Chapter Eighteen

Dionysos

 

I look into her eyes, willing her to understand. “Don’t you get it? We belong together. We were made for each other. Not just this time, but always.” I know she can feel it too. Her desire for me is blasting through our developing mental link. There’s fear and confusion in her gaze, though, and I hate that I’m the reason why.

Maybe if I explain…

I focus on the threads of a half-formed bond, tethering us together, and hope she sees there’s no hint of deception in what I’m saying. “I knew you when I first walked this earth. You were Ariadne, the Minotaur’s half-sister, and we fell in love after Theseus abandoned you. The dream you had was a memory from that time.”

Her hand flies to her mouth, and her irises fill with silver.

She remembers?

I try to glean something from her thoughts, but a mental wall slams down between us as she plants both palms on my chest and shoves me back.

She can’t dislodge me, but I won’t press on. She needs time to process. Can’t blame her. I stand and move out of her way, as she storms out the door.

I hear her feet stomping down the stairs, and then the downstairs door bangs shut.

And I’m left with my heart’s desire—any chance I had of ascending is gone. Only, when I told C and the guys that I planned to remain human, I didn’t expect the rest of my human life to be spent in misery, which I now know will be the case if I’m not with Moira.

Snap out of it.

And do what? Chase her down in the street? She has the right to turn me down. I can’t force her to accept the bond.

But I can plead my case until she sees the light.

I take the stairs down two at a time, relying on my godly genes to ensure I don’t slip and snap my neck. I throw the door open and see her across the street, heading toward the main road.

“Moira, wait.”

She obviously hears me, because she lengthens her strides.

“Moira,” I call out. “Stop.” I hurry to her side of the road, and she turns toward me long enough to hiss, “Leave me alone.”

“We can work this out.” I wouldn’t insist if I hadn’t sensed her hunger for me moments ago. I’d rather spend eternity alone, than force her into anything.

A fat drop of water lands on my nose. Perfect. Where’s Sei when I need him to control the weather? He’ll probably show up if I call for him, but odds are Moira won’t appreciate another Olympian’s presence.

“You want me,” I send to her. “Admit it.”

Her step falters. She slows but doesn’t stop. “What difference will that make?” she yells without turning around.

More droplets, dripping down my cheeks and clinging to my hair. “All the difference in the world.” If she admits to wanting me, she may be open to loving me. “Say you don’t, and I’ll leave you alone. I swear.” Immortals are bound to our oaths.

“Will you shut up?” a man yells from somewhere up above. “Some of us have work in the morning.”

Ahead, a door opens, and a woman rushes to Moira. “Are you all right, honey? Need me to call the police?”

Why don’t people mind their own business?

The woman makes a U-turn and disappears inside her building. Moira stops and swivels to face me. “Did you do that?” she thinks at me.

“Do what?” I ask the same way. Oh. Did I make the woman leave? “Let’s check,” I send Moira through our mental link, before sending a thought out to anyone who’ll listen. “If you can hear me, turn your lights on and off three times.”

A second passes. Then another. And light pours out of every window I can see. And again. And again.

“That’s enough. You can go back to bed now,” I think at the unseen mortals. Showing Moira how wide a mental net I can cast was a stupid thing to do. If she wasn’t terrified before, she will be now. 

But she stands there, fists on her hips, looking like Wonder Woman, ready to take on the world. “You lied. You can control humans.”

“Then why are you still so far away?”

Because she’s not human. For me to be able to use compulsion to this extent, the bond is in place, and she and I are both gods. And if the bond is in place, I’m not the only one madly in love here.

Yes, I’ve come to terms with my feelings. I’m in love. Shocker.

The rain grows stronger. Thicker. Still, I see Moira’s outline and those luminescent eyes. Without conscious thought, I blink right in front of her. I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her to me hard, the rain soaking into our clothes. “Got you now.”

She looks up at me, stray strands of hair plastered to her cheeks. She doesn’t seem scared. Her eyes are blazing, and her jaw is set. “Congrats. What next? You throw me over your shoulder and carry me to your cave?”

Tempting, but maybe later. “You love me,” I say. Containing my exuberance is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.

She scoffs, and sputters when rain drips inside her mouth. Droplets sparkle on her eyelashes, like gems.

I duck my head and nuzzle her cheek. “You love me,” I whisper.

She bats at my arm, but it’s half-hearted. “Does the cockiness come with the being-an-immortal thing, or the being-a-guy thing?”

I trap her earlobe between my lips and nibble on it. “You love me.”

Moira clutches at my arms before breaking free. “I barely know you, and I’m not even sure I like what little I do know. I mean you’re a lying, manipulating, indecisive—”

“Then why don’t you just say no?”

She bites her bottom lip, and the line between her brows deepens.

That’s what I thought. I clasp her wrist and can feel her pulse thrumming under her skin. When I tug, she falls into my arms. Her face is turned up to me, her eyes wide and round like saucers. Her pupils are blown. This isn’t fear; it’s lust.

When she licks her lips, I swoop in for a taste. She growls and opens her mouth, to suck on my tongue greedily. The rain pours into our mouths, and her kiss tastes of anger and darkness and despair, but with a hint of promise. This is more than raw carnal desire.

She loves me.

I shuffle through fresh memories that are as old as time, to get back to the first ever kiss we shared. Her face was different then, and she had wine on her breath and a smile at the corner of her lips, but she was the same woman.

Can she see? Can I make her remember me without dredging up the pain that brought us together?

Moira clutches my T-shirt. Bunches her fists in it. Arches her neck, so I can slide my lips down its side. Her bun is a dripping mess. I pull her hair free, and twist my fingers in her tresses, to hold her closer. Kiss her harder.

I need her. Need to be buried inside her. Now.

The street drops from beneath our feet, and I stumble backward into a hard surface that wasn’t there a moment ago. I blink and break away from Moira, careful not to let go, lest she start overthinking things again. We’re in my apartment.

Moira lets out a startled laugh. “Oh God. It’s all true. I mean, I knew it was when you said it, but… I mean, you blinked me.” She clutches her head. “Whoa.”

I chuckle and tug on her shirt that clings to her breasts. “Need to get you out of these clothes. You’ll catch a cold.”

She arches a dark brow, even as she lets me peel the sodden cotton off her. “I thought we’re immortal now.”

I shrug. “Thought I’d give it a try.”

And she laughs again. The lilting sound fills the room. It fills my heart, until it’ll burst with happiness. I’ll make it my life’s mission to hear this laugh every day.

Moira grabs my T-shirt with both hands and pulls. It gives her no trouble, as it rips from neckline to hem. “You are soaked too,” she says with a smirk. “We need to get you nice and dry.”

This is perfect. It’s playful and light and sexy.

But the mental wall is still blocking me from gleaning her thoughts.

I don’t need to read her thoughts, to know what she’s doing. The single-mindedness with which she tugs at my fly is telling. Moira decided to focus on the sex part of the bond, rather than deal with the emotional part.

I still her fingers moments before my poor cock is free. “What is this?”

I should have my phone ready to capture the what the fuck drawn all over her face. “It was supposed to be sex,” she says, “but now I guess it’s more talking?”

“Moments ago, you were running away from me, and now you’re all over me. What changed your mind?”

The hands that were going for my dick moments ago form tight little fists, as Moira puts more distance between us. Sometimes, I want to kick myself for analyzing everything.

 

 

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