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Hehadn’tsaid it was because he didn’t want me. He’d said I had been too young. And that heated moment in the woods—had it been longing that flashed behind those yellow eyes? Maybe this inexplicable longing I felt for him wasn’t as one-sided as he made it seem.
Tomorrow I’d be a grown demon female, and I was determined to convince him that I definitely wasn’t too young or naive anymore.
Chapter 3
My hands were red and raw by the time I was done scrubbing and it was nearing midnight. Climbing down the rope ladder near the bonfire was a test of pure will, my hands screaming at me as I descended every rung. My back was aching, pain shooting up and down my shoulder blades, and all I really wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep.
People were already out in full force, excited to have extra celebrations this week on top of Beltane. Mortals and demons alike were laughing and drinking and waiting excitedly to see what powers would emerge from me at midnight.
My stomach swooped at the cheer that went up when I finally descended the ladder. I tried not to grimace at the attention.
“Hands bothering you?” teased a gruff male voice behind me. I turned and glared at Herne, despite the fact that my rapid demon healing was already starting to soothe the blisters that had formed from intense scrubbing. “Serves you right. That was a good horse.”
“It wasn’t my fault he was startled and ran,” I grumbled, stomping toward the bonfire feeling decidedly unhappy about my impending birthday.
“Itwasyour fault that he wasn’t safe in the stables,” Herne retorted, smirking down at me. He seemed in a much better mood after I’d suffered with dishes all afternoon. Bastard.
The good mood didn’t last long. Herne’s face twisted into a snarl. “Carnon, get down from there!” he bellowed.
“Yes, sir!” came the squeak of my brother as he was hauled off the edge of the blazing bonfire, where he had been balancing precariously.
“Gods, that boy,” Herne said roughly, running a hand down his face. “He’s too brave for his own good.”
“Comes from living his life in the treetops I suppose,” I replied, nudging him with my shoulder playfully. “I’m sorry about the horse.”
Herne sighed again, turning his baleful gaze on me. Another one of those heated flashes lit his eyes, gone so quickly I might have imagined it. “You’ll be the death of me, too. Let’s hope the Goddess blesses you with speed tonight so you can catch him next time he nearly falls in a fire.”
I laughed, feeling warmth coil in my gut despite my annoyance with Herne. This was how I liked him best. Teasing and a little grumpy, and unguarded. Not Herne, the Daemon Lord of Beasts, but Herne, my friend and Carnon’s protector.
I took his arm in mine and leaned against him a little as we walked toward the bonfire together. I wondered if the rest of the city saw his relationship with me as a kind of forced partnership, as Herne clearly did, or as something more. The fact that he was so much older than me should probablynotarouse me the way it did. Curse my stupid heart and it’s stupid infatuation, and my other body parts with their stupid needs.
Herne deposited me on one of the log benches that surrounded the bonfire and took his place before the fire, preparing to announce the moment midnight hit and my powers should emerge. Carnon flopped down next to me, his hair a tousled mess from whatever he had been doing all afternoon.
He grinned. “Excited?”
“When you are a little older, birthdays become much less exciting,” I told him, tilting my head down to look at him.
“But this isthebirthday!” he exclaimed. “I can’twaitto finally get my powers.”
“All in good time, little brother,” I sighed, trying to rub an aching spot on my back. How much damage had the long ride done to me?
“Blessings, children of Cernunnos,” Herne intoned, his voice carrying loudly across the clearing and hushing the many revelers who had joined us. “Tonight, one of our own will come into her powers. Arise Cerridwen, and let the blessings of the Goddess flow through you.”
The crowd clapped and cheered as I rose awkwardly, the bright North Star clear above us marking the time as almost midnight. I stood as the crowd whooped and chanted, and the drums beat out a rhythm that matched my pounding heart. Carnon hopped excitedly next to me, and Herne stood before me, arms crossed in his typical statuesque pose, a single brow raised as he watched for signs of my powers emerging.
Nothing happened for what felt like several hours, but was probably only minutes. I shot Herne a look of panic, but his raised brow told me to wait.Patience, he would often tell Carnon and me,is clearly a virtue you both lack.
I gasped, doubling over as pain like fire rippled down my back, the crowd hushing again as they watched.
“Cerridwen?” Carnon asked in a small voice, putting a hand on my arm. “You okay?”
“I’m—”
A scream tore from me as the fire down my back exploded, pain wrenching through every nerve as something ripped from me. Carnon screamed, and the crowd cheered. How could they cheer when I was clearly dying? It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, and it wouldn’t stop and—
The pain stopped as suddenly as it started, and I sagged. Herne caught me before I hit the floor, and Carnon’s scream had turned to whoops and cheers as he joined the crown in celebration.
“What—” I started weakly as I looked up into Herne’s owl-like eyes. He was holding me strangely, his arm around my low back rather than my shoulders. The heavy weight of something dragged me down, and a faint breeze stirred my hair as I tried to move.
