Page 74 of Ivy & Bone

Cyrus was still completely rigid, unable to move. “Prue—”

“You say you won’t condemn me to this fate,” she murmured, her breath tickling his face. “But I’ll condemn myself. It’s my choice. And I choose you.”

She leaned closer until her nose brushed his. His breath hitched.

“What do you choose?” she whispered.

Mere days ago, he would’ve easily said power. He always chose power. Because he never wanted to feel weak again. But this weakness, with Prue, was different. It was a weakness that made him stronger, a vulnerability that made him fuller. To be with her was to be empowered in a different way; a way he didn’t think himself capable of feeling.

Prue’s lips brushed against his cheek, the softest of touches. Then, her mouth trailed down his jaw to his throat, and she pressed a kiss there as well. Cyrus’s whole body went alert at her touch, and he knew she felt it too, because she pressed more incessantly against him. He groaned.

Prue’s mouth was at his ear. “Tell me.” A command. How could he refuse?

The words were practically ripped from him by force. “I choose you, Prue.”

She drew back to look at him more fully. Her fingers brushed silver strands of hair from his eyes. For one wild moment, he thought she would touch his horns again—hell, he even wanted her to. But instead, her fingers trailed down his face, halting at the tattoos etched on his skin. She frowned.

“This one’s new.” Her hand pushed his shirt aside, exposing the left side of his collarbone where fresh ink spread, creeping toward his neck. It was the only portion of his left side that was tattooed.

Cyrus nodded, swallowing hard. “When I saved you. On the mountain.”

Prue looked at him in confusion. “What?”

“That particular kind of magic requires . . . a payment. A part of my soul. It was the only thing I could offer.” He looked at her, almost pleading with her to understand. He couldn’t crack himself open again. His heart wouldn’t survive it.

Prue’s lips parted in surprise. “You—you did that? For me?”

He said nothing. He simply met her gaze, forcing the intensity of his feelings into that one look. For you, Prue. Always.

Time seemed suspended between them, as if the whole world had frozen for this moment. For them.

Then, her mouth was on his.

At first, he held perfectly still, just to experience the sensation. Her lips were soft and smooth, and a faint, minty taste lingered on her tongue, mingled with the spices and seasoning from the meal they’d shared. She was moist and warm and soft and perfect. And Cyrus could hold back no longer.

His body responded in kind. His mouth captured hers again and again, claiming her. His hands fell to her waist, holding her against him as their lips grew more insistent. More urgent. Her tongue slid into his mouth, twining with his. His teeth grazed her bottom lip, and she sighed against him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her hands sifting through his hair. When one finger nudged his horn, Cyrus growled against her mouth.

“Take me, Cyrus,” she commanded. “For I am yours.”

ONE

PRUE

He gave up part of his soul.

For her.

Prue still couldn’t comprehend it. This other witch—Jade—had tried to take it from him by force. But Cyrus had freely given it to Prue. She hadn’t even asked for it. And he’d done it to save her.

That thought alone was enough to fuel her desire. Cyrus might claim to be a monster—and he was. He was ruthless and cruel and savage.

But he was capable of love. No matter what he claimed, Prue knew this to be true.

“Make love to me,” Prue said, putting as much authority into her voice as she could. But he was a god, and she a mere mortal. How could she command him?

He drew back, his mouth quirking into that devastating smile she both loved and hated. “Yes, my lady,” he growled, his sensuous tone both a suggestion and a promise.

With one quick motion, he hefted her up, her legs still wrapped around his middle, and easily carried her over to the bed. He deposited her with great care, easing her backward onto the bed so she lay sprawled before him.

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