“With you, I can be myself.” His lips curved. “Even when you don’t like my true self sometimes.”
I snorted. “I don’t like the tactics you use. If you want something, just tell me the reasons why and give me the opportunity to refuse.”
He nodded slowly. “Alright. Would you like me to tell you why I think you should drink from Ethan?”
“Moot point now,” I grumbled. “But sure.” I waved my hand at him. “Fire away.”
“If you had fed from him the moment you really wanted to, Ethan would not have been at his Keep the day your mother came to visit.”
My grip tightened on the mug. Shock rooted me to the couch. My throat thickened with tears.
He watched me with swirling eyes. “I’m sorry, Moira.”
“You—you’re saying this is my fault?”
Cernunnos shook his head and touched my thigh. “No. This was one of many fate lines. I was urging you to pluck another one instead of the one you chose.”
At my look, he shook his head. “Fate is fickle. One tiny action can spark the most extreme reaction. It’s no one’s fault.”
“Where would she have gone?”
“I can’t give you too much more because I don’t know, but she would have come here and tried to break the wards.”
“Would she have succeeded?”
He snorted. “With Evie’s paranoia? Not a chance.”
I set my coffee down and brought my knees up. “How do I fix this?”
“That I cannot answer. As it is, I’ve been warned against offering such nudges again.”
“Warned?”
“Fate is not a concept, sweet Moira. All the strings of fate are controlled by the Seven Weavers.”
My brow furrowed. “Does Evie know?”
“I’m sure she does. Whether she cares is another question. Evie has shown sheer obstinate determination to create her own story. Whether the Weavers had anything to do with that remains to be seen.” His smile seemed a little forced. “They do not accept visitors, so it’s not like any of us can ask.”
“Occasionally, they make a house call?”
He laughed. “Yes. I have been a thorn in their side for many years now.”
“I don’t see why they care if everyone has thousands of strings, anyway. Why should it matter if number one or number eight hundred gets plucked?”
“I can’t begin to tell you how intricately things weave together. If one string is plucked, the vibration shimmers around the world. They get annoyed when they expect things to go one way only for it to do a ninety-degree turn.”
“They must hate Evie then.”
Cernunnos grinned. “She has been a source of great irritation to them, yes.”
“I’d high-five her if she were here.”
“You may need to wait until morning,” he said, his voice holding a touch of amusement. “Rowan said she had enough vodka to fuel the Russian army.”
I snickered and settled against Cernunnos’s shoulder. “I don’t know if I can fix this.” But there was something even worse about the situation. “I’m not sure I should.”
“I can answer the second.” He brought me in closer and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “If you do nothing, this will eventually fix itself, and not in a good way. Sarah is long-dead and was never meant to be resurrected. Phoenixes are the only creatures that can resurrect the dead with no repercussions. Your mother is no phoenix.”
