Page 72 of Ivy & Bone

He shut his eyes, trying to blot out the image of her breasts rising and falling, of the swell of her cleavage from beneath her shift. Gods, that perfect body . . .

“Once . . . we are sealed,” Cyrus said, “the bond is permanent. I am a god, Prue. And there is a reason gods do not marry. It is as good as a prison sentence. For all eternity.” Slowly, he opened his eyes, forcing himself to meet the horrified look on her face. “I can’t—I can’t condemn you to that fate.”

Her mouth opened and closed. At long last, her brows knitted together, and anger flashed in her eyes. “I’m prepared to give up everything, Cyrus. What part of that do you not understand? Even if it means an eternity with you, I will do it to bring back Mona.”

“But that’s just it,” Cyrus said. “I don’t know if this will bring her back. You may be chaining yourself to me for nothing.”

Wariness crept into her expression. “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t this work?”

“If Vasileios couldn’t find her soul, I’m not sure I’d be able to.”

“But you said the ruler of the Underworld has dominion over all souls. That’s why he wants the crown.”

“Yes, but I’ve never encountered a soul split from a body before. Not in the Underworld. I don’t know if it can be rectified. If he ripped her apart by force . . .”

Prue flinched, and Cyrus instantly regretted his words. Slowly, she sagged backward against the wall, her expression dejected. “So . . . you’re saying there’s nothing we can do.”

“I’m saying there’s no way to know for sure. I was hoping that once we reached the gate, I would be able to find out for myself. Before you sealed this bargain with me.”

Her eyes burned with renewed intensity. “Were you ever planning on telling me about this permanent bond?”

Cyrus couldn’t hide the truth from her. Not when he’d already laid everything at her feet. “No.”

“So your original plan was to take my body when it suited you, granting you the power you wanted.” The words were more of an accusation than a question.

“Yes.”

“When? When did you change your mind?”

Cyrus opened his mouth to respond, then reconsidered. “In a way, I made up my mind just now. But I’ve had my doubts for a few days now. It’s why I kept pushing you away. Kept avoiding it.”

“You said you would prefer a demon.” Prue’s eyes flashed with indignation and something akin to . . . hurt.

Cyrus winced. “That wasn’t a lie. But the truth is, I would’ve preferred bedding a demon because at least you would still be free.”

Prue blinked at him, clearly stunned. “So that night in the cave . . .”

Cyrus shut his eyes again as the sounds of her moaning in pleasure rose to his mind. “It was a moment of weakness. And it shouldn’t have happened. Because it proved just how much I wanted you. Just how much I care for you.”

She was so still, so silent, that he didn’t dare open his eyes. He couldn’t look at her—couldn’t bear to see the pity in her eyes, or worse: the loathing. She should be disgusted with his confession.

After a moment, she whispered, “You really do like playing games, don’t you?”

Cyrus’s eyes flew open. She stared at him with accusation in her gaze, her eyes pooling with moisture.

“Prue—”

“If you truly care for me, as you say, then prove it,” she challenged. A tear trickled down her cheek, but her conviction didn’t waver. “Tell me what happened when you first came here. What really happened.”

Cyrus pressed his lips together. “No.”

Prue huffed a cold laugh and raised her hands. “I knew it.” She adjusted her dress to cover herself before buttoning it again. When she was fully clothed again, she shoved past him, her shoulder hitting his chest in the process. Without looking at him, she drew a chair up to the tray of food and started eating.

For a long, agonizing moment, Cyrus only watched her. The careful way she cut into the meat, the grace with which she chewed her food. Even though she was probably famished, she still dined like a queen.

How had Cyrus ever thought of her as a filthy commoner? When he’d first seen her village, he’d wrinkled his nose in disgust. She’d spent her whole life there, and yet here she was, showing more elegance than he ever could.

“Quit staring at me and eat,” she snapped without looking up. “You must be hungry, too.”

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