Page 25 of Gods and Graves

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

THEA

“ S o where, exactly, is this Labyrinth?” I ask the following morning as we all sit around the dining room table for breakfast.

Everett created chocolate chip pancakes—yes, fucking, please—and fluffy scrambled eggs.

I reach for another pancake at the same moment Krystian does, and our fingers touch. Heat engulfs my cheeks, and I quickly duck my head, especially when a sensual, mischievous smirk decorates his face.

I don’t know how to act with Krystian now that we had sex. I’m not sure if this changes things between us.

I know I want it to.

“Go ahead, love,” Krystian purrs, pulling back his hand.

He nods towards the pancake.

When I simply gawk at him, memories of our time together playing on a loop in my head, Everett blows out a breath, grabs the pancake, and drops it on my plate.

I dig in with ruthless abandon.

“We can portal to the entrance of it,” Zaid explains, carefully cutting his pancakes into perfect squares. “But from there, we’re on our own.”

A frog jumps from the ground onto Zaid’s shoulder, and I freeze, a forkful of pancake halfway to my mouth. I wait for him to acknowledge the green amphibian, to bat it away or scream, but he continues eating, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

What the fuck?

I wait for someone—anyone—to acknowledge the frog’s arrival, but no one does.

“What should we expect?” Everett asks gruffly, pushing back his empty plate and reclining in his seat.

“I tried to do all the research I could,” Zaid tells him. “But unfortunately, there’s not a lot of information to go on. Most people who entered the Labyrinth?—”

“—never made it out,” Rafe finishes, absently twirling his butter knife. “How interesting.”

I swallow down the razor blade lodged in my throat.

“Maybe we should just search for a new lead,” I say quickly.

The last thing I want is for anyone to get hurt trying to help me—especially one of these men. The mere thought makes a fist squeeze my heart.

The frog hops off Zaid’s shoulder and moves across the table towards Everett.

No one acknowledges it.

“There’s actually something we want you to consider,” Zaid tells me earnestly, placing his arms on the table and leaning forward.

His grayish-blue eyes ensnare my own, holding me captive. I can’t look away.

“Yes?”

“You could potentially stay behind,” he says, and then hurries to continue before I can protest. “You’ll be safe here. No one but one of us can get past the wards. We’ll be back before you know it?—”

“No way in hell!” I snap, scowling. “You just said that this mission will be dangerous.”

“Which is why you should stay behind,” Everett points out stoutly.

“You’ll need me,” I protest. “I refuse to remain here while you guys risk your lives for me. This is my problem. Now, I would completely understand if you guys want to remain behind while I go on my own?—”

“No way in hell,” Krystian growls adamantly.

“Not happening,” Everett scoffs.

“No, sweetheart,” adds Zaid.

Rafe simply says, “No.”

“Then we’re doing it together.” I flick my gaze between the four of them, allowing them all to see how serious I am.

I refuse to back down. If they think I’ll allow them to go on their own, then they have another think coming.

And yes, it’s think , not thing. I’m literate, bitches.

The frog hops up and down in front of Everett, its long tongue extending.

Everett ignores it and turns to me.

Umm…

“If you’re going, then you need to listen to everything I say. If I say jump, you fucking jump. Don’t ask me how high. We won’t have time for that shit. This isn’t just to protect you but the rest of the team as well. Do you understand?” He levels me with a dark, penetrating look.

I nod wordlessly.

Everett’s job on this team is to protect the others. He’s the leader—whether officially or unofficially, I don’t know. I have to trust that he’ll do what’s best for all of us.

And…I do trust him. Despite his cantankerous, combative nature, I know he’ll never hurt me or put me in harm’s way.

He’s an asshole, but sometimes, that’s the only way to get people to listen.

You can either have everyone love you or keep everyone safe.

He chose the latter. I can respect that, and him, even if I don’t entirely understand it.

Everett’s mouth molds into a frown, but he seems satisfied with my answer.

The frog moves onto his hand and climbs up his arm.

Finally, I can’t take it anymore.

I point a finger at the frog and exclaim, “Is anyone going to do something about that?”

“About Everett?” Krystian chuckles. “He’s beyond saving.”

“Fuck off,” the shifter grumbles, flipping him the finger.

“No.” I absently brush at a disarranged strand of hair that has fallen into my face. “The frog.”

Zaid frowns. “The frog?”

“The frog on his arm.” I give them a “duh” look.

The guys exchange a look.

“What frog?” Krystian’s brows draw together.

“Sweetheart, there is no frog.” Zaid offers me a soft smile.

A strange feeling arrows through me as I watch the frog jump off Everett’s arm and hop across the table.

“Do you guys really not see it?” I ask, my voice turning high-pitched.

My heart begins to pound even faster, battering my rib cage.

“No,” Rafe says simply.

I swallow then lower my hands to the dagger tattooed on my waist. I’ve been saved from explaining it all morning. For all Krystian knows, I’ve had it my entire life. But now…

I’m running out of time.

My breathing turns thready, and nerves pinball around in my stomach. Sweat coats my hands, and I wipe them repeatedly on my jeans.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Zaid’s in front of me, his hands on my thighs.

When did he move? Why can’t I breathe? Why does the air seem to be made of fire that I’m dragging into my lungs?

“We need to hurry,” I whisper, gripping his hands tightly.

The silence turns fraught with tension.

“What’s going on?” Everett barks, standing.

The other two move to crowd around me, but instead of feeling suffocated or claustrophobic, a sense of peace, of security, floods my veins. They’ll protect me. I know they will. They promised.

I stand, nearly sending a crouched Zaid toppling backwards, and begin to pull down my jeans.

“What the fuck?” Krystian’s eyes widen and then heat.

Rafe licks his lips.

But they all freeze when they spot the strange tattoo etched on my skin.

Zaid, who’s closest to the marking, leans forward, his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What’s that?”

“My dagger,” I respond, my voice tight.

“Do you mean a tattoo of your dagger?” An acrimonious tension ripples through Everett, causing his muscles to strain.

“No. It’s my dagger.” I absently trace the design. “I had it in the waistband of my pants, but now…”

“Now it’s melded into your skin.” Zaid’s face pales in horror.

My breath quickens, panic coursing through me. “Whenever I reap a soul, the dagger…does stuff to me. Bad stuff. I see things that aren’t there. I hear voices. I lose my goddamn mind. It only stops when I place the dagger on a pedestal in my room.”

“But you didn’t reap any souls,” Krystian points out, trying to remain positive.

“If I lose my mind again…” I swallow, feeling like I’ve shoved an entire sword down my throat.

There will be no escape, no relief. I won’t be able to simply place the dagger on the pedestal and get my mind back.

My ribs seem to press against my lungs. I can barely suck down a full breath.

“We won’t let that happen,” Zaid assures me, straightening from his crouched position to grab my hands. “We’ll figure this out, Thea. I promise.”

And for the first time since I met these men…

I don’t believe them.