Psycho Gods: Enemies to Lovers Romance

THE WAR CAMP

Brume (noun): mist, fog.

I knelt on warm dirt as steam evaporated onto my face.

Pine needles rustled.

The new realm was colored in shades of gray.

It was depressing.

Hundreds of snow-frosted trees swayed as the therapy RJE fell silent in my hand. Condensation from steam froze across my face as I stood up.

The air was chilly, but I was colder.

A shiver racked my frame.

The tension from Dr. Palmer’s office still clung to my skin, and I concentrated on my surroundings.

All was hushed.

I’d assumed the base for a planetwide war would be enormous and filled with thousands of soldiers. That it would be loud and messy. Chaotic.

It was painfully quiet.

Only a hundred soldiers.

We were alone.

Abandoned.

I pressed my pipe between my lips and inhaled deeply, and it clattered against my teeth. Horse cawed as he circled through the snow above my head.

Squinting, I studied my crow’s feathers and tried to remember if they’d always trailed after him in such a long plumage.

He twirled lazily on a breeze and screeched his enjoyment.

I shrugged and blew out a cloud of smoke, my nose burning from the chilled air.

Glaring up at the towering white-peaked mountains that surrounded the valley, I pocketed the RJE device.

Thick snowflakes fell softly in the gray.

Storm clouds drifted through an atmosphere.

I inhaled smoke sharply and tried to forget that Lyla had lied by implication when she’d given our legions separate designations.

We weren’t here to lead an army of thousands; we were here to fight against a planet full of monsters.

We were here to suffer.

I exhaled and pretended the gods weren’t useless beings who’d abandoned us.

Snow drifted through the frigid air, then sizzled as it hit the hot ground and evaporated, and water hissed as it rose from the planet’s surface in a thick layer of fog.

Planet 003FX had an immensely hot core that heated the ground to around eighty degrees Fahrenheit and a freezing atmosphere.

At least, that was what the High Court’s informational packet said.

I said it sucked.

Freezing temperatures, perpetual falling snow, a foggy surface, and gray sky.

A boring place to die.

If I squinted, I could just barely see a tiny shimmer to the air. The High Court speculated that rare bioluminescence in the soil evaporated into the atmosphere and created the effect.

Since it was barely noticeable, I don’t know why they bothered to discuss it.

The kings followed as I walked through the war camp hidden beneath glistening heavens.

Snow-dusted trees camouflaged the camp.

I had yet to see any evidence of animals.

“Aran, you’re back.” John burst out of our legion’s designated bunker and threw his arms around me. “Thank the sun god, Luka’s in a silent mood, and he refused to laugh at any of my jokes.”

I didn’t point out that Luka was always in a silent mood; it was part of his charm. Instead, I inhaled the rich scent of sandalwood and slumped forward.

John held me up.

Snowflakes danced around us as our breath mingled in frosty puffs.

Our chests pressed together, hearts thumping in rhythm, I burrowed into his arms like I could crawl under his skin.

Disappear into his warmth.

“How was mandatory therapy? Are you okay?” John whispered in my ear.

I pressed my face deeper against his warm shoulder and groaned, “Horrible. And no.”

Arms tightened around my shoulders as he squeezed me three times in quick succession.

My heart stuttered.

I squeezed back four times as hard as I could.

His breath caught.

We both knew what it meant.

“Anything I can do to help?” John’s fingers gently tipped my chin up, and he brushed snow off my face.

“Beat me to death with a shovel,” I offered.

He chuckled, and the sound was deep and rich as he swooped down and booped my nose, holding me close as I struggled to get away.

“Is she hurt?” Luka asked behind him. “Did something happen to her face?” Unlike John’s relaxed posture, Luka was rigid.

Tense.

He was focused on the two of us.

At all times.

Luka’s dark eyes flashed with concern as he stared down at me, so I wiggled out of John’s arms and jumped to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His fingers pressed reverently against where my lips touched.

Pinpricks of pain trailed across my back. There was something so heartbreakingly sweet about Luka that it made me want to latch onto him and never let him go.

John pulled me back beneath his arm and answered his twin, “Nah.” He flashed his dimples and tried to tweak my nose again, but I ducked. “My wife is perfect.”

“Our wife,” Luka corrected.

Malum said, “She’s not your wife.”

The kings glared at the twins like they were a threat. Malum’s flaming arms were draped over Scorpius and Orion protectively.

For a few seconds, I’d forgotten they existed, and I missed that time because it was peaceful.

The devils moved together and crowded our space as Luka stepped forward protectively.

“Not our wife.” John winked dramatically. “Yet.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever you say, husband.”

