Psycho Gods: Enemies to Lovers Romance

STRATEGY

Dreich (adjective): dreary.

DAY 25, HOUR 16

“What is wrong with you people?” Rina asked, her pretty features contorted in a sneer as she leaned against the desk.

No one answered her.

The strategy room was colder than usual, and the small lamp that illuminated the space glowed golden. The red rug that covered the room was reminiscent of freshly spilled blood. I’d never noticed its intense hue.

Jinx and I stood on one end of the blackboard, and Malum stood at the other. The kings had found crutches for Jinx at the shifter mall.

Although, “found” was a generous term because they’d dragged a shifter with a broken leg into an alcove, punched him in the stomach, and forcibly stolen his crutches.

Jax had scowled at their methods, Cobra had patted Malum on the back and taken the crutches with a grin, while Ascher and Xerxes had bemoaned that they should have thought of attacking an injured person sooner.

Men.

The kings had smirked at me like they’d proven something.

They weren’t smirking anymore.

None of us were.

Four angels crowded around the table, frowning. Rina was their ringleader. The two angels that were best at navigating were away finding the next location.

A headache throbbed in my temples.

The shifters sat with the rest of our legion in the leather chairs and watched the conflict awkwardly.

John was sitting next to Scorpius, and Luka was sitting next to Orion. All four of them were whispering among themselves like they were friends.

When did that happen?

Rina made a loud noise of agitation, and I grudgingly turned my attention back to the irate angels.

At first, the others had tried to step in and stop the angels from yelling at us, but ice swords had materialized, and Jinx had ordered everyone but the angels to sit down.

Violence still buzzed in the air, and everyone stared at one another with distrust.

I was too tired for this bullshit.

I felt like the twins looked—their olive skin had an ashen hue, and their eyes were ringed in dark circles. Were they sick?

Worry turned my stomach.

I made a mental note to ask them about it later. They were always taking care of me, but who was taking care of them?

Rina made another sound of annoyance.

As champions, we technically outranked them, but the High Court made it clear that we had to make decisions together, and the lines of leadership were blurry. I’d thought the war structure made sense.

I’d been a fool.

Rina slapped her palms on the table for emphasis. Her voice went up a decibel as she said, “We need to find a solution. We can’t fight like this.” The angels nodded behind her like they were all in agreement.

Knox stood behind them with his arms crossed, but even he nodded in agreement.

Everything out of the angels’ mouths was garbage. A child’s fairy tale. Their emotional breakdown was useless in the grand scheme of war strategy.

They’d lost their minds.

If I’d wanted to make dumb decisions, I’d have asked Sadie for strategy advice. I loved her with all my heart, but the woman made bizarre choices in the heat of the moment.

She’d voluntarily mated to Cobra.

Enough said.

Rina let out a pitchy laugh and tapped her foot.

Beside me Jinx let out a long rattling sigh, and I agreed with the sentiment. Across the board, richly colored flames danced along Malum’s shaved head, and chalk snapped between his fingers.

Forty-one soldiers had not died fighting against the ungodly for the angels to have a crisis of consciousness. Only fifty-nine of us were left standing between the realms and the destruction of civilization as we knew it.

If I was going to be forced to lead a war, I wasn’t going to make stupid decisions to pander to emotional people.

I’d lost too much of myself to stop now.

Sweat dripped down my temple, and my skin tightened as it froze. I scrubbed at the side of my face to wipe it away.

Neither Jinx nor Malum had responded to Rina’s inane statement. Everyone was waiting for someone to take charge.

I swallowed down a scream because I wasn’t paid enough for this—actually, I wasn’t sure I was being paid at all.

Why was I doing this?

Inhaling enchanted smoke, I blew out my emotional support Horse. He settled onto my shoulder with a soft caw, and his long smoke feathers whispered against my skin.

His neck was longer and plumage more dramatic than ever before, which was strange because every time I conjured him, I imagined the same bird.

He was changing.

I would have been interested in solving the puzzle of his evolution if my cortisol levels weren’t spiking through the roof. I mindlessly petted the crow on my shoulder and focused on the mess in front of me.

Rina’s scowl darkened as she waited with growing impatience.

