“Easy, little weaver. You called for me.” He sighed, stepping out from behind a tree.
“No, I didn’t.”
He smiled.
“You did. Maybe you didn’t notice.” His gaze landed on my face, and his smile vanished. “Why is your cheek red like that?”
I touched my sore cheek, unwilling to admit it. He moved closer, his eyes flashing red.
“Who did that to you?”
“Belion,” I whispered. “The man who looked like you.”
Abram didn’t blink. His jaw tightened once, hard, and the air around us fractured.
He disappeared as soon as the name left my mouth, and I was left by myself again. I picked at some flower petals as I brought my emotions back under control and had just managed to catch my breath again when a sudden flash of Abram’s magic blindedme, and then Belion’s body hit the dirt at my feet. He cried out, broken and bloody. Abram’s eyes burned red, his jaw locked, his magic swirling in a violent storm.
Fuck, he looked good.
A shiver crawled over my skin, not fear exactly, but something sharper, something that left me breathless. The God of Fates was danger wrapped in flesh, and yet every part of me leaned closer, drawn like a moth to fire.
His eyes found mine, dark and knowing.
“What the fuck?” Belion shouted. His gaze darted between us. “I fucking knew it.”
I wasn’t sure what he thought he knew, but Abram didn’t give him the chance to explain. He kicked Belion hard in the shoulder, sending him crashing down.
“You’re going to kneel at her feet and apologize.” His jaw flexed once, tight enough to show restraint, before his gaze lifted to me, dark and unreadable.
“For what?” Belion spat.
“Oh, you must be blind. Forgetful too. Let me remind you.” Abram yanked him up by the neck, forcing him to look at my cheek.
“That.” His hiss was full of venom. “Maybe you need a visual reminder.”
Abram slapped him, hard, exactly as Belion had slapped me.
Belion crumpled, clutching his broken hand. Abram’s heavy gaze noticed his broken wrist. His eyebrows shot up as his gaze slid back to me.
“Did you do that to him, little weaver?”
“Yes.”
“That’s my girl.” He smiled.
My stomach twisted with his praise. His fingers twitched at his side, like he knew he said too much. That small betrayal of his control made my heart stumble.
The words slammed into me, stealing air from my lungs. Heat licked up my throat, traitorous and confusing. He wasn’t mine, and I wasn’t his, but my body didn’t seem to care. My chest ached like I’d been claimed and cursed all at once.
My hands curled into fists, trying to hide the tremble. Abram drove his boot down on Belion’s mangled hand.
Belion screamed to the heavens as Abram trembled with rage, circling him like a predator.
I couldn’t look away.
I knew Abram was a god, but I had never seen him like this—so utterly unrestrained. His wrath-filled eyes met mine, and something seared into me, like he had claimed me with that single look.
He grabbed Belion by the hair, forcing him upright to face me. Belion’s gaze burned with fury.
