Page 14 of A Single Thread Of Hope

He kissed me again, but they were lazy, gentle kisses, relaxing more than arousing. Eventually, he pulled off his shirt and lay down beside me, and we just lounged to the sound of the birds in the trees and our combined heartbeats.

My stomach growled softly, rousing me from my near trance-like state of chill. Nate chuckled softly, kissing the top of my head. “I’ll get you something to eat?—”

“Néit!”

The sound of Tryp’s shout had Nate scrambling to the edge of the lounger. “What is it?” He sounded panicked, and my heart thumped.

“There’s someone at the door for you!”

Nate looked over at me, a frown deep in his brow. Only one person knew where we were, and I trusted her completely. She’d saved our asses.

“Could it be?” I asked, and he shrugged.

“Stay here.”

He was off then, but if he thought I was staying here, he’d lost it. I scooted off the lounger and waddled as fast as I could toward the front wall of the compound, slipping around the outside of the place instead of through the house. Sure, my belly barely fit through the gap between the corner of the building and the wall, but I still made it around to the door just as Nate bounded down the stairs, Milo at his back. I hid off to the side as he flung the heavy gate open.

On the other side was exactly who I’d thought it would be. “Néit, you big, burly fucker. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Hurrying over, I ignored the pissed look Nate gave me with feigned innocence.

Clio’s face lit up. “Wren Mahone, you look as radiant as ever. Being thricely knocked-up and baking in this Goddess-forsaken heat suits you.”

I laughed, because there was definitely a compliment in there somewhere. “It’s good to see you, Clio.”

She raised a brow, and it was then I noticed that Nate was so tense, his body was like stone. “Not as good as it is to see you right now. It makes it less likely that Néit will tear my head off,” she said beneath her breath. “Remember, you big dummy, that you need all the help you can get.”

Clio stepped away to reveal the woman behind her. She was beautiful, with hair so black, it seemed to absorb the sun, and eyes as dark as night. Her lips were red and full, though somehow, I didn’t think it was lipstick. Gold streaks flared from her like fireworks, but even if I couldn’t see her fate threads, I’d have known immediately that she was a Goddess.

“Wren Mahone, this is?—”

Nate glared at Clio, shutting her up. “This is my Badb.” He pronounced it likebay-ve.“My ex-wife.”

The fuck?

The woman smiled, and in the expression, I could see a thousand deaths. “You may know me as the Morrigan.”

Someone behind me whistled, and I heard Tryp whisper, “Holyshit.”

That was an understatement.

Chapter 8

NATE

Aface that I’d stared at for a thousand years, that had haunted me for a thousand more, looked back at me with one perfectly raised eyebrow. To some, that would sound romantic, but I meant haunted in a nightmare sense. We were a terrible match, bound only by blood and death, which was hardly a foundation for a good marriage.

They didn’t call her the Queen of Nightmares for no reason.

“Hello, Néit.”

She still sounded exactly the same, with the voice that made grown men piss themselves and pop an erection in equal measure, and the sarcasm that made me want to stab myself in the ear for at least seven centuries.

I turned to Clio. “Thefuckwere you thinking, Cliona?”

Thebean-sidheI’d formerly considered a friend gave me a stubborn look. “I was thinking that if you’re fighting monsters like Typhon, then you need some big guns. Someone who likes to fight and win. Someone whose battle cry can bring down a hundred men. Someone who gives a shit if you live or die.”

I gave her an incredulous look. “And your mind went to my ex-wife?”

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