And then the moment shattered in an explosion of heat and light as their mutual pleasure eclipsed. She spilled moonlight into his body that hardened his muscles, bulking them outward. He pummeled her sweet channel, jagged shards of electric delight delivered inward and sparked from his hand at her breast.
The strength of their sharing made them both cry out. In the distance, he heard the slamming of the bed frame against the wall and floor, the shudder of the house, the tinkle of the overhead chandelier, but he couldn’t stop. The moment stretched and darkness fell around them.
When he came back to himself, he jerked, his eyelids slamming open. Fear gripped him. He’d lost himself. Had he harmed her?
But she was wound around him, arms and legs holding tightly to his frame. Her mouth showered his face with kisses.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she sobbed, drawing him deeper and deeper. They were one, blended in light and electricity, the air sizzling around them, sparking, humming.
He rolled and brought her over him. Waited as she dragged deep breaths into starved lungs. He stroked her back, her buttocks, nuzzled her cheeks.
“Bryn.”
Everything inside him, every thought coalesced in that one word. She was everything. His heart, his mate, his love. Together, they were more powerful. He felt it with a bone-deep certainty. As he drew away, pushing back her hair and framing her lovely face, he knew he’d never forget this moment. Until he drew his last breath, she was imprinted in his mind.
“Do you think they noticed?” she asked, a sleepy smile turning up the corners of her mouth like a kitten’s.
“Sweetheart, I think the heavens heard.”
Chapter Seven
In the last fullness of the blue moon, they gathered in the field around the large oak. Torches burned, struck into the dirt. The women were nude, having gathered their nerve to shed their modesty with so many males in the clearing.
They’d drawn down the moon and stood with gleaming skin. They were evenly spaced around the oak, each guarded by three men who stood outside the torch-lit circle, facing outward. The witches had gifted each man with a final dance to empower them if they were called to battle.
A pearlescent glimmer now lit the men’s naked skin. Something the army gathering at the edges of the clearing couldn’t miss.
Ethan glanced back at Bryn. Her expression was serene. Trusting. In his strength, in their bond and the approval of her Goddess. After they’d made love that afternoon, Bryn had said she’d felt approval, a whisper in her ear the moment before they’d climaxed.
A blessing from above, he believed. Love had poured from them both, filled them both. They’d shared in each other’s power. When Bryn had glided a fingertip along his cheek, he’d felt a spark. A troll spark.
Above them, clouds gathered, wisping around the moon but never obscuring it. Distant thunder rumbled, glimmers of light bursting now and then in thick thunderheads. He glanced at Renner. Their god was with them too. Hammer ready. They were all ready, empowered, willing to throw down skin and fur, tridents and lightning. Ethan’s heart thudded loud and strong, the dull tattoo of pending warfare.
The Others encircled them, closing around the outer circle, dark figures dressed in black, faces darkened with earth and blood. They were armed according to their traditions—swords, tritons, teeth and fists.
Ethan’s stony fists would be his only weapons.
Approaching now, the hellhound let loose a fearful growl, his large paws kicking up clods of dirt. And there beside him, her hand clenched in the fur on his back, was Liliana.
Ethereal and deadly. Beautiful beyond compare. She glowed, but her aura wasn’t pure, didn’t shine like white pearls. It shimmered, red and cloudy, murky with evil. Her pale silvery eyes glowed like the hellhound’s. They’d bound their futures and their strengths.
Three tall gaunt men strode beside the pair, skin slightly gray, eyes completely black. Revenants, immortals who sat on the council due to their long memories. One of them lifted a thin hand and pointed a spindly finger, his gaze going beyond Ethan’s shoulder to Bryn. “You have broken with our rules.”
A shudder rippled through Ethan at the leathery tone of the old one’s voice. He drew a deep breath and fisted his hands tighter at his sides. He didn’t dare look back at Bryn to reassure her, not with the hellhound staring him down.
“Your rule wasn’t just,” her voice came, the lovely husky texture unbroken by any doubt. “I was bound against my will with Merrick. My Goddess has given me her blessing, allowed me my own choice. My own champion.”
The revenant canted his head to the side. He peered with his black eyes at Bryn and then at Ethan. His lips thinned, exposing the tips of his white fangs. “You are impudent. Disrespectful of your betters. Only a battle will determine who is blessed.” He shook his finger. “Know this, if your champion fails, you will both die.”
Ethan let out the breath he’d been holding, relieved the others would be spared. “I am her champion.”
“Of course you are, troll.” The revenant’s lips drew up in a derisive snarl. “You reach beyond your birth. Born a troll, you should have been satisfied to crawl out from under your bridge.”
Ethan’s back stiffened with anger blasting hot throughout his body. “I am a troll, and proudly so. I stand as champion for the witch and her sisters. Should I prevail, you will leave us alone. All of us. The women will have their choice of mates. The Others in this circle will stand outside your rule.”
The old one’s gaze swept the circle. “If he wins, you will be dead to us. Outside our protection. Banished forever. Should you cross paths with the righteous, there will be no sanctions should they kill you.” He drew back his head, lifting his chin. “Should you lose, troll, the witches will be returned to their masters. Your friends will be made slaves. All that you have achieved for yourselves will be lost.”
Ethan sucked in a deep breath. He glanced around him, at his friends. Their faces were drawn into harsh lines, but to a man, they gave him nods. “So be it. Unleash your hound.”
Before he had a chance to move away and brace for the impact, the hellhound lunged. Ethan was too close to the circle, too close to Bryn and the men next to him. He roared and grappled with the hound’s fur, afraid to release the hellhound in case it hurt those around him.
The hound went for his throat, teeth bared and snapping. Ethan gripped its neck and held it back, rolling with it away from the circle. His grip gave.
A snap ripped into his shoulder.
Ethan bellowed with rage.
The hellhound leapt away and Ethan pushed up from the ground, felt blood roll down his shoulder. He tried to curl his left fist, but it dangled there.
Fury beat inside his chest. He was far enough away now. Bryn, close your eyes! He roared and shook his head. Beat his chest with his good fist and wakened his inner demon. As quickly as he summoned it, his mind drew away, looking down on his body as he lumbered toward the hound.
“Water, Fire, Earth and Air,
Elementals, hear our prayers.
Wash away our warrior’s pain.
Make his fists as swift as licking flame.
Let the ground shake beneath his mighty frame.
Let winds blow, the sky bellow, and his mighty hammer crush.
Water, Fire, Earth and Air…”
He glanced toward the women, but their mouths weren’t moving. And yet he heard the chanting, felt it inside him, growing louder.
Liliana screeched and rushed past the old one, who caught her with one of his slender hands. Again, she shouted and jerked against his hold. “They’re interfering!” she said, pointing at the women. “They’re helping him.”