Valkyrie's Harem (Academy of Immortals 1)

He rolls his pretty green eyes and pushes a cup in my hand. “Then figure out a way to make it happen, Hildi, or you and Luke are going to be sucking face, and I don’t think he’ll turn down the opportunity.”

He walks back over to the group, happily inserting himself in the circle. I take a sip of my drink and follow, squeezing into the spot Luke has left open for me. To be honest, the game seems sort of silly for Academy kids. Shouldn’t we be out looking for the Stone? Or maybe this is just a diversion and someone else is out there right now. I move to stand, but Luke grabs my hand and pulls me back down. “You’re not getting out of this one, Valkyrie.”

Marielle sits on her knees and holds up a black chalice with spiderwebs on the side. “So the way we do this is that I’ll pick two names out of the cup to start. The person that breaks away first loses. The winner picks the next two names.”

“That doesn’t sound like a game,” Cora says. “That sounds like PDA.”

“Whatever,” Marielle says, dipping her hands in the cup. She pulls out two slips of paper. She unfolds it dramatically and holds them up. “Ah, Luke and Cora.”

Cora and Luke grin at one another. I get the feeling this isn’t new for either of them. They meet in the middle of the circle and face one another. Cora eyes Luke hungrily and the tip of her tongue flicks out. I notice that the end is forked, like a snake. My eyes widen, freaking a little at the sight, what kind of being is she? Luke doesn’t seem to mind if her tongue is forked or not. He slides his hand behind her neck and they start kissing.

Marielle bounces on her knees, excited about the whole scene. It’s weird watching two people make out like this. I grew up with the gods, and public displays were the norm, but this feels strangely intimate. They kiss for a minute or two, bodies pressing into one another. Cora runs her hands up Luke’s face and two protrusions appear on his forehead. I blink, thinking I’m drunk, but I’m not

. Small horns grow as he gets excited. Cora and pulls him close, the kiss growing heated, until—

“Ow,” he gasps and jerks away, touching his bottom lip. Cora hisses, her tongue flicking in his direction.

“Be careful,” he says, horns shrinking back in his head, “that one bites.”

Does he sprout angel’s wings, too? And if so, do I want to know when?

Cora, unaffected by what just happened, reaches into the cup and pulls out two more names. “Marielle and Marshal.”

Marielle barely contains her excitement and a flare of annoyance bursts in my stomach.

Marshal gets to his knees and downs the rest of this drink. “Hold this, will you?” he says to Claudia, handing her the empty cup.

I try to keep a blank expression as they meet in the middle of the circle. Marshal is a very good kisser. There’s no way Marielle is going to cut it off and from the smug, satisfied smirk he flashes me, there’s no way he’s going to either.

Marielle pushes her long hair over her shoulder and tugs Marshal toward her by gripping his shirt. He holds her eye and I can’t even begin to identify the feeling I have in the pit of my stomach. Anger at him for kissing this younger girl? Annoyance at him for even getting us into this situation? There’s a third emotion that I’m not willing to identify, but it flares mightily as their lips touch.

I wait for the escalation, I know what Marshal can do with his mouth and tongue, but strangely, there’s nothing there—at least not from him. He gently presses his lips to hers, then pulls back, kissing her on each cheek and then her forehead.

Marielle sighs, eyes glazing. “Wow.”

Wow?

I glance at the twins. They look mesmerized as well. Marshal reaches for the cup and pulls out two slips. “Well, look that,” he says, flashing the paper, “I get to go again. This time with the Valkyrie.”

“What?” I blurt, confused about what’s going on. “You already went.”

“Names go back in the cup for another turn,” Luke says.

Marshal holds the slips of paper in the air, eyebrow raised in my direction.

Marielle takes her seat back next to me and leans over, nudging me with her elbow. “That was, like, beyond epic.”

I narrow my eyes. Does Marshal know magic? Is there some kind of love potion in our drinks? What is going on?

“Clock’s ticking, Hildi,” Marshal says, looking bored.

I get on my knees and move to the middle of the circle, facing him. I’m nervous. I don’t know why—well, no, that’s a lie. I do know. We’ve never kissed in public before. And we’re not supposed to ever kiss again. Marshal has been explicitly compartmentalized in my life. Doing this, here and now? It’s tearing the doors off.

I feel the eyes of everyone in the circle watching us as we face one another and try to ignore them. “This is dumb,” I mutter, feeling like an adolescent.

Marshal doesn’t say anything, thank the gods, he just aligns our bodies and a jolt rushes through me when his hips press into mine. I swear to myself I won’t act like Marielle, some besotted school-girl, unable to control herself around this obvious predator, but my resolve is weak. I already know what his mouth tastes like, how skilled his tongue is, how I can feel it all the way in my toes.

He places one hand on my hip and runs the other one behind my neck, gently pulling me close. On instinct, I lick my lips, and he smirks before tilting his head and pressing his lips to mine. That current of fire runs through me, the one that knows, typically, a kiss between us leads to more. My body heats and my lips part, eagerly letting him in, and although my mind cries out, “Stop! That’s enough!” I don’t stop, as though I’m a woman possessed, and Marshal is the only cure. The kisses turn from gentle to strong, his breath heady and his scent overwhelming me. His hips press into mine and I feel the want growing between us. My hands reach around his back, sliding under his shirt. It’s been days since we were together last, days since I had the pleasure of running my hands down his—