Page 165 of Godless Saints

Moon’s mouth twitched. “Maybe we’ll discover a new one tonight then.”

“I’ll bring wine, grapes, cheese, crackers. You get the blankets and pillows. We’ll be down there for prime constellation watching.”

His eyes glittered. I moved closer and drew him against my chest until he melted into me. He buried his face in my neck, arms locking around me.

“A chroí,” I murmured against the top of his head. “I love you so much.”

“Fuck.” He rubbed at his face. “Look what you keep doing to me.”

He quickly brushed at his face, wiping away tears. I caught his wrist, thumb stroking the damp skin.

“Nah. You’re beautiful. Happy tears are allowed. I’m okay with happy tears.”

EPILOGUE 1

MOON

FIVE YEARS AFTER EVERMOURNE ACADEMY

Fifteen minutes late. The elevator crawled. I stabbed the button until my finger screamed. The stranger beside me glared. Polite smile. Keep stabbing. Faster. Harder. Doors finally opened.

I bolted out of the elevator, through security, burst onto the street. Whistle sharp for a taxi, arm already waving.

A black SUV idled at the curb. The driver stepped forward. “Mr. Moon. Mr. Ashbourne sent me. I’m to take you to Le Veilleur.”

My hand dropped mid-wave. Of course he did. I slid into the back seat before my pride could stop me.

I pushed through the restaurant doors at Le Veilleur, pulse still refusing to settle. Soft light, low conversation. There he was. Leaned back, arm draped along the seat, scarred fingers loose around his glass. Emerald eyes found mine. That slow, knowing smile carved dimples I still felt in my spine.

Fuck. Still the same. Years later and my body still sold me out first. I crossed the room too fast and slid into the seat across from him. Heat crawled up my neck. “Meeting ran long.”

Waiters appeared. I ordered water. Cillian lifted his glass, watching me over the rim.

“Paperwork from the agency. You read it?”

My stomach hollowed out. I pulled out my phone. Cillian plucked it from my fingers before I could scroll.

“Breathe, prince. I’ll fill in the blanks. You’re spiraling again.”

The waiter brought water. I drank it down fast, the cool liquid useless against the heat still crawling my throat.

“I like adoption. A kid who actually needs the home we can give.”

My fingers tightened on the table edge. “You'd be the one they ran to when they had nightmares.”

Cillian’s knee pressed mine under the cloth, heavy. “But?”

I laughed softly.

“Selfishly?”

I looked up at him.

“I want our kid to have your eyes.”

Cillian went still. His gaze dropped to the table, before returning to mine.

“Really, prince?”