bianca.simas Anu was on probation. Again. Apparently, the current pantheon management had never heard about one of the three Morrígan being the goddess of land and livestock, which was just plain rude.
If her two sisters were going to play war with the current geopolitical situation, it was only fair that Anu wanted to supervise the very thing that would feed those soldiers.
The reasoning was solid. At least, it had been when she repeated it in front of the mirror that morning. In reality? Totally discarded by her supervisor.
“Oh, Anu, you have big shoes to fill.” Or even: “Anu, your older sisters have been carrying two wars for years all by themselves and still managing to keep their puppets in government offices.”
“Yeah, I know. They are soooo great at playing with drones.” Not.
Come on. If I really wanted to do war? Mine would be with the over-pompous men demanding to be at the front with the drums and the flags. My sisters letting them stay in endless meetings, wearing ties and shaking hands, was just their way of keeping it all going for years despite the level of destruction.
It wasn’t that Anu was bad at warfare or didn’t like death. It was that her wars created political change, liberation, social justice, and those types of wars didn’t last because they were usually fought by civilians.
So apparently now they think I need refresher training after keeping four populations fed through years of war because saying that I was helping my sisters have a next generation of soldiers didn’t convince them. I know, I know… even I didn’t believe that reasoning, but I needed to try.
Anu crossed the streets of Waterford. If she was being forced to do retraining, at least she would do it in her favorite city. She trained here when she was a wee goddess, and the doctor in the morgue taught her everything she needed to know before she helped with the war in 1919.
That was such a good war, even though she didn’t exactly pass with flying colors for letting it last only three years.
They don’t need to know that I chose here the first time because Mom was here during the Eleven Years’ War. I was the only one who sat down to listen to her tell the stories while Badb and Macha played with their wooden swords in the garden.
The blaa with butter and the local bacon also didn’t hurt.
Anu’s hand went to the Claddagh ring hanging from a necklace around her neck. The wind bit against her skin. Add being a coastal city to the famously unstable Irish weather, and it demanded heavier coats. Her long gray wool coat fell almost to her ankles, the charcoal-and-gray plaid of her wool skirt peeking out beneath it above a pair of black leather boots. The cobblestones were unforgiving against insensible shoes. Just the all-around perfect place to be miserable if you weren’t willing to sacrifice fashionable choices for reasonable ones.
It was Anu’s first time visiting the new morgue at University Hospital Waterford. She knew that her old professor was long dead, so it would be a bittersweet return, and the new facilities might help with her tendency to reminisce.
The building was separate from the main clinical wings. Thank goodness. There was not enough Guinness in Ireland to make me face college students in enclosed spaces.
Anu looked up in time to see the modern facility, all clean masonry and sharp aluminum lines. Its curved facade wrapped around a secluded, walled courtyard.
Inside, the design split sharply between comfort and cold reality; a circular, multi-faith prayer room featured a Celtic Tree of Life etched into the floor, while the isolated clinical wing housed stainless steel autopsy rooms and an elevated glass viewing gallery for forensic observation.
She liked those quiet moments more than anything. That was why a life in the fields, growing future bacon and future stout, was a perfectly acceptable goal. For her, at least.
Better than raising expectations. Cows could give me the best butter in the world. After so much time managing the consequences of my sisters’ decisions and all the collateral damage that came with them, making sure those populations didn’t have to rely on imports was the minimum I could do if management was demanding a year away from my fields.
The reception area smelled like cleaning products and formalin. Identification went smoothly, and she let herself look around and admire the enclosed garden when something tugged at her chest.
It was not a dramatic turn. I can guarantee that I don’t have an ounce of drama in my body. But it was a turn nonetheless, and that was when my crow peeked out from the back of my mind.
Gorgeous, mate.
No.
“You are late, and we don’t consider tardiness fashionable here, Mrs. Rigan.”
“I have been waiting for five minutes after arriving and checking in at exactly 8:30, good doctor. You made me late.”
He looked up from the clipboard, clearly preparing to argue, when he stopped and blinked. His eyes went black and back to stormy gray so fast that Anu almost didn’t notice. Fine, she did notice, but that sentence sounded more dramatic in her head.
Mate.
Shut up.
“I am Cillian. I mean, I am Dr. Burke, but you can call me Cillian.”
Anu’s hand went straight to her necklace, her mother’s Claddagh resting against her collarbone. She noticed his eyes following her hand and shining black again when they caught the ring.
Interesting.
Mate.
Yeah… I have been told, crow. Repeatedly.
