urge to fly.

“It is nice out,” Malum said gruffly.

I moved my arm and squinted at his stiff figure. “Lie back and stay a while. Why are you so rigid?”

“What do you mean?” he asked with confusion.

I yawned again. “Have you never just lain down under a tree and enjoyed the stillness of this landscape? For sun god’s sake, it’s like living in a painting.”

Malum’s cheeks turned pink, and he shook his head like he was embarrassed by the thought of leisure.

“Lie down,” I said, and satisfaction filled me as he sprawled out beside me.

He grimaced.

“Now just stare up at the leaves and flowers and enjoy how they flutter on the breeze.”

I loved that I was giving out life advice like I’d mastered mental health.

It was called being delusional.

This morning, I’d had a panic attack in the bathroom because I’d remembered the twins now had slurs on their backs. We were all mutilated.

Now, I stared up at nature like it could save me.

I focused on the good. The scenery was stunning, and I could fly with ease. Exercise endorphins coursed through me.

I ignored the bad.

Malum squinted at the tree like he had to concentrate on following my instructions, and I laughed at his ridiculous expression.

“What?” he asked defensively. “I’m watching the leaves like you said.”

“It’s not that serious.” I watched a bird flit between flowers.

Time passed.

It was much slower than usual.

There was no warping, no twisting.

I felt a million miles away from my memories of the war. My time at Elite Academy felt like a bad dream. The ungodly didn’t seem real.

“What are you thinking about?” Malum broke the peaceful silence, and instead of watching the leaves, he stared at me.

“How nice it is here,” I whispered, “I feel like I’m dreaming.”

He stared at my lips. “Me too,” he whispered as he inched closer.

Whiskey and tobacco were softened by the sunny, floral scents of summer.

Our fingers touched, and there was a sizzling sound. Cobalt fire spread onto his fingers, and scarlet ice coated mine.

It didn’t hurt.

The alchemy law of extremes: At its hottest temperature, fire mimics the properties of ice. At its coldest temperature, ice mimics the properties of fire.

It struck me just how similar we were.

We were so perfectly in opposition that we were the same.

It didn’t seem like an accident.

It felt like the universe itself had conspired to create us.

Apparently, my antithesis was a flaming homicidal man who breathed fire, had obsession issues, and owned ponies with bows.

It checked out.

“What do we do now?” Malum asked softly.

I stretched my hands above my head. “We lie here and do nothing all day. No war. No training. No stress.”

We were all soldiers without a war.

We knew who we were in times of extreme duress, but we didn’t know who we were in peace.

It was time to discover ourselves.

Silver eyes twinkled. Malum stared at my face like he was memorizing my features. “Can we talk, like we did before?” he asked self-consciously.

His cheeks blushed pink.

The warmth in my chest flared, and I smiled like a fool. “I’d like that,” I whispered. “What do you want to know?”

His expression was serious. “Everything. What’s your favorite hobby? What do you love to do most? I want to know every single thing about my Revered.”

Crossing my arm beneath my curls, I stared up at the trees and told him about how I used to love fashion. I explained how different materials could make beautiful designs. Once again, I admitted things to him that I’d never told anyone.

I told him how I’d made Mother’s gossamer silk dress.

How I’d sneak into the kitchen and help curate different enchanted wines.

Our conversation changed. I told him how the half warriors were my first friends. I told him how my mother made me hurt them. How they hated me for it. I told him about the role they played in mother carving my back.

I admitted that a small part of me thought I deserved the punishment because of how I’d treated them.

When I said that, Malum recoiled like he’d been hit. “No,” he rasped harshly. “They were grown men, and you were a child. They knew about your mother’s cruelty, and yet they blamed you.”

I sighed. “It’s not that simple. They thought I betrayed them.”

He reached over and tangled our fingers together. “Listen to me, Aran.” His expression was dire. “It’s the most obvious thing in the entire world that you are softhearted and nothing like your mother.”

I scoffed.

He shook my hand.

“I’m being dead serious,” he said. “They blamed you because they wanted someone to hate. Someone they could bully. They couldn’t do that with your mother.”

I gnawed on my lower lip as I considered his words.

“Can we not talk about it anymore,” I whispered.

“Of course,” he said.

“Let’s just enjoy the nature.” I breathed deeply and reveled in the warm scents of summer.

He squeezed my hand three times.

An hour later, I shifted self-consciously because he was staring at me again.

“What?” I asked.

He propped his head on his hand. “Do you know how unique you are?” He wet his lower lip. “Aran.”

I pursed my lips and tried to hide my smile at how liberally he was using my name.

“You’re just realizing how special I am, Corvus?” His name felt weirdly intimate on my lips.

He leaned his head over and whispered against the sensitive shell of my ear, “Say it again.”

“Mitch?” I played dumb.

He lunged and tickled my sides. I gasped and shrieked as I kicked against him with futility.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

“No.” Gasp. “You have to.” Gasp. “Earn it.”

He stuck out his bottom lip and pouted. “Come on, Aran.” He stopped tickling me.

“I’m not falling for it.” I flopped over and lay on my stomach, eyes closing with exhaustion.

He gave me a gentle kiss on my forehead.

When I leaned in for more, he pulled back with a playful smile. “With time, darling,” he drawled.

I rolled my eyes.

This was the same man who’d pulled his pants down and fucked everyone he could at Elite Academy. The same man who wrapped his hand around my neck and pinned me to my bunk bed. For sun god’s sake, he’d almost taken me in a public dressing room.

Apparently fighting in war had transformed him from a pervert to a prude. Distressing.

I wanted to demand that he ravage me. However, I didn’t want to ruin the peaceful vibes that had settled around us.

A long moment passed, then a heavy weight settled across my back.

He’d repositioned himself to sleep and had tossed his arm over me. “So we’re really just going to lie here and sleep all day?” he asked skeptically. “Even after we just slept all night?”

“Yep,” I smiled. “It’s called relaxing.”

He pressed his side against mine, body heat warming me through our clothes. “Sounds good, Aran.”

Birds chirped above us, and the leaves rustled.

The air was pleasantly warm.

Everything was golden.

I smirked into the pastel blanket. “Keep it up and I just might forgive you in the next decade, Corvus.”

He stopped breathing. Every muscle in his body tensed and he asked slowly, “Do you mean it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “You just have to shower me with gifts and prove you’re not an ass for the next decade.”

“Done.” He tickled my side.

“You’re ridiculous,” I squealed as I kicked at him.

He tipped his head back and laugh, “And you’re mine, Aran.”

The warm feeling inside my heart expanded, and it felt like I was flying.

“That means you’re also mine, Corvus.” I rolled his proper name on my tongue.

He buried his face in the blanket and groaned. “Fuck, you’re driving me insane. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He said it like it was a problem.

“Then, don’t,” I said. “Ravage me.”

A soft snore echoed, and I flopped back with a sigh.

He was already asleep.

He hadn’t heard me.