I tense at the suspicious note in his voice. “I don’t! I just, um, read about her briefly when I was looking up my tattoo.”

There’s no way in this frigid hell I’m confessing that I researched the man and Ithaqua months ago in an attempt to find out what his cock might look like.

Except…I maybe did in the throes of carnal monster bliss—please don’t let Ilian remember that!

“And you feel guilty about this?”

My heart stumbles over its normal rhythm. “Guilty? What do you mean?”

Ilian scrapes his claws through the patch of fur between his horns. “The tattoo connects us—bonds us—and I can sense your emotions, especially the stronger that they are.”

Elohim Adirim, does this mean he feels what I feel, specifically when I’m—

“Soyam, I beg of you, please stop squirming. Yes, let’s get you dressed so we can talk. I can’t think around your worry and arous—”

He cuts off, but I know what Ilian meant. Lovely, the man obviously knows what a horny mess I am and the nervous wreck my brain is about him realizing this.

Rolling to the right, I drop partially on the bed but mostly on the floor in an inelegant attempt to create space between the two of us.

Cue another anxiety spike.

Again, the sweet monster tries to soothe me, but I dash into the bathroom with a handful of clothes that I hope contains everything I need to cover my body appropriately.

Once I’m decent, I crack open the door to find the bedroom empty. I wonder if Ilian’s left when a sharp tug in my chest has me whipping around toward the connecting room.

Ilian is sitting on the broken couch, his back to me. His head is bent, cradled in his hands, and a pang of unease slithers down my neck.

An invisible weight crushes my lungs as I try to inhale, and I whimper at the overwhelming sensations crashing through me.

Suddenly, Ilian is in front of me, on his knees once more. He tips my head upward to meet his glowing stare.

“I can’t breathe!”

“Easy, soyam, you can breathe. Follow my lead. In…and out. That’s a good girl.”

The abrupt panic attack dissipates as quickly as it came, and now I’m more concerned that I might melt into a puddle at his feet for calling me a ‘good girl’.

“Th-thank you. That was strange.”

“Again, that was my fault. Just as I sense your emotions, you can sense mine. I let myself wallow in the misery of hurting you with what’s happened, and in doing so…well, I just hurt you more.”

I raise a brow, giving him a soft smile. “I guess I’m not the only one feeling guilty.”

Ilian grimaces. “The worst you are culpable of is coming to my studio for a tattoo, but I…I have done much more. We-I-I mean, we slept together without your consent.”

His confession comes out of nowhere, and I understand my panic attack a little better. No wonder Ilian feels overwhelmed if he thinks this is what really happened.

“You didn’t do anything without my consent. I admit, I thought it was a dream because it seemed too amazing to be real. The truth is, I wanted it then.”

What I don’t add is that I still want it—and him—when I know I should be getting away as fast as possible.

But my words seem to ease some of the tension riding Ilian. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

He nods, sensing the sincerity through our bond, and some of the pressure on my chest lifts. “Ok. I will take your word. So you really don’t know Aisyth—you’ve never met her by accident?”

My brow furrows. “Met? She’s an actual person?”

Now the gorgeous Ithaqua before me scratches his bony brow. “Aren’t your gods and goddesses real?”

“It’s complicated. My God doesn’t live on Earth.”

“Ah, I see. Ithaquan deities still live here, though they travel around the world and only show themselves very rarely.”

“That doesn’t sound very promising if we need your Goddess to erase the ink and break our bond.”

Ilian drops his head, careful not to hit me with his horns. “I know. It won’t be easy, but I vow to you that we—I—will fix this.”

“Ok, what’s the first step? How do we find Aisyth?”

“We look to the ink. She always leaves a map hidden in the depths of the artwork that she inspires. This is how her followers can search out their muse and worship Aisyth…closer.”

“Closer?” My voice lifts at the end, not quite a screech, but still too high.

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of worshiping my goddess in such a manner. That’s only reserved for my mate.”

A lightbulb goes off in my head—I’m his mate.

“You want to worship me?”

Ilian lifts his head, his bright magenta gaze boring into me. “With every fiber of my being.”

My breath hitches at his sincerity.

And why do I want that so badly when all of this is just a mistake?

CHAPTER SIX

Ilian

One second, Zhuliya seems to revel in our mating bond, and the next, she’s drowning in fear of a commitment she didn’t even make.

The whiplash of emotions drains me, not that I deserve a reprieve. I meant it when I said it was my fault we’re in this, and it’s my fault her emotions are going haywire.

I tamp back the guilt. The last time I let it consume me, my mate had a panic attack, and I’m still mentally kicking myself over the confusion and terror that spread across her beautiful face.