Page 150 of Between Sun and Moon

Well, that answered that.

“What if I—” My eyes flicked back and forth between two gravel stones, larger than the rest. “What if I don’t want the bond between us?”

“It’s a bit late for that, goddess. You two have already forged as one. And even though Von hasn’t touched you in weeks, all I smell is his scent on you. You are his bonded, his fated mate—through and through.”

“But I never had sex with him,” I tossed in Folkoln’s face. Immediately, I regretted my bluntness.

“Are you sure about that?” He raised an insinuating brow.

Of course, I was sure. Yes, Von had given me a few orgasms, but it was from his tongue, not his—

Wait.

“Von and I had sex in my past life?”

“You are not the fastest goddess, are you?”

I shot him a look, my brain firing thoughts at a mile a minute. “So then if we’re already bonded, why does it feel . . . weak?”

“Because you died, Sage!” Folkoln exclaimed, his voice not loud enough to be a shout, but not quiet enough to be conversational either. There was an urgency to it. “You died in his arms, and it nearly destroyed him. When you returned in this life, without any memories, the bond for you isn’t as strong as it should be. Von believed that if you two were to join again, it would weld the bond back into place, reawakening those feelings in you whether you were ready for them or not.”

I shook my head, thinking back. That day in the woods, I’d wanted Von with such intense need that I had practically beggedhim. But he had all but turned me down. Was that so the bond wouldn’t be forged back into place? I sucked in a breath—understanding hitting me square on the chin. I had been searching for a reason to believe Von hadn’t just been using me, and there it was.

If he really wanted to get back at Aurelius, if that was his master plan, he could have forged the bond between us back then, and yet . . . he hadn’t. All because he wanted me to have . . .

Choice,my voice and Von’s said together.

Something Aurelius had never given me.

And yes, once upon a time, Von had taken my choice to create. And that was fucking brutal of him. But I could not ignore the fact that even though he did that, eventually, the past version of me had chosen to welcome him into my bed, to bond myself to him. And although I didn’t understand past me’s reason for doing so . . . I wanted to.

I wanted to know our story.

I looked to the bathhouse—I knew what I needed to do.

Sage

Saphira wasn’t in her room.

But if the breathy moans and heavy panting coming from the next room over were any indication, I figured I knew where she was. The scent of sex clung to the damp, warm air, and I bit back a gag. That was the last thing I wanted to be smelling, especially consideringwhoit belonged to.

While I tried not to upchuck my supper, Folkoln swaggered around the room, lazily inspecting where his sister had been living, a hint of intrigue written plainly on his features. Unlike Von, Folkoln’s footsteps were not silent—if anything, they were intentionally loud. The hard soles of his leather boots struck against the ground with each step, like the rhythmic ticking of a clock, counting down the seconds.

The sounds from the other room came to an abrupt stop. There was a splash of water, a loud bang—like a two hundred-pound potato sack had fallen onto the floor—and then—

“What are you doing here?” snarled a feminine voice from the doorway.

Standing there was Von’s sister, her sharp, long canines bared. A luxurious black robe adorned her trim torso, the subtle sheen of the material reflecting the candlelight. She tied it loosely at her waist. It covered her sex, but not enough to cover the swell of her breasts. Beads of water slid down her skin, soaking her robe and the spot where she was standing. Her hair, the color of a raven’s feathers, was drenched, the tendrils clinging to her slender neck and shoulders.

“Sister,” Folkoln said in flat greeting, his back turned to her as he plucked the lid off of a bone-carved dish and inspected what was inside.

But she didn’t reply, because by that time, her hateful gaze had landed on me.

A shiver spider-walked the length of my spine.

“You,” Saphira spat, her snarl turning feral. She took one threatening step towards me.

Did she recognize me from before? Von had placed some sort of magical veil over me, blurring my features from those who might do me harm. It had worked on Arkyn for quite some time before he figured out who I was, but now, without Von, I wondered if the veil was gone—which meant Saphira was seeing me for who I was—the Goddess of Life.

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