“I don’t understand your position,” I said slowly, enunciating each word to make sure my tone was moderate and noninflammatory.

My lips curled up in a soft smile.

I gave off nonconfrontational, peaceful vibes.

Rina put her hands on her hips and shouted, “We refuse to fight like we’ve been! There has to be another way. We need to work on finding a cure for the infected. There are thousands of innocent people in these compounds.”

It felt like I was falling.

Rina’s voice rose as she continued, “I refuse to put myself in a position where I have to harm this many civilians. Come up with a new strategy.”

She waved her fingers like she was shooing me.

Jinx muttered something scathing under her breath, and I held myself back from leaping across the table.

You know what we needed to bring back?

Scalping.

How self-absorbed were the angels? Did they think I wasn’t haunted every second of my life with the screams of the dying?

“Do it,” Sadie mouthed at me from her seat in the front row like she could read my mind.

I closed my eyes and inhaled. I was the champion of the gods in a war and I was going to be mature and respectful.

“Thank you for sharing your opinion,” I said, overenunciating each word.

“It’s also wrong,” Knox said righteously from the back of the group. “We can’t afford to make mistakes and murder innocent civilians. There could be far-reaching repercussions for the High Court. We need to come up with a new strategy. Is anyone working on a cure?”

My eye twitched.

Knox crossed his arms over his chest and stated, “We need a change of plans.”

The pounding in my temple intensified, and ice glistened as it spread from my fingertips and streaked across the chalkboard behind me.

Jinx pushed her dark sunglasses harshly up the bridge of her nose. “Do your heads hurt?”

“What?” Rina snapped.

Jinx scowled. “All of you were clearly dropped on your heads as children, so I’m asking. Do your heads hurt?”

It took a moment for her words to penetrate.

The room erupted.

Sadie and Scorpius laughed, Malum grinned, Rina started screaming, and one of the male angels kicked a folding chair, while Knox yelled something about disrespect and shouldered his way to the front of the group.

Crack.

The chaos stopped, and everyone gaped at me.

My hand stung from where I’d slapped Knox across the face.

His jaw dropped open as he touched the red fingerprints that were already visible across his cheek.

“That’s my girl.” Sadie clapped loudly and pumped her fist.

Her support was not appreciated.

Rina snarled. “How fucking dare you touch him? He is one hundred times the angel you’ll ever be,” she spat. “You can’t even fly.”

The snowbank.

Straining for hours.

Failing.

Malum let out an unholy noise and moved like he was going to hit Rina. I grimaced and flung myself in front of him to stop him. “Whatever,” I said, “she’s not wrong.”

“I’m going to kill her,” Scorpius promised as he stood up. Orion pulled him back down.

“Why did you do that?” Knox asked as he fingered his cheek.

Malum shifted in front of me and blocked my view of the angels. Flames leaped across his skin protectively. Whiskey and tobacco tingled across my senses.

“Why?” Knox asked again.

My gut told me saying, because I’ve wanted to hit one of you ever since the Legionnaire Games probably wasn’t the best move.

“I didn’t mean to,” I said weakly. “Adrenaline overwhelmed me, and I acted before I could think.”

There was a long moment where I tensed and prepared to fight to the death.

Knox said crisply, “It’s fine. Let’s move on. You’ve been suffering of late because of your overwhelming failures to fly. I forgive you.”

Pompous prick.

“Don’t talk to her with that tone.” Flames leaped higher off Malum’s shoulders, and he cracked his neck back and forth menacingly. “Your legion can focus on the oldest and largest infected during battles. Everyone else will handle the rest.”

I gritted my teeth and nodded in agreement.

“However,” Jinx said, “questions about a cure should be directed to the High Court.” She pointed toward the enchanted tablet on the table. “The organization that is making all of us fight in this war. Save your ire for the people who deserve it.”

The angels sulked but didn’t say anything. They slunk to the back of the room.

Jinx, Malum, and I turned back to our strategy board and started over.

With no windows to filter light, there was no sense of time.

We projected weapons onto the board and rough renderings of the compounds we’d plundered. We wrote down our numbers and estimated the number of ungodly waiting for us in the third location. We counted how many soldiers on average were lost guarding the perimeters and where we needed them positioned.

