Pits & Poison: These Godly Lies (The Peaches and Honey Duology Book 2)

by R. Raeta

Anna has lived through more lifetimes than any mortal should, but she has never felt like a goddess, not until Khiran started looking at her like this.

The corner of Khiran’s mouth twitches, a suppressed smile. “What do you think?” he asks in perfect French. “Shall we admit to living in sin, or will you drag me to the nearest chapel and make an honest man out of me?” Anna rolls her eyes, swatting his arm. “I’m a modern woman. I demand a proposal on bent knee.” His eyes darken, the curl of his mouth turning suggestive. “You know I have no qualms kneeling for you. Shall I remind you of my devotion tonight, my love?”

“You really do love her… don’t you?” Anna stills, listening for his response. Khiran breathes a laugh. “Love is too small a word,” he murmurs, “but I suppose it will do.”

One wrong move and it feels like they both will shatter, but there are no hands Anna trusts more than the ones that hold her now. She looks at him. Sees all the ways his pain matches her own.

“It can’t be for nothing, Anna. You have to try. If you don’t, if they find us here and they take you, I will never forgive you. Do you understand?”

Khiran steps to the side, effectively shielding her from the other man’s view. “Don’t.” His answering smile is coy. “Surely you wouldn’t come to my door asking for help but deny me the simple pleasure of at least looking at the woman you’re so ready to die for?”

“Do you think you’re the only one who opposes him?! The only one who wishes to see him gone?!” Khiran’s shoulders stiffen, his answer tired. Resigned. “I’m not fighting for a side. I’m fighting to keep her safe.”

“You can’t possibly be asking me that. Anna, victory could be written in the stars, and it still wouldn’t be enough to convince me to risk you.”

He will gladly live in shackles, if it means she remains free to fly.

“You understand that we practice celibacy here? You put your marriage above your faith?” “For me, they are one and the same,” he says, turning to face her.

“Loving her is the closest I will ever come to enlightenment.”

At night, Khiran teaches her the art of silence—silent gasps, silent pleas for more. In the privacy of their room, they practice their own way of worship, whispering devotions against each other’s skin and finding salvation in each other’s touch.

“You’re beautiful.” Breathless, she smiles. “Is that what you’re thinking?” “More or less.” His gaze dips lower, to her lips. “I’m afraid the rest is not suitable for public.” It’s a statement, but all Anna hears is the unspoken promise in it. “Maybe we should go somewhere more private, then?”

Khiran’s knuckles brush her own. “This is Anna, my…” he falters, eyes meeting hers. “My person,” he says, voice soft. “My heart.”