Page 141 of The Gods Order

“I say the entrance. I like walking through the tunnel,” Yemi says, and I side-eye her. She winks.

Sly little shit.

My power wraps around me and the four of us pop up at the mouth of the entrance. The torches lining the Court and hall blaze thanks to the setting sun and I sigh at the realization that we’re about to do this shit for the next five days.

Gods, these days are going to be long.

Val’s head cranes back as soon as the mural comes into view and a small chuckle leaves my lips when Yemi grabs my wrist to stop me from doing what I was planning.

She must’ve thought him standing beside me would stop me.

“So…” I say, gazing up. “You and Kira got a special painting, huh?”

“I suppose you can call it special,” Val says.

“Was that a real battle captured for all our viewing pleasure?”

He shakes his head and the sad smile dusting his lips surprises me.

“No, that was just a normal day. Kira and I practically lived in this Court.”

I study the distant look crossing his face.

“You say it like it’s a fond memory.”

“It is,” he admits quietly. “Kira wasn’t always the way he is now. I mourn that man.”

Meridamus grunts like that’s true, then scoffs like he refuses to mourn him.

I’m not sure what to say to either of them, so I don’t say anything at all. We make our way down the rest of the hall in awkward silence, but the voices reaching my ears from the center have my pace picking up.

I have zero shame in admitting I missed my men. Painstakingly so.

Going from always having at least one of them around me to not seeing any of them since breakfast was hard. I didn’t even get to see them at lunch because Val took it upon himself to pack one for us.

I loathed asking V to tell the guys that.

Lunchtime—really every meal together—is our thing. The disruption in that routine fucking sucks.

A laugh belts from my chest as Riven reaches me first and twirls me around. He cushions me nicely between him and Creed, then doesn’t give my mind a second to stop spinning as he lays a dizzying kiss to my lips.

“Oh, angel.” He sighs. “I was getting ready to come kidnap you.”

“You can’t kidnap the willing,” I say, and he groans into my neck.

“Share,” Amick demands, and my smile widens.

“Hey, Candyman.”

His kiss is opposite yet just as consuming as Riven’s. The purposeful, slow strokes of his tongue heat my belly and I fight back the moan bubbling in my throat.

“How was your day?” he asks as he gradually pulls away.

“Long.”

He nods, caressing my earlobe. With reluctance, he steps aside for Creed.

I chuckle as Creed gives my body a once-over like he might find something wrong.