8. WEN

From the moment he crash-landed in my path and knocked me flat on my ass, laying eyes on Godric always felt like a punch to the heart.

Seeing him again, after everything that he said and did during and after the Imperium Trials, is even worse. It feels like a slash to my soul.

Everything in me quivers over him hungrily as we approach Raziel Complex’s main entrance, where he stands like a long-suffering sentinel god.

Somehow, not even the mind-numbing proportions of the Academy’s central buildings diminish him. If anything, with his massive wings gathered above him in a swathe of storm-hued menace and magnificence, he looks more larger-than-existence than ever.

To add to his overwhelming impact, he’s in his full Praetor’s regalia. And for the first time, the otherworldly Roman-centurion getup is complete with cape.

An angeldamned cape.

I can almost hear my ovaries wailing.

Lorcan, as his second-in-command, is also there, underlining the importance of this Ceremony. He’s in his formal threads, too, looking no doubt drool-worthy. I wouldn’t know, since I have eyes only for Godric. Godric who probably stood over me as I writhed in the throes of those morbidly erotic hallucinations starring him.

The idea makes me squirm, with embarrassment—and arousal.

My only regret is that I didn’t wake up when he leaned over me, didn’t get to savor his breath fanning my face, and his heat and scent inundating me. Most of all, I missed feeling his hand slipping beneath my pillow as he put the Amulet there. That was the closest I’d ever gotten to his touch.

Yeah. I’m setting a new lameness record here, for this to be the height of my ambition. But I probably wouldn’t have done anything to act on my raging desires. And not because my Unitas were sleeping around me. I probably wouldn’t have done a thing if I found him looming over me in the total isolation of our dungeon.

Damn my inexperience and insecurities.

I’m hot, wet and furious as the towering doors swing open at Godric’s back. Either they opened of their own accord at our approach, or I missed one of those flicks that make anything obey his will. He remains unmoving in their center, forcing Aela to circumvent him, with us following suit.

Just as I think we’ll pass him without incident, he angles his head, freezing Alela in her tracks.

As we pile up behind her, his gaze pans from her to the others. “You four go in ahead with Lorcan. I need a word with White.”

As every cell in me riots, in anticipation and dread of being alone with him, after he kissed me in real life, and killed me in that delirious realm, I vaguely register the others’ reactions as they comply.

Aela bristles, at me. She must have found a way to blame me for her cousin and superior’s brusque order, and this extra delay. Cara’s jealousy is back in full force, riddling me like a machine gun. Sarah’s reluctance to leave me behind is almost palpable. Jinny’s animosity is even more so, but for once I’m not its target, as she impales Godric on a venom-laden glare. His empty gaze as it skims her is even more chilling.

Weird. I thought after he intervened to save her from Azazel, these two wouldn’t remain on their hate-filled footing. Seems nothing as trivial as a life debt can dilute her loathing. While saving her demonic ass goes against everything that he is, and he’s probably kicking his own semi-Celestial butt over it.

Theirs is a story I’m dying to find out. If I don’t literally die in the near future, I’m getting to the bottom of this.

For now, I remain frozen, eyes pinned on my Academy-issue boots, and heart trying to squeeze out of my throat.

But I’ll have to look up and meet his gaze. And if I find that same devouring hunger before he kissed me, or worse, that solemn intensity he hit me with afterwards, I don’t know what I’d do.

I don’t know how to handle the acute change in our dynamic. I might not be able to utter a word around him ever again.

“Don’t say a word.”

His rumble reverberates in my bones like an earthquake. It’s as if he’s read my mind, when he insists it isn’t one of his powers.

So, he doesn’t want me to say anything. For once, I’m good with that. With him doing all the talking.

But when I force my gaze up to his, it’s not hunger or intensity I find there. It’s fed-up harshness. What the old him flayed me with in those early days. He’s looking at me as if he hasn’t melted me with indulgence, and remolded me with intimacy. And with that kiss. And with that “Come back to me, always.”

Before another thought fires in my frazzled synapses, he grits, “Whatever happens in there, don’t speak, don’t react, in any way. Let me handle it.”

Oh. That’s what this is all about. Not us, but the Ceremony. I should have known its outcome would be his only concern right now.

“After I smooth everything over?—”

“How will you do that?” I blurt out, curiosity burning away my uncharacteristic muteness. He never explained what he’d do if the Amulet reveals what I have inside me.

“I have a few scenarios prepared.”

“An example would be appreciated.”

His expression shutters more at my persistence. “And none will be provided. Just focus on your own part.”

With that, he turns away. My paralysis snaps with his first stride, and I grab his arm. My fingers can’t sink in such unyielding girth, but the feel of his flesh, exposed by his uniform, zaps through me with another wave of desire and dizziness.

His gaze drops to my detaining hand, making me feel he’d prefer a rotting tentacle.

I release him and throw both hands up in exasperation. “That’s the urgent word you wanted with me? A repetition of the directions you gave me a zillion times before? As if I could have forgotten.”

“I can never be certain of anything with you. This is critical, and I wasn’t about to risk leaving it to your questionable discretion and selective compliance.” Before I can voice any objections, he grinds out more verbal gravel. “So here I am, leaving nothing to your loose and infuriating interpretations of my orders. Do not do or say a thing. Stand there, let them put the Amulet on you, and whatever it reveals, I’ll be the one to deal with any fallout with the Committee.”

I exhale, as fed up as he is at this point. “Whatever.”

He bears down on me, bombarding me with his compulsion, and the intoxication of the scent and heat I’ve been hankering after. “Don’t whatever me, White. Tell me you will do exactly as I said.”

Licking my lips, and wishing they were his, I smirk up at him. “Yeah, yeah. I will stand there like a mannequin, even if the Amulet wakes up that void inside me and it swallows everyone and everything. Satisfied?”

He straightens, and the obsidian lightning that’s been skittering around his irises and at the tips of his hair snaps out to crackle all over him. “As if that’s even a possibility with you around.”

My mouth falls open. Now that’s intensity. Not the kind I was hoping for, but somehow better. Scorching. Exhilarating.

Before I can retort, he reins in his personal storm, and presents me with his winged back as he strides away.

I rush to fall into step with him, looking up at his stony profile. “You have nothing more to say to me after what happened yesterday?—?”

“The day before yesterday.”

I almost snort. “Yeah, ‘cause getting the timing right is what’s imperative here. Did I fall into another realm where the day before yesterday didn’t happen?”

His gaze drags down to mine, as if against his will.

Bracing for another visual duel, I almost jerk with the letdown when his eyes empty of all emotion as he says, “It happened all right, White. And if you know what’s best for you, you’ll forget it.”