At one point, Jinx created a math equation that calculated the odds of finding a cure for the infected.

Chalk symbols and letters covered every inch of the chalkboard.

Malum and I updated the equation where she made mistakes, and all three of us solved it for quality control.

We all got the same result.

There was a .07 percent chance of finding a cure, assuming the High Court was already working on one, and a 342 percent chance the ungodly would murder millions if they expanded into other realms and infected people.

Jinx smirked condescendingly and turned around, brandishing her chalk to the room. “This is why your position is idiotic,” she spat at the angels.

No one responded.

I rubbed grit out of my tired eyes.

Everyone was asleep.

Jinx hobbled over and smacked her crutch against Rina and Knox until they woke up. “See why your idea was asinine.” She pointed at the board.

The angels squinted sleepily at the board with confusion. “What are we looking at?” Knox asked as Rina said, “I just see letters and symbols. What is this?”

Jinx let out a small scream of frustration and hobbled back to the board while Malum shook his head like he too was disgusted with their mathematical incompetence.

The angels went back to sleep.

I grimaced at Jinx. Poor girl had forgotten for a second that other people were genuinely simpleminded and useless. She’d learn with age.

Either I was hallucinating, or she didn’t look like a child anymore. She looked like a teenager.

Her limbs were long and lanky like she was going through puberty, and her face had lost baby fat.

“How old are you again?” I asked.

Jinx ignored me as she stared at our equation. “I don’t have time for this. We need a plan if the angels refuse to fight because they’re cowards.”

I winced.

We sounded like monsters.

They weren’t wrong for not wanting to kill the innocent infected; sun god, neither did I. However, this was war.

Suddenly, I didn’t feel so good about our position. Maybe we should do something to try to save—

“No.” Jinx cut me off like could read my mind, which she very well might be able to. “No. We know the facts and the numbers. If we’re going to win this war, we can’t worry about the fate of the few in the face of real, assured destruction.”

I tried to nod in agreement, but my neck muscles cramped.

My chest knotted with regret.

“She’s right,” Malum said as he tapped the tablet and flipped through the different projections. “We’ve thought through every angle and calculated the odds. We need to stay level-headed and not be swayed with emotion. The three of us are effective strategists because we make decisions based on hard facts.”

Silver eyes looked melancholic.

The chalk in my fingers froze solid and dropped. It shattered across the floor in thousands of little pieces. For the first time, I noticed the similarities between Malum and me.

The heartlessness.

The learned cruelty.

We adapted and survived.

He looked at me and whispered, “We’re different because of our analytical abilities. We recognize that this is war. We understand the stakes.”

I exhaled.

“Here.” Malum walked across the room and dragged over the angel’s tea cart. He looked ridiculous wheeling the little silver trays filled with flower-shaped cakes.

He sat down in one of three leather chairs and gestured to Jinx and me.

“Um,” I said awkwardly as I stared at a chair, then back at him.

Pink stained his cheeks as he cleared his throat and waited. A yawn climbed up my throat as I sat in his offered chair.

“Thanks,” I said.

His blush intensified. “Anything for you.”

All three of us sat.

He leaned toward me, and I pretended not to notice navy painted nails twisted a curl that had come free from my bun.

He casually played with my hair.

My spine hurt.

Jinx reached for the cups, and Malum stopped her.

“I got it,” he said gruffly, then held a flaming finger under the kettle to warm it.

When he was satisfied with the temperature of the water, he packed strainers with tea leaves and placed them over each of our cups. He took painstaking care pouring the liquid.

It felt like a fever dream.

After he was satisfied with the state of our tea, he grabbed little plates and piled them high with cucumber sandwiches and cakes.

Pink became scarlet as his blush deepened under my scrutiny.

“You both need to eat more,” he said as he pushed the overflowing plates in front of Jinx and me.

Jinx nodded and attacked the food.

I sat rigidly and stared at the leader of the kings.

The corner of his mouth quirked up into a lopsided smile.

I forgot how to breathe, my stomach pinched, and pain tingled down my spine.

In the back of the room, a demon snored and John moaned something in his sleep.

