tied together until one or both of us dies, that's all. I need to know if I need to make room in the damn bed." And I cross my arms over my chest.
Aron's mouth twitches. "Are you jealous?"
"What? No! Don't be ridiculous."
"You are the one being ridiculous. And I am a god. If I wanted to fuck all of them, is it not my right?" He looks down his nose at me, so very arrogant.
"No," I say flatly.
"They would not refuse me." He looks over at Cathis. "If I asked you to give me your wife right now, would you?"
Vian hunches her shoulders. Cathis bows his head and puts his fist over his chest. "We live to serve, Lord of Storms."
Ew. "Don't be gross, Aron."
"I am a god," he tells me, as if I don't know this. "If I ask anything of a mortal, they will give it to me." He shrugs. "If I am in a mood for a fuck, I will take whoever and whatever I want."
"You arrogant sack of shit," I tell him, jumping to my feet. I ignore Vian's gasp. "I don't care if you're the sun god or the god of dirty brown assholes, but my life is tied to yours now. You need to have respect for me and my choices too! You…" My words die in my throat because his mouth is twitching with amusement, and his shoulders shake as if he's fighting back laughter.
Aron finds this all funny.
I smack him on his chest with my hand. "You are an arrogant asshole."
"The god of dirty brown ones, apparently," he agrees, laughter rumbling out of him. He grabs my hand before I can smack at his chest again, and holds my wrist, giving me a teasing look. "Speak the truth, Faith. Are you mad over the things that I have said just now? Or are you mad because you imagine me taking other lovers when you have staked your claim on me?"
"Oh bullshit," I say boldly. "I have staked no claim at all. You can sleep with whoever you want."
He arches an eyebrow as if he doesn't believe my words. Funny, I don't know if I believe them either. Sometimes I think all it would take is a word and I'd be on Aron like white on rice. Other times I want to cheerfully strangle him.
Right now is one of the latter times.
Aron leans in, my hand still trapped in his grip. Little sparks shiver through my skin at his touch, reminding me that he’s not mortal—as if I’d ever forget. “I remember what you have sacrificed, Faith,” he murmurs, expression intent. “And the only one allowed in your bed is me.”
With that, he releases my hand and leaves me wondering exactly what the heck he meant just now.
He turns back toward Vian and Cathis. “We will take the woale you have offered us, and any food supplies you can share. The rain will not return. I am not the Aspect of Lies, so this is truth I tell you. And we will pay you for any supplies you give us. Is there anything else you would share with us that can help? Remember that it is not just my life in danger on this journey, but hers.” And he gestures at me.
Vian’s wide eyes go to me, and then she shakes her head. “There is nothing.”
I have to believe her. Even if there was more information to be shaken out of her, it might take days to get her to admit it, and we don’t have that. Aron’s made it clear we need to get to the tower, and pronto. His urgency drives mine, because if a god is worried about something…well, we all need to worry.
But I look at Vian’s thin face, her arms (and belly) filled with children, and I think she has enough on her plate.
When we leave the farm, the sun is shining hot overhead, the air dry and rain-free. The roads are drying, thanks to the heat, and our woale—or land-hippo, as I like to think of him —plods along a rutted path, contentedly going about the speed of a bicycle with two flat tires. Our bags are saddled, and Aron and I sit atop the thing's wide back on a blanket that passes as a saddle. I sit behind him, clinging to his waist, because it feels as if any moment I'm going to slide off the thing's side. Aron lightly holds the reins and he sits