Page 329 of Psycho Gods

“Then, don’t,” I said. “Ravage me.”

A soft snore echoed, and I flopped back with a sigh.

He was already asleep.

He hadn’t heard me.

Chapter 65

Aran

HORSES

Oscitancy (noun): drowsiness.

I woke up to find drool on my face and Corvus sprawled atop me like I was a bed. If I’d been a smaller woman, I would have been crushed by his excessive weight.

Good thing I was big-boned.

I tried to push him off, but he just grumbled in his sleep and reached for me. He didn’t wake up. After ten minutes of kicking and pushing, he finally rolled off.

I sat up and studied him.

Sunlight filtered through the rich green leaves, and his skin shone like polished bronze.

He seemed younger.

Softer.

Gentler.

He didn’t seem like the same man that had stalked down dark corridors, setting people alight as he expertly wielded enchanted swords.

His features abruptly scrunched up, and he whimpered. He flinched and rolled on the blanket like he was under attack.

His arms flailed. He yelled out like he’d been stabbed.

I knelt on top of him.

Using all my strength, I grappled with his flailing limbs and crossed his arms over his chest. Then I pushed down.

“You’re okay,” I said as I exerted pressure. “The war is over.”

He panted harshly, sleepily fighting against my hold.

Finally, he breathed out—a long shuddering sigh.

He fell still.

I traced my fingers over his brow and whispered soft words as he resumed snoring peacefully.

Feeling exhausted, I climbed off him.

I fingered the ribbons in my curls. I’d found them in a craft drawer last night.

This morning, as I’d hyperventilated in front of the mirror, I’d placed dozens of them in my hair. Just because I could.

A rebellion against myself.