“I am Ms. Rigan. I would say Doctor for my patients, but they have never talked back, so…”
I shrugged. Better not tell him about those two times they did, indeed, talk back before I helped them transition. No info dump on the first day.
The joke landed, and she saw that it did because apparently Dr. Burke had now upgraded to a dimpled version, which was utterly unfair, and she wanted to lick it.
No, I don’t.
Mate.
I know. We have established that.
“That was a good one. Heard it from my mentor twenty years ago, but it still lands.”
His voice washed over her, and she stepped closer, holding out her hand.
“I never claimed originality, but I am always happy to reminisce if coffee is involved. My name is Anu, by the way. Nice to meet you, Dr. Burke.”
“Anu,” he repeated my name and, before you accuse me of Hallmarking this first meeting, my name didn’t roll off his tongue. My name is three fucking letters. There is not enough alphabet in it to roll, to be honest.
“Ah, so you are one of those people who sold your soul to the coffee gods.”
“At least my crowd guarantees the existence of KPIs. Although, now that I think about it… not really good advertising.”
“On that we have to agree, Anu.”
“So… am I getting the official tour or the VIP back-hall pass?”
“Oh, I am definitely showing you the goods.”
“Cillian, goddess me, don’t threaten me with fun times.”
“I will try to make it boring. No promises, though. Follow me.”
Hmmmmm. Nice butt.
Mate! Human?
Not so sure, crow. The jury is still out on that.
Ours!
Yeah! I know, but you will need to give me time.
Time? Ok. Give him shiny heart.
I will think about it.
Good.
He took me through the corridors and straight into a big office with two desks, a round table, and a small counter against the wall by the entrance.
“This is home for the year, and that is your desk and your own three shelves.”
“You totally had your papers all over my desk, and they made you move them, didn’t they?”
He looked toward the window. The dimples were back. That game of making his dimples appear was fun.
“Yeah, well, that’s neither here nor there. I believe you demanded coffee for your morning prayers.” He stepped to the side, revealing a coffee machine ready to be pressed into action.
“Oh… she is gorgeous.”
“Yes, she is.”
And I want to be very clear here that I did not assume he was talking about me, but he was indeed looking at me.
“You may do the honors.”
I took off my coat and scarf, hanging them on the free hook behind the door, just beside two white lab coats and a huge black coat, and rubbed my hands together.
“You look like I just gave you a present.”
I shrugged, walking toward the coffee machine and jumping up to sit on the counter.
“I am easy to please.”
“Good to know.”
I am not ashamed to admit that I blushed. I am ashamed, though, of knowing that me blushing put a smirk on his face. Red alert! Pivot, pivot, Anu!
“We have a mini fridge too!”
“No Guinness allowed during office hours.”
“First of all, that was not disclosed by HR, and I will need to demand hazard pay.”
“We already have hazard pay. It’s called a personal coffee machine.”
“Huh. Okay. So, second of all, I was thinking about soda. We are a polytheistic group, so the worship can happen around the clock.”
“So… does this around-the-clock worship only happen with caffeine, or am I allowed to join just for the company?”
“We are a cranky bunch, though.”
“You have failed to present that particular evidence, Doctor.”
“I have, haven’t I? Maybe because I am rarely the worshipper.”
Anu, no!
Yes. Explain to mate. He worships us.
No, crow. Bad crow.
He was staring at her like someone inspecting something from all sides for traps before grabbing it with his hands.
Anu saw him take two large steps toward her and looked up when she realized she was trapped on the counter, Cillian—her new colleague for the next year—holding her there with both hands against the stainless steel surface, one on either side of her.
“How many men worshipped you, Anu?”
She looked up, startled by the growl in his voice.
“They didn’t… that’s not…”
“How many, mate?”
Yes, mate.
Crow, you should probably…
Yes, mate is crow.
Mate is crow? No.
Yes. Give shiny heart now.
“Is he talking to you, Anu? Saying that this little ring is mine to put on your finger? Because mine has been cawing in my head since he saw you playing with the Claddagh, mate.”
Her hand went straight to her necklace while the realization took a couple of seconds to catch up.
“That was my mother’s. She gave it to me because my sisters are married. I mean… they share a guy. Very 2026, very woke.”
“I don’t share, mate. If that is what you want…”
Anu raised both hands and pressed them against his chest.
“Definitely not! One is enough…”
She noticed Cillian’s amusement and his left eyebrow arching.
