Page 45

Chapter

Twenty-One

Cernunnos shoved a glass at me. “Drink.”

I waved him away. “Not thirsty.”

“Drink it anyway.”

I stopped stretching and glared at him. “I liked it much better when you were bending me over a couch having your way with me.”

Cernunnos’s eyes widened. “Moira!”

I snorted. “Stop acting like a mother hen. You shoved so much blood down my veins, I may not have to consume any for another year.”

My body hummed with power, so much so I felt like my soul was vibrating.

“You’re still too thin,” he grumbled.

I rose and bent to touch my toes. “Is that why you haven’t had your way with me yet?”

The god choked. “You’re in a mood this morning.”

“Mmm. You didn’t answer the question.”

I straightened to see him watching me, those ancient eyes swirling with power. “Do you want me to bend you over the couch and have my way with you?”

I shrugged. “Depends.”

He tilted his head. “On what?”

I looked away. “On whether you still want to.”

Cernunnos froze. “And why,” he asked softly, “would I not want to?”

He’d seen me beaten and burned and cut and starved. Cernunnos had seen my innards spilling down my body and carried me in his arms out of hell and back home. He’d seen me ravaged and wasted—how could anyone still be attracted after that?

He took a step forward. “Moira.”

“You owe me nothing,” I said, my throat thick. “If you want to walk away, I would not blame you. I am a mess and my feelings are a mess.” I turned away from him and bent to tie my shoelace, even though it was already tied.

“I’ll never be able to repay you for your help—for your kindness—but know if you ever need anything in my power to grant, I will help you.”

He stayed silent for so long, I thought he’d left. A warm hand closed around my upper arm, and a beseeching, gentle tug had me turning around to face him.

In his human guise, Cernunnos wasn’t an overly tall man, but I still had to look up to see his face. His jaw was clenched tight, and his eyes swirled bright with multi-jeweled colors.

I opened my mouth to say something.

Cernunnos’s mouth covered mine, hot and warm. His hand snaked up my back and tangled in my hair so tightly I gasped. Warmth spread through my entire body, and my knees went weak.

The god swept me into his arms, never breaking contact with my lips. He explored and claimed my mouth. I had no idea where to put my hands, what to do, where⁠—

“Stop thinking,” he growled.

I huffed a laugh, sliding my hands up his neck and into his hair. His skin was warm, his hair soft against my fingertips.

“You’re an idiot, Moira,” Cernunnos murmured against my lips.