My stomach swooped, and the pain intensified.

“Shut the fuck up and be quiet,” Malum snarled. “You both know the rules.”

What a sweet man. There was that sunshine and rainbows attitude everyone knew and loved.

His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping his mates for support.

Therapy had clearly mellowed him out. Not.

He needed electric shock therapy, or a lobotomy, or both.

I was willing to experiment.

John opened his mouth to speak, and the glare Malum shot at him would have brought a lesser man to his knees.

Central to the war effort was remaining undetected by the ungodly. Since the High Court didn’t know what technology the planet possessed, everyone was ordered to stay indoors as much as possible, and if you were outside, you had to be quiet.

Red flames flickered on bronze shoulders, and the snow falling around us turned into rain.

The kings stared at me with intense emotions.

I stared back with deadened eyes.

I’d stopped caring when he’d forced me to stand out under a sky that rained glass.

“You’re just calling him husband to get on our nerves,” Scorpius sneered.

I sighed heavily. “You think you’re so important. Newsflash, I’m calling him my husband—because that’s exactly what he’s going to be.” I scoffed. “Everything isn’t about you. Grow up.”

Scorpius’s razor-sharp jaw twitched, red flames multiplied, and Orion frowned at me like I’d disappointed him.

I leaned against John, and Luka rubbed my back. I smiled with contentment and said softly, “My husbands are important to me.”

The battle lines between us were clear.

Three versus three.

Scorpius grunted at my words like he’d taken a punch to the gut.

I smirked.

Of course, I was only doing it out of spite; I might be depressed, but at my core, I was a hateful bitch.

“Stop calling them that,” Malum burst out loudly, red staining his bronze cheeks as he stared at me like he was embarrassed that he couldn’t control his temper.

We were all embarrassed for him.

“Let’s go inside, husbands.” I ignored the kings. “Some people don’t know how to obey the rules of the camp.”

John flashed his dimples, and Luka grunted as I pulled them inside the room that was our legion’s sleeping bunker.

A seven-foot-tall flaming blight on the history of womankind stomped in behind us. “I told you to be quiet first,” Malum said unhelpfully.

The fact that this was him trying to grovel to me was beyond disturbing.

“And I told you to shut the fuck up and die.” I yawned. “What’s your point?”

The temperature spiked.

What could I say? The therapy session was making me feel reckless. I wanted payback.

I breathed into my cupped hands to warm them.

Malum’s fists trembled at his side, and his face exploded in scarlet flames.

Orion roughly pulled him back, and Scorpius shouted in his face, “Snap out of it! You’re in control—the fire does not control you. Breathe with me. You’re okay.”

I rolled my eyes as Scorpius talked Malum off the edge of a total inferno for what felt like the millionth time this week.

“Just to play devil’s advocate—” I chuckled at the double entendre. “—he doesn’t seem in control to me.”

Malum growled like a wild animal.

Never forget three weeks ago at the end of the Legionnaire Games when Malum said he was going to cherish and take care of me and promised it would be different.

Baby girl needs to focus on what he’s manifesting because it’s not working. I opened my mouth to tell him so, but—

“I can’t do this!” Malum screamed, and flames shot out of his mouth like a dragon. “I can’t watch you hang all over other men and call them your husbands without reacting. You’re mine.”

Eh, I’ll tell him later.

He fell to his knees.

My headache intensified.

I kicked off my heavy combat boots, lay down in my narrow bunk bed, and pulled the blankets up to my chin.

John kissed my forehead and climbed up to the top bunk. Luka gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and climbed into the bed above mine. A zip of pain traveled down my spine.

Fondness spread through me.

All three of us sighed.

Our new bedroom was low, narrow, and sparse, with a single window that had a view of the trees. A sliver of mountain was visible if you pressed your face against the glass and looked to the left.

Yes, my cheek print was still on the glass from looking.

The space also had matching three-person bunk beds on the walls going longways and a two-person bunk that framed the window. A narrow dresser in the corner had eight drawers, one for each of us, and a laughably small bathroom with barely any room to move.

Overall, it was sufficient.

Better than a wall in front of a toilet and a broken cot.

“You can’t be with them.” Flames swallowed Malum whole in the center of the room, and Scorpius grimaced as he held on to his crazed mate.

Orion glared at the twins like it was their fault.

The room sizzled with heat.

I snuggled deeper into bed and enjoyed the cozy warmth as my chilly skin thawed. Malum made a nice bonfire.

I’d been surprised by how accepting the kings had been of the twins over these last few weeks. I’d gaslit myself into thinking just maybe they weren’t totally insane.

Glad we’d cleared that up.