“I mean, I imagine one will be enough once I actually am in a relationship. Look, my sisters are fierce, and they decided to share. No way little old me could deal with all the choreography. I am neither flexible nor adventurous enough… but they do seem happy after spending a long time locked inside their house, though.”
Cillian pushed his chest against her hands, making her notice that she was very much still touching him, and whispered against her ear.
“Oh, you will be in a relationship, all right. Won’t you, a bhandia?”
WTF?
Anu turned her head toward him, only to realize just how close he was.
He called us goddess. He will worship us.
He leaned in, the gentle brush of his nose against hers making her breath hitch. In that moment, she locked eyes with him, and his shifted to black again.
Mate. Finally.
She closed the distance and kissed him.
Anu ended the kiss too quickly. Even she knew it was too quick. I mean, she’d had centuries of watching wheat and barley grow to read the romances, but what else did he expect her to do?
“Look, this is as far as I know how to go. If I am supposed to do something other than keep pressing our lips together, I will need a little help. Not that there is anything little about you. It is just…”
“Anu? Do you want me to show you how to kiss, a bhandia?”
Anu nodded, finally realizing that her social filter was failing her catastrophically, and pressed her lips against his again.
She felt the moment instinct took over. His hands moved from the counter to her hips, and his grip on her tightened.
He dragged the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip, and the moment she opened up for him, she felt his tongue slip past her lips and taste her own. The sensation was so foreign and delicious that Anu closed her eyes and let it overwhelm her like a wave running through her entire body.
I want to be very clear about this point in the conversation. If you have sensitive eyes and ears, just turn around and find something PG-13, because this stops now, ladies and gentleman. Yes, singular, because I don’t think a lot of men will be here watching me.
A low groan tore from the back of his throat, vibrating right against her mouth, making her shiver and go pliable against his body. He stopped kissing her, though, putting his forehead against hers, clearly trying to get his wits back.
“Cillian, people have pushed me, moved me, given me the what is best for you speech for decades. So if you are choosing to stop this for you, because you are not ready, I suggest you step away now and let me drink my coffee so I can get back to functioning-adult mode. But if you are up on a high horse thinking you have any right to decide for me, then I suggest you brace for impact.”
Good. Impact mate.
“You are right, a bhandia. I don’t want to step away. I want everything, and I am afraid of how much I want it.”
Anu let her eyes shift into Crow’s, then changed them back.
“Perfect, then we are in agreement. Now kiss me and come be the first to take me.”
“And the last, babe. Tell me I am the last, because I don’t care about being the only one who has ever had you, but I do care about being yours from this day forward.”
Anu nodded, unclipped the necklace, and placed it in the middle of his big hand. He cradled it reverently, slid the ring off the chain, and looked up at her.
“May I?”
She nodded again, her eyes tearing up.
“Left hand, heart facing in.”
I wish I could say that it was a beautiful and idyllic moment where both of us stood there looking at my mother’s ring, finally on my finger, sparkling against the cold morning sun peeking between the clouds, but the erratic Irish weather was offering an impressive downpour with no sparkle to spare and, as soon as Cillian was sure the ring was not going anywhere, we were back to kissing frantically.
“A chroí, I want… I need…”
“Yes, Cillian, me too, but wait…”
I was surprised to see that my words were able to cut through the fog that was currently turning this delicious doctor into a one-verb man.
“You should probably have thought about getting a couch for the office.”
“A bhandia, we will not get a couch in here. It is bad enough having to behave without load-bearing furniture.”
“Oh… okay. So what are you going to do if you are expected to behave?”
Cillian’s eyes shone with his Crow as he leaned toward her ear, making goosebumps rise along her arms.
“You are going to tell me if I can taste you, mate. Will you let me prove that I can be worthy of you?”
Yes, prove yourself to us.
He doesn’t need to.
I know, but Crow wants to.
You are insufferable. I gave him the shiny heart. Now let me enjoy it.
Yes. We enjoy now.
“Yes. I am saying yes to you in whatever way you think tasting me can be considered behaving.”
Cillian stepped between her thighs and brought her legs around his waist, kissing her until he felt her flush against his body. He picked her up, and she buried her face in his neck while he carried her to his table, disregarding the papers scattered around like a nest.
Anu felt his big hands guide her down and unhook her legs. She propped herself up on her elbows in time to see him sit in his chair like one of the ancient kings and push up her skirt.
He slipped off her cotton underwear. Yeah, cotton. Call the romance police. I do not use lingerie as armor, or makeup for that matter. I use armor as armor.
His deep voice brought her back to him. “Let me know if you want me to stop, mate. Promise?”
