Love him…
Her fingers curled against her damp skin as if she could scrape away the thought.
Could she … love him?
The god who stole her.
The liar who adored her.
The monster who knelt for her.
To think that the fate of his court relied on the state of her heart. The gods would recognize their fated brides when they attempted to kill them, but she had truly attempted it months after they wed. So how did he know she was the one?
Because they had already met before, but why didn’t she remember him? She had no lapses in memory. Though, it seemed there was nothing magic couldn’t do.
Alora jumped out of her thoughts when Rune crouched beside her to take a drink himself, long black hair falling down his shoulders. His cloak was gone, his tunic loose and rolled up his arms. The muscle flexed beneath his smooth skin as he rose to his feet.
His eyes gleamed with quiet amusement. “You’re thinking aloud again.”
Alora scowled, though the warmth in her cheeks betrayed her. “No, I’m not.”
“I can hear the thunder in your head.” His wet fingers raked the hair out of his eyes. “Is it due to what I said?”
She couldn’t bring herself to answer.
Rune’s smirk deepened. “Ah.”
Embarrassment snapped Alora back to her feet, and she stormed onward, heading east, blush deepening at his chuckle. He took Saeroth’s reins and followed.
She whirled around, almost knocking into him. “How do you know it must be love and that it must beme?”
“There are other signs,” Rune said, watching her intently with a faint smile. “And I have witnessed the occurrence for the last six instances. My brothers had mated with many over the centuries, but their Gates only opened once they formed true bonds of love.”
Her eyes widened.
His smile widened at the look on her face. “Most of their dalliances resulted in demigod descendants like your godmother. And there are many.”
Mated…
Alora swallowed at the thought. “I never thought the gods were…”
Rune leaned in closer. “Indulgent?”
She blushed.
“Sex we thoroughly enjoyed,” he continued. “But love, that was an enigma even to us. A phenomenon of mortals we could hardly understand. We were sent here to live among them until we did by experiencing it for ourselves with the one soul who could love a god.”
“Why?” Alora asked incredulously, stumbling over her words. “Why would Elyon use such a preposterous method? He is the God of Life. Why not simply make the brides of his sons?”
Rune chuckled at her reddening face. “Nothing is ever so simple. The concept of ‘meant to be’ is more than a right. It’s earned. Our brides would love us once they accepted us wholly, not only in their hearts but in their bodies.”
She swallowed, not able to ask aloud how mortals would willingly want to join together in that way with a terrifying, immortal being.
Rune leaned in then, voice dropping like silk onto skin. “Want obeys desire, songbird. And gods exude it naturally. Once you are so far deep into the fog of seduction, there is nothing you wouldn’t do to feel the magic of my unforgettable cock?—”
He cut off with a grunt when she punched his ribs.
Rune’s laughter carried through the forest as he walked ahead. He was treating the matter like he did all things. With amusement. While ignoring how significant it truly was.
