I squirmed at the shocking intensity of the pleasure. Sleipnir's breath gusted hot against my neck. His prick pressed hard and ignored against my hip, but he didn't appear to notice because all his focus was on me.
Both my lovers were lost in my pleasure, and I was carried away on it.
When Sleipnir locked his legs around me, drawing me even closer, I groaned.
It was too fast, too much, too...
Bask's face was almost touching mine. When his tongue darted out to wet his plush lips, devouring my pleasure, I darted out my own tongue to capture his. I might be the one arching in a haze, but Bask's pupils still dilated. I crushed my mouth to his.
Then he drew back. "Now kiss her," he breathed, "like she's life itself."
Bask turned my head to hold me in place for Sleipnir, as he kissed me as slowly as his fingers thrust rapidly.
The difference broke me, pushing me over the edge. My hands clutched onto Sleipnir’s thighs, and my eyes fluttered closed.
"If you desire it," each word that Bask purred was like honeyed sin, "come."
My magic burst out in a wave of pink sparkles, before unfurling within me in wracking spasms. As Sleipnir worked me through it, my black mists stroked over him, until he was panting too.
At last, Sleipnir kissed me again and chuckled against my lips. "Was that fast and dirty enough for you?"
He wrapped his arms around my waist.
"Delightfully." I rematerialized my skirts with a modest wriggle.
Truly, modest.
When Bask pressed his gloved hand to my cheek in thanks, my breath caught because he didn't need to say a word: the gesture meant thanks for allowing an incubus to take control, rather than be controlled, to take pleasure, rather than give it, and to feed his power to become strong.
It was thanks for everything that his ex-bond, the Duchess (who wished to claim him back on Sunday), would rip away from him.
Then Bask turned to Fox, pulling his still body to his chest.
Witching heavens, let this work.
Don't let me watch another lover die.
Bask hovered over Fox like he was about to awaken our mage like a fairy tale prince (as if from death), with a kiss. I held my own breath. Bask licked over the seam of Fox's lips, tonguing open his mouth. But then, ruby sparkles glittered a trail out of Bask's lips and into Fox's mouth.
Such beautiful magic... I'd sacrifice every moment of my freedom for it to work.
I truly did love Fox. Yet did I love all my Rebels with the same breath-taking need?
I rather thought that I did.
Behind me, the Gateway growled as if in triumph. I twisted around, as the Gateway stalked towards us.
"No matter how villainous a rock you believe yourself to be," I snarled, "I'm the wicked witch of this academy. Now, as my crow familiars would say: fuck off."
"Well said," a voice rasped, just as a hand clasped mine. "What did I miss? Did Bacchus just teach a class on Swearing and Spells because that would be brilliant…"
I spun back to Fox, stopping his bewildered rambling with a kiss. His lips still fizzed with Bask's magic, and I sucked at the combined taste of coco, almonds, and raspberries.
Fox was alive.
Yet he was shivering, and his skin was frozen.
As one, Bask and Sleipnir threw their coats on him, before tumbling on top of him. He let out a startled oomph. We fell together in a laughing heap of life and love, in the shadow of ruins and death.
Soon, we'd have to face our mission. But for now, let us have this.
When Fox spluttered, pushing a coat arm off his face, Bask cast a wink at me. Then he tied his coat around Fox's waist, rubbing Fox’s legs to warm him (and I was certain by the tenting in his pants enjoying the touch as much as Fox). Sleipnir grinned, then he pulled his coat over Fox's shoulders, and Fox burrowed further into it, sniffing at the collar with a satisfied sigh like Sleipnir's scent was coming home.
Mist peered up at him and gave a low nicker. Fox patted him.
I smothered my laugh in the back of my hand because Fox looked adorable bundled in the coats, and equally adorably uncertain of how to react to others caring for him.
I'd change that.
"Wow, horse riding is more exciting than I remember." Fox's smile brightened. "Can I go again?"
Sleipnir’s lips pinched. "You'd trust me after...?"
Fox grasped Sleipnir's chin, forcing him to meet his eye. "I've never ridden a god before, and I've ridden a lot of exciting things: a goth unicorn, bad-tempered kraken, and a drunk Pegasus. Okay, so that didn't end well...okay, more like don't drink and fly." I'd missed my hot pathological liar. "But don't they say that if you're thrown, you should get straight back into the saddle?"
"Don't they also say," Sleipnir growled, "that if you piss off the horse, it spanks you?"
Fox let go of Sleipnir, backing against me like I'd defend him. Foolish mage, he incited a god at his own behind's risk.
Perhaps, that should be in the Rebel's Mottos. I'd put it in the Suggestion Box for Damelza.
"Only at kinky witch parties. My cousin once told me about them." Fox wrinkled his nose.
“Can I stop him talking again?” Sleipnir muttered. At my censorious glare, he raised his eyebrow. “Too soon?”
"You know, the ones where the horses have to push their tails some place more uncomfortable than yours,” Fox continued with pretend innocence like Sleipnir simply didn’t understand him.
I coughed, reddening. Certainly, this new age invented wonders that even my familiars hadn't fantasized, and after over a hundred years stuck alone together, they’d fantasized a lot.
"Uncomfortable but fun," Bask added. When we all stared at him, he pinked. "I'd imagine."
Fox tapped my knee. "Is it just me or is that freaky stone closer than before?"
I only just had time to look up, before the Gateway rushed up with a howling roar. It thrummed with fury, and just for a moment, I was fascinated by the sharp point at its center almost like the nose in a human face.
What knowledge hid inside this angelic library, which was much more than simply transport between realms?
Then I shook myself. Knowledge tempted with dangers, as much as the quest for power. The House of Crows had always searched for both.
My magic reached out like ivy, tangling around the Gateway to hold it back. "Inside!" I hollered.
The Immortals scrambled backward through the entranceway into the ruins. My magic battled with the Gateway’s.
The ancient power sparked and hissed, but I didn't think that it was trying to defeat me. Rather, us Rebels were the sheep being herded to our slaughter.
I stumbled back, and Fox caught me in his arms, then the stone slab slammed over the entrance, shutting us in the black like a tomb.
I shuddered, as the darkness enshrouded me. The air was stuffy and rich with the incense laden magic of the Blessedly Charmed witch, who'd been shut away here for her entire life five hundred years ago. I could breathe in her ghost, even when the rest of her had faded. How powerful must her magic have been that I could still feel it?
They pretended to worship her, but this had been her prison.
"You feel that?" Fox whispered. His hand slipped from my waist to clasp mine. "It's echoes of magic."