Malum held up a cucumber sandwich, laughably small compared to the size of his hands, and it took me a second to realize what he was waiting for.

I touched my sandwich to his. “Cheers.”

“To winning this war,” he whispered as a scarlet flush spread down his neck. “We can do this.”

“Hopefully,” I said tiredly.

He shook his head. “I have a good feeling. Did I ever tell you about how we became kings?”

“No,” I said, shocked that the recalcitrant man who literally breathed fire was opening up to me.

“Trust me, our odds were way worse back then,” he said.

Then to my utter astonishment, he launched into an unbelievable tale about how they’d fought for days with no weapons. They’d only had their fists, one another, and the power in their veins.

What he described was the bloodiest, most gruesome tournament known to man.

I felt sick to my stomach listening to how they’d been hunted through the woods when they were still teenagers.

Malum spoke about enduring torture like it was nothing.

He talked about how he’d learned to rely on Scorpius’s advanced hearing for tracking, and how Orion’s enthralling voice had saved them an infinite number of times.

Then he talked about how he’d unleashed his flames on the other competitors.

The rules banned full use of mate powers, so they hunted down the other competitors like animals and killed them. One by one, Malum lit them on fire.

It was a savage, gruesome tale.

It was awe-inspiring.

When he was done explaining how they’d survived, half-beaten for weeks with barely any food and water, he picked up his tea and took a sip.

Jinx and I blinked at him.

“Does that give you—nightmares?” I asked cautiously, unable to reconcile how someone could survive such an ordeal and still function.

Malum shrugged and rubbed at his chest. “No. Physical pain is not what I’m afraid of. It’s never been my weakness.”

A strange sensation unfurled around my heart.

I understood. A broken bone would heal and bruised skin would recover because the violence of a blow was temporary.

It was mental pain that crushed you relentlessly into smithereens.

You didn’t heal overnight.

It was a long-festering suffering that persisted as long as the conditions that fostered it remained, and sometimes long after they’d gone.

Mental pain lingered.

It would take an insane life change—I’d have to live in a peaceful realm that was fully sheltered from violence and war—before I’d even hope to recover.

I’d take a punch to the face over the feelings of emptiness any day.

“I know exactly what you mean,” I whispered as I stared at Malum like I was seeing him for the first time.

The tea in his hand shook.

He stared back at me with haunted silver eyes, and it felt like I was staring into a mirror.

“Someday, both of us will feel whole,” he whispered. “The mental pain will lessen—it has to.” His voice cracked like he was trying to reassure himself.

Before I could think through what I was doing, I reached forward and laid my hand across his. “I agree. We’re going to heal,” I said with conviction. “I have a good feeling about us.” The truth of my words strummed through me.

Then, because bronze cheekbones still blushed pink as he stared at me, I added, “Thank you for sharing your past. I enjoy talking to you—not as enemies.”

Pink became scarlet.

His fingers trembled and tea spilled. He wiped at the mess as he cleared his throat. “It’s nice, getting to know each other.” He cleared his throat. “Let’s do it more often.”

“It’s a plan,” I said and a strange warmth zinged in my chest.

There was something about this disheveled, blushing version of the fire king that brought down all my defenses.

There was an extreme vulnerability about him. He hid it behind bluster because he was afraid of getting hurt.

We were both emotionally damaged and afraid.

“Okay, let’s keep working.” Jinx clicked a pen and opened her notebook, and I jerked because I’d forgotten she was here.

Warm, callused bronze fingers laid across mine.

His touch was tender.

Pain zipped down my spine. In the back of the room, John made a noise in his sleep.

“Thanks for listening to me, Aran,” Malum whispered.

I forgot how to breathe.

My proper name on his lips felt more intimate than a kiss.

Something shifted between us.

“Thanks for sharing.” I gave him a small smile.

His eyes crinkled as he grinned.

We beamed at each other.

His warm thumb traced back and forth over the top of my hand. Ice melted off my skin.

“You’re so screwed.” Jinx’s voice echoed inside my head, and it was my turn to flush as I pretended not to hear her.

We worked together for another fourteen hours.

And the entire time, his hand never left mine.