“There shall be no more trapping. My lovers are wild and free. You’ve seen this Gateway before. Some warning that it intended to squash us would’ve been nice.”
Sleipnir huffed. “By the Norns, it didn’t act like an aggressive guard dog before. But then, your magic appears to have pissed it off.”
I narrowed my eyes. “How flattering. It believes me more threatening, a challenge, or…wicked.”
I dragged Sleipnir to crouch over Bask and Fox, who were tangled together like they were only sleeping back in our bedroom and any moment would wake up.
Except, I knew that wasn't true.
All of a sudden, I was shocked by the memory of Prince Lysander’s distress, as he’d crouched over Midnight. The vampire’s wings had been broken by Principal Damelza’s hex because the Princes had lost the Rebel Cup.
Lysander must love Midnight, just like I loved Bask and Fox.
The Immortals lay at the entrance to the ruins, which was a tumbledown stone house. The ceiling was caved in at one side. Almost five hundred years ago, this had been where the last Blessedly Charmed witch before me had been forced to live, isolated from everyone to keep her magic pure. Perhaps, her family had been afraid of her power.
Had mine…?
The hairs on my nape rose at the thought of her stuck out here alone, only able to stare longingly at the life inside the castle.
I'd take being wicked over that any day.
Yet I could feel her power, which reached out of nature like an echo. It was still trapped here. It wound around me, leeching into my faded magic and reenergising...strengthening...it. I ducked my head in case the Gateway realized the way that the new strength was bleeding back into me.
I pressed my fingers to Bask's lips; his breath ghosted across my skin.
Thank Hecate.
I shivered in relief.
Then I turned to Sleipnir, and my expression became steely. "Holding onto your mane, as we rode together through the snow, was the most freeing experience of my long, long life. Don't ever hide again."
Sleipnir flushed, clenching his jaw, but he saluted. He had excellent manners when he tried.
Bask's uniform of pink blazer and tie with black pants, was ripped, revealing his alabaster skin beneath. I itched to pet him like he loved. Instead, I forced myself to lean down, pushing his silky ebony hair away from his ear.
"You please me.” My lips grazed his ear on each word, and my magic that was imbued with the thrilling power of my Blessedly Charmed ancestor coiled out of the ruins and around him, until he was cocooned in sizzling pink. Pleasing your bonded fed an incubus' power, and I didn't care that the Duchess thought she had a claim over Bask; I was the one who'd save him from dying. "You shall always please me. Once, I told you not to say always but I was wrong because I shall always save you. Without you, there's no pleasure or life for me. You're my pleasure: my Crave. My immortal love."
Bask's eyes shot open, and his adoring ruby gaze met mine. My breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze, and the way that he raised his gloved hand to stroke down my cheek in a gesture that was deeply intimate for an incubus, before skimming it along my jawline. My pulse fluttered in my throat.
He was alive...
Sleipnir let out a choked sound, as he dropped to his knees in the snow and clasped Bask's hand. "Odin's cock, I'm sorry."
Bask's expression softened. "Let's not bring a bad bastard like Odin or his cock into it. Pet me."
I kissed his petal soft lips, and his breath against mine was life after death. He smelled of coco and almonds, and I wished to devour him.
Then Bask squirmed. "This isn't a comfortable pillow nest."
I blanched, grabbing him by the shoulders to still him. "I'll be certain to tell Fox when he...wakes up."
Bask's eyes widened, and he scrambled around, tumbling into Sleipnir's lap. "Fix my foxy," he demanded, gesturing wildly at Fox, who lay sprawled across the ruins’ entranceway. "And I don't mean cut off his balls because they’re important to me, as well as to him."
Fox must've hit his head on the corner; his forehead was bruised and swollen. I wished that I could just kiss it away, but his injury was worse than Bask's. I reached out a shaky hand, tracing the purple outline, as I cradled Fox. I smoothed his blond curls back from his forehead. He was so cold in his thin whipping boy uniform; his skin was like ice.
Yet I was even colder. How could I warm him?
Fox's face was pale. It was unnatural for him to be silent and still. Fox was a whirlwind of words and hyperactive movement. I never wished for him to be silenced again.
I couldn't lose my mage. Not like this...please, not like this, not like...
My magic burst out in a storm that buffeted the ruins in my grief. Pink snow swirled from the clouds, blinding me.
"Valhalla!" Sleipnir yelled above the roar of the storm. "We haven't lost him yet. Seriously, control yourself and remember that our incubus has the power to heal, if we feed him enough pleasure." Bask slipped over Sleipnir's lap, and his eyes glittered with a predator's light. "How about I command you?"
Bask cast Fox a final concerned glance, before he smirked at Sleipnir. "How about I command you, Slippy?"
Sleipnir swallowed. "You're kind of freaky when you come over all dominant. Okay, whatever supercharges you."
I nodded. "My crow familiars have often told me that fast and dirty is quite a charming approach."
Sleipnir flushed again. Was fast and dirty not a popular style?
Bask clapped his hands together, and his eyes gleamed. "Fast and dirty coming up."
Mist, the tiny eight-legged horse who I'd created in transfiguration class out of my magic and the special plectrum that Loki had given Sleipnir, poked his head out of Sleipnir's pocket. Sleipnir's emotions were magically shown in Mist, even if he tried to hide them. He whinnied with excitement, pawing at the air like he could gallop to me.
When I laughed, Sleipnir glared at Mist, pushing him down into his pocket. "This is for my eyes only. Well, unless you count the incubus."
"You always count the incubus," Bask declared.
Sleipnir turned me, hauling me close to his hard chest. I could feel the thud, thud, thud of his rapid heartbeat against mine. I wished to make him lose himself, until the anguish clouding his eyes and vibrating through him was gone, and there was nothing left but our love.
I vanished the skirts and my inconvenient layers of undergarments, allowing myself a smile at Sleipnir's appreciative groan.
Well, we were going for fast.
Bask tutted. "As much as I love the sight of your fine arse, did I say you could do that?" My word, I hadn't known that Bask had a stern voice. I certainly hadn't imagined that it’d make me shiver so deliciously. "Slippy, punish her."
Sleipnir met my eye, and I nodded my permission. His hand cupped my tit, rubbing across my nub in teasing circles, and his other slipped between my thighs. I widened my legs in encouragement.
If this was punishment, let me be wicked.
"Lower," Bask commanded.
Sleipnir's fingers dipped lower, thrusting into my pussy. I flushed at the way that Sleipnir held me on display for Bask.
Bask crawled closer with predatory danger. His ruby gaze never left mine. "Crook your fingers. See how that's pleasing her? Faster now, and deeper. Tease her with your other hand."