She’s mine, and I’m hers, and nothing will ever take her away from me.
Not even a fake curse.
I’m so overwhelmed that I don’t think twice before pulling her into my arms, cradling her as powerful emotions swirl through me.
Relief. Excitement. Joy.
All my life, I’ve been told I would ruin this. I stayed alone and pushed everyone else away for their own good, determined to save them from my curse. I assumed I would die alone after rotting in misery all my days, painfully cold and lonely and so damn empty that I would gladly give up the ghost when Syntyche came to reap my soul.
But now?
I’m bound at last, which means I’m…free. No more curse—falsified or not. I can breathe for the first time since Arati’s high priest opened his mouth and ruined any chance at my happiness.
Dear gods, I thank you.
Maven runs a finger over the new emblem on her chest, her gaze heated when it moves back to me. “It worked, but why?”
“Why?” I echo, too busy grinning to puzzle out what she means.
“We just had sex.”
“Not nearly enough of it, if you ask me,” I reply honestly, my attention trained on her finger drifting over my emblem.
My emblem.
On Maven.
This is the best fucking day of my life. I don’t even know how to handle this level of happiness, which is probably why I’m both lovesick and borderline loopy at the same time.
She laughs and shakes her head. “I mean, I haven’t exactly been abstaining with the others. If sex is all it takes to make this non-gods-approved bond happen, then why did it only work now?”
It’s a fair question, but once again, all I can think about is that I’m hers. I scoot closer to Maven because I can’t get enough of her warmth—but I freeze when she subtly scoots away from me.
Maven sees my expression and quickly says, “It’s not you. My body is just finally catching up with the massage, but I’m fine. It passes quickly.”
It kills me that my keeper is downplaying whatever remains of her haphephobia.
Then she tips her head, frowning. “What did you mean earlier about knowing my surname is fake?”
I hesitate.
Ever since we learned more about Maven’s past and her being abducted by shadow fiends when she was young, I’ve wondered about the human brought into that courthouse years ago. Pietro Amato—that was his name. He said his daughter was alive in the Nether, that he needed to rescue her, that she was special…
What if Maven was his daughter?
And what if he was saying that because she’s a saint?
Saints are selected by their patron gods at birth. They’re supposed to live pious, celibate lives as representatives of Paradise, able to use holy magic to a certain degree so long as they abide by the rules of the god who selected them. They bless humans, travel the world, heal the sick, and tend to the temples. Many of them have become great humanitarians who have gone down in history.
If my keeper were picked by one of the gods as a baby, it’s no wonder her father would be desperate to get her back. And I’m almost positive Amato was her father, but what if I’m wrong?
Before I can confess my thoughts to Maven, she straightens and looks at a nearby corner of the room. I tense, worried that fucking wraith has somehow found us again, but she sounds more relieved than worried.
“You’re back.”
It’s quiet for a second before the air ripples beside the front door and then I’m looking right at a very pissed-off incubus. He’s standing with his arms folded, some blood smeared on his hands, and tears in his leather jacket, but at least he doesn’t look as shitty as the last time he came back from something in Limbo.
“You’rebonded,” he mutters, looking like he wants to kill me.
