Page 59 of Godless Saints

“Fine.” He pushed me toward the door. “Winter rose garden. Midnight.”

I let him push. Not because I was done.

I reached for the ring resting on his clothes. Moon walked straight into me and grunted. I grabbed his wrist, pressed the ring into his palm, and closed his fingers around cold silver. “Wait. I want you to have it. Keira helped pick the style and—”

Moon looked up. Eyes wide. “You talk about me to your family?” Pure panic. That elegant mask cracked wide. We’d been doing so well until now.

He didn’t pull away. Fucking progress.

“Yeah.” I scratched the back of my neck. “You can trust them. They won’t say shit—”

He kissed me. Quick. I froze. Fuck. I’m so stupid for this guy.

“You’re not ashamed of me?” His voice scraped. “Of us?”

I laughed once, then killed it. He’s dead serious.

“No. Why the fuck would I be ashamed of us?”

He looked away. “I don’t know. Your family isn’t homophobic? Or the fact we’re supposed to hate each other… publicly. And inside, apparently.”

Moon slid the ring onto his finger. My chest fucking fluttered. Cartoon hearts exploding behind my eyes. Couldn’t kill the grin.

“No. My family’s never given a fuck. I’ve always been gay.”

Cheeks went crimson again. Delicious.

“What—you’re gay?”

I huffed a laugh. “Yeah? I just kissed you and stroked your cock, Moonshine.”

“I thought maybe you were bi. Or manipulating me.”

“No. I’m gay. Women are fine. I have no interest in fucking them.”

He stared at me, suspicion plain, then back at the ring. Shoved me toward the door. Hard. “Go. I’ll see you at midnight.”

I was still grinning when the door nearly took my face off. He’d said yes.

Sweet fucking thing.

CHAPTER 14

MOON

I shouldn’t have come. And yet my feet kept moving.

The winter rose garden was freezing. Frost clung to the black thorns. My breath fogged in front of me as I slipped through the fractured glass door, the cold biting straight through my hoodie. Moonlight cut through the misted glass in sharp lines. Every step cracked my control wider.

I kissed him. Third time. I really needed better impulse control. Midnight anyway, heart trying to punch through my ribs. A Blood Writ on me, for fuck’s sake. I barely recognized myself around him anymore.

The door hadn’t even clicked shut before hands grabbed me. Cillian shoved me back against the cold glass. The shock burned through my hoodie. His body pinned me there. His mouth crashed into mine, swallowing the words.

I bit him back harder. He groaned into my mouth, hips grinding forward until I felt him thick and ready. My cock answered instantly, traitor.

“Missed you,” he rasped, hands shoving under my hoodie, rough palms scalding bare skin.

“Shut the fuck up,” I said through my teeth, dragging his mouth back.