Anu nodded. “By the Goddess, I will.”
That seemed to be enough because he touched her gently, taking his time until she felt herself relaxing against the wooden surface.
She felt his hands gripping her thighs, grounding her as his attention became firmer, more purposeful. Anu moved her hips tentatively, trying to find more of him, and that made him groan against her skin.
He pulled back just enough to check on her. “Breathe for me, a bhandia.”
Anu did. She pulled in a ragged breath before he returned to her, reverent and hungry, consumed by her. Time seemed to vanish, and all she could focus on was sensation. When she started thinking she couldn’t take any more, the intensity finally tipped her over the edge, her body arching off the table as he stayed with her steadily through it.
When she opened her eyes, he was there, waiting for her to resurface. “Are you okay?”
“Okay doesn’t sound accurate enough.”
Chuckling, he asked, “What word does, then, mate?”
“I feel like you rewired something inside me.” She sat back up and met his mouth for a kiss.
“Good. That is how I feel too.”
“But I didn’t do anything to your… you know.” She gestured toward his pants.
“Oh… you did plenty, a bhandia. You taste delicious, and you came perfectly for me.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“Mhm…” He stole one more kiss and smoothed her skirt back into place. “Now, how are your legs? Can you stand?”
“I think so. Why?”
“Because we have a first-day shift to finish, babe. And later, I would like to take you home.”
“I would like that too.”
“Good.”
The next six hours were spent between archives, cool chambers, and processing bodies while trading stories and eye contact, since the eyes were the only visible part when one worked as a forensic pathologist.
Finally leaving the building, Anu felt like her axis had shifted, and this next year was not something she was dreading anymore. She was obviously dreading other things, like telling him the small detail of her being one of the Crow Goddesses and him becoming immortal when they mated. Just, you know, normal stuff that needed to be aligned when everyone started a new relationship.
Anu was so lost in him that she didn’t realize a group of six men had started circling them on a lateral sidewalk. Of course she would attract a murder of crows on her first day with her mate.
“Did you think you could walk away from your family, little Cillian?”
Crows.
Excuse you, shorty. Who are you calling little? Oh, wait. They are not here for me?
Cillian put her behind him. “I cut ties with you all. You haven’t been a family to me for decades.”
“Don’t be like that, Fledgling. You know we count on your big pay to buy shiny things like that one behind you. Why are you hiding her from your cousin, little Cilly?”
“Leave us alone, Baothán. I owed your parents for adopting me. I repaid that debt tenfold. Before they died, they released me from the flock and told you to leave me alone.”
“Yes, but they aren’t here now, are they? I need money and a good lay. It looks like you have both. We are six and armed, little Cilly. There is nothing you can do about it.”
“Yes, but they aren’t here now, are they? I need money and a good lay. It looks like you have both. We are six and armed, little Cilly. There is nothing you can do about it.”
Anu felt something inside her begin to vibrate.
She pressed her right hand flat against Cillian’s back. He leaned into her touch, pressing back against her palm, and for a moment they simply held each other there.
She could feel the shift of muscle beneath her hand as he braced himself to face six armed men.
He could feel her trembling and thought she was afraid.
Enough!
Her hand on his back kept him from turning, so he didn’t see that her wings came first.
They unfurled from her back, enormous and black, their feathers gleaming as they stretched outward. Her body followed, changing and growing until she towered two feet above the man still standing protectively in front of her.
Cillian saw Baothán’s face and those of his men go slack. His cousin’s gaze traveled upward, then higher still, fixed on something behind him.
That was when he noticed that Anu’s hand was no longer against his back and panic hit him. Someone must have gotten behind him and taken her, so he spun around, but what he saw was an enormous crow towering over them all, making Cillian stare up at her.
“Magnificent.”
I am your Goddess. I am one of the Morrígan, and you will show respect to me and my consort. NOW.
Her voice didn’t reach him through his ears. It filled his mind, larger than anything he had ever heard, the command vibrating through his body and flowing over him like a caress.
Baothán and his men weren’t so lucky, and six pairs of knees crashed against the pavement.
Cillian couldn’t have cared less because every bit of his attention was fixed on his gorgeous mate.
He lifted one hand toward her, then stopped just short of touching her.
“A bhandia.”
The enormous crow looked down at him, then she began to change, shrinking back into the petite, outrageously funny woman who had turned his life upside down no more than eight hours ago.
Anu reached for him, her palm settling against his cheek, warm against his skin, as their eyes met.
“Everyone’s a bhandia. Your mate.”