Malum having a total meltdown felt right. The failed therapy sessions and close proximity didn’t help. Neither did a looming war.

From what I’d gathered, the kings were desperate to prove to the sun god that they were worthy kings, and they were devastated that they wouldn’t have an army to back them.

I also would have been depressed if I was passionate about winning.

Good thing I was depressed for other reasons.

“You should probably cry about it more,” I said to Malum, who was still fully on fire. “That will definitely help the situation.”

Yes, I was being a raging bitch to the kings whenever I could, which objectively wasn’t helping the situation; however, subjectively, it was making me feel better.

A win-win.

Flames roared.

“He’s not wrong,” Scorpius sneered as he gripped his lunatic of a mate. “At the end of the day, you’re our Revered. You’re fated to be with us—not them. You need to grow up and stop pretending. You’re already one of us.”

Orion nodded in agreement, and light pink petals drifted across his neck as captivating brown eyes glinted with anger.

I yawned sleepily.

Who was going to tell them I was way too fashionable to be one of them? Our lifestyles had a fundamental conflict—I wanted to lie in the sun all day and do nothing, and they wanted to kill things for fun. I wanted to nap under a tree as a warm breeze rustled my hair, and Malum wanted to set the tree on fire and scream at it.

I shuddered.

We were never going to work.

Luka draped his hand down over the side of the bunk, and I threaded my fingers through his. The only good thing about the suffocatingly close bunks was we could easily reach one another.

I’d gotten used to waking up with a numb arm.

I needed Luka’s touch because nightmares stalked me when I closed my eyes, and his grip was my only tether to reality.

“As your Ignis, I order you to break off your engagement,” Malum snarled harshly.

A callused thumb brushed back and forth against the back of my hand comfortingly.

I snuggled deeper into my covers and said, “As the hole in the room—I order you to stop ordering me around.”

Sleep pulled me under, because unlike the plush beds at Elite Academy, my mattress was hard as a rock. I loved it.

“You’re not just a hole,” Malum snapped.

“Wait, really?” I asked in mock confusion. “That’s news to me.”

“Obviously,” Scorpius spat. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s already apologized for that—we’re trying to move forward.”

“Technically,” I whispered, “I have three holes. So I’m holes. Plural.” I chuckled to myself as darkness wrapped around me.

I drifted away into sweet unconsciousness.

“Do not talk about yourself that way. I won’t fucking have it,” Malum barked, and I immediately jolted back awake.

Sun god forbid the hole in the room have a moment of peace.

“Is Malum having a meltdown again?” Vegar asked from the other set of bunks. Our demon teammate’s voice was scratchy, like he’d just woken up from a nap.

Zenith grumbled above him.

“Oh yeah,” John answered.

The demon lovers were grumpier than usual because they couldn’t fit together on the narrow beds. Add into the mix a seven-foot-tall soldier of death with the constitution of a flaming, deranged donkey and you had a recipe for uncomfortable living.

Malum screamed, “I’m not having a meltdown!”

Convincing.

Vegar resumed snoring.

“Okay, Mitch,” I mumbled.

“What?” Zenith asked.

“Male bitch.”

“Oh,” Zenith said, “makes sense.”

The leader of the kings let out a war cry.

“Save it for the battlefield, Mitch.” I pulled the blanket over my head with my free arm and tried to suffocate myself to sleep.

Luka squeezed my hand, and I relished his touch.

“Can you stop antagonizing him?” Scorpius sneered. “You’re not helping the situation.”

“You’re doing this to me, Arabella,” Malum said harshly.

What a charming individual.

“No baby girl, that’s all you.” I yawned. “Also, that’s something a Mitch would say.”

Someone let out a barking laugh, but sleep swallowed me, and I couldn’t respond.

I jolted awake.

Soft snores and the whisper of sheets echoed.

It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. The room’s single window was dark with snowfall, and there wasn’t a star in sight.

The covers pulled up to my chin crackled with frost, and my breath came out in a visible puff even though the room was warmed by enchantment.

I couldn’t find the energy to be surprised.

Lately, the cold stalked me.

Diamonds flashed as I moved the wrist clasped in Luka’s grip. My other hand was filled with cold metal and paper. I brought my palm to my face in confusion.

Recognition dawned.

A lighter and a tiny piece of paper, which read, “Please don’t hurt Corvus, he doesn’t mean what he says.”

Orion was trying to help.

Bless his delusional, psychotic heart.

He didn’t realize his mate was beyond saving.

For a second, my heart panged as I thought about how much the kings all cared about one another. They didn’t want to see Malum hurt, and truthfully, neither did I—I wanted him obliterated. Complete annihilation.

