Page 327 of Psycho Gods

“What do we do now?” Malum asked softly.

I stretched my hands above my head. “We lie here and do nothing all day. No war. No training. No stress.”

We were all soldiers without a war.

We knew who we were in times of extreme duress, but we didn’t know who we were in peace.

It was time to discover ourselves.

Silver eyes twinkled. Malum stared at my face like he was memorizing my features. “Can we talk, like we did before?” he asked self-consciously.

His cheeks blushed pink.

The warmth in my chest flared, and I smiled like a fool. “I’d like that,” I whispered. “What do you want to know?”

His expression was serious. “Everything. What’s your favorite hobby? What do you love to do most? I want to know every single thing about my Revered.”

Crossing my arm beneath my curls, I stared up at the trees and told him about how I used to love fashion. I explained how different materials could make beautiful designs. Once again, I admitted things to him that I’d never told anyone.

I told him how I’d made Mother’s gossamer silk dress.

How I’d sneak into the kitchen and help curate different enchanted wines.

Our conversation changed. I told him how the half warriors were my first friends. I told him how my mother made me hurt them. How they hated me for it. I told him about the role they played in mother carving my back.

I admitted that a small part of me thought I deserved the punishment because of how I’d treated them.

When I said that, Malum recoiled like he’d been hit. “No,” he rasped harshly. “They were grown men, and you were a child. They knew about your mother’s cruelty, and yet they blamed you.”

I sighed. “It’s not that simple. They thought I betrayed them.”

He reached over and tangled our fingers together. “Listen to me, Aran.” His expression was dire. “It’s the most obvious thing in the entire world that you are softhearted and nothing like your mother.”

I scoffed.

He shook my hand.

“I’m being dead serious,” he said. “They blamed you because they wanted someone to hate. Someone they could bully. They couldn’t do that with your mother.”

I gnawed on my lower lip as I considered his words.

“Can we not talk about it anymore,” I whispered.

“Of course,” he said.

“Let’s just enjoy the nature.” I breathed deeply and reveled in the warm scents of summer.

He squeezed my hand three times.

An hour later, I shifted self-consciously because he was staring at me again.

“What?” I asked.

He propped his head on his hand. “Do you know how unique you are?” He wet his lower lip. “Aran.”

I pursed my lips and tried to hide my smile at how liberally he was using my name.

“You’re just realizing how special I am, Corvus?” His name felt weirdly intimate on my lips.