There was nothing more satisfying than a grown man crying.

Empty anger welled.

I was vengeful because of what he’d done to me.

He’d made his choice.

He’d sacrificed me in the games.

He’d discarded me like trash.

I needed payback—I needed to do something.

Gently detangling my fingers from Luka’s, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the barely three feet of space that separated one end of the room from the other.

Kneeling in front of the lowest bunk, I brought the lighter up.

Flicked it.

A yellow flame danced, and I held it against the white sheets. It crawled across fabric and left a scorch of black, and the harsh scent of burning cotton was noxious.

Fire multiplied.

Harsh bronze features in repose flickered with shadows. Asleep, Corvus Malum looked more like a man and less like the angry instrument of the sun god.

Silver eyes opened and glinted with a green sheen.

Yellow flames intensified.

Malum stared at me and didn’t move as his bed went up in flames.

“Can you turn off your powers?” I whispered.

Bronze skin rippled as he leaned forward, and I scrambled backward as he climbed out of the yellow inferno and unfurled to his full height.

For a long moment, he stood before me, burning.

His brow crinkled, and he fisted his hands and scrunched his lids shut like he was concentrating on letting the fire consume him.

Lashes fluttered.

Silver eyes pooled with sadness.

“No,” he said brokenly. “I can’t turn it off.”

As he stood before me, half-naked, layers of bronze rippled across his immense torso, his shoulders hunched forward with defeat like he’d thought this could save us.

A ripple of pain shivered down my spine, and I pretended not to feel it.

I mumbled, “At least you tried.”

We both knew it wasn’t enough.

We’d both heard my screams.

“Look at me.”

I stared at the floor.

“Please,” he begged.

I glanced up.

The flaming devil took a step closer, and his expression fell as he whispered, “I’m sorry about how I spoke to you earlier. I was out of line—and it does hurt.”

A blush stained the tops of his cheekbones as he stared down at me.

His silver eyes were pleading.

Scorpius swore as he scrambled out of his bunk and smacked at the flames, and the rest of the room woke up around us. Men shouted. Someone grabbed a bucket from the bathroom and threw water on the flames. There was chaos all around.

Neither of us moved.

“Just not how you meant, Arabella.” His baritone voice was soft.

He leaned closer and breathed out.

Our breath mingled.

Surprisingly soft lips pressed gently against mine, and they were incredibly warm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against my mouth. “Please forgive me.” Wide palms cradled the sides of my face, and heavily callused fingers traced gently across my cheekbones.

Pain streaked sharply across my back.

Heat burned against my mouth as a different type of fire spread inside my chest.

As his tongue battled against mine, I tasted whiskey and tobacco. My skin tingled with awareness.

Knees went weak.

The bed burned and men yelled. As they tried to put out the fire, Malum kissed me like he was trying to devour me.

Pain streaked hotter down my spine.

It reminded me.

I was embracing the devil.

I yanked away from him and stumbled until I bumped into my bed. Regret filled my throat and closed my airways for acting rashly, and I wished I hadn’t woken him up.

I should have kept ignoring him.

Flames boiled me alive. Water filled my lungs. Glass shredded my skin. Jinx screamed in pain. He looked at me. “Women are nothing but holes.”

He whispered brokenly, “It hurts because you’re already killing me.” A bronze hand reached out toward me. His lips were swollen. There was a handprint of ice in the middle of his chest where I’d touched him.

He looked ravaged.

I shivered uncontrollably as blue ice spread beneath my feet.

“I will make the past up to you. I swear on my life.” His voice dripped with sincerity.

He sounded agonized.

The handprint sizzled as it melted.

I climbed backward into my bed, and bronze fingers curled slowly into a fist and fell down with defeat.

Dr. Palmer had said my feelings were valid.

I felt like Malum didn’t care about me; he just wanted his Revered. He wanted a perfect ideal, not an imperfect person.

I counted desperately under my breath. “Two. Four. Sixteen. Two hundred and fifty-six. Sixty-five thousand, five hundred, and thirty-six.” The numbers blurred.

I pressed trembling fingers to my lips.

They still tingled.

Whiskey and tobacco lingered on my tongue like the most depraved aphrodisiac.

I reminded myself that Aran would never be enough for the kings.

The three of them whispered and held one another in the middle of the room as they made sure Malum was all right.

Luka made a disgruntled noise and flexed the hand hanging over his bunk like he was agitated.

I wrapped my fingers around his.

He sighed with relief and squeezed tightly.

The hollowness in my chest receded, but as my eyes closed, nightmares sank their claws deep and pulled me under.

Fire burned all around.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six…

Even in my sleep, I counted.

Desperately.