When Fox wiped his hands on the tea towel, a hush fell on the glade. The candle was a bright point in the dark, focusing the magical energy, until it pulsed at the base of the tree. The intoxicating scent of white sage wound around all of us, binding us together.
“Should we pray?” Fox’s tongue darted out, wetting his dry lips. “Except, I’m a mage, and there’s a risk that if I pray to Hecate, my balls will be struck by lightning.”
“We can’t have that.” Sleipnir appeared to be struggling to hide his smile. “There are different ways to complete the ritual and sacrifice.”
Sleipnir pulled out some of the technology that Echo loved so much from the tangle of coats, before a modern song burst out, filling the glade with more lust and longing than I thought was possible in music alone. Gently, each of the Rebels kissed each other in turn, before Bask pulled Fox to his feet and swayed to the music like his soul was part of it. Fox wrapped his arms around Bask’s neck, whilst Bask laid his head on Fox’s chest. Their pleasure and love fed me, winding me higher, until sparkles lit the glade, brighter than any candle. As Bask rubbed his hips against Fox’s, I swallowed thickly. Shaky, I skimmed my hand along my jawline, before pressing it to my throat; my pulse fluttered underneath my fingertips.
I sighed. Please, please, let me be brought to life…
I found that I didn’t want to die.
Sleipnir studied Bask and Fox tenderly for a moment, before he shuffled to kneel at the base of Hecate’s Tree in front of the candle.
My brow furrowed. He was so close to me now that I could’ve reached over to smooth the dip of his tense shoulders. It took vast restraint not to press kisses down the exposed back of his neck. His naked submission for my sake was the most exquisite thing that I’d seen since my death. At least it was, until he slipped the pendant off from around his neck, which held a silver plectrum, and placed it before the candle: his sacrifice.
Then I realized that he was shaking.
Whatever Sleipnir had just sacrificed was of great value to him, and that made this moment the most exquisite thing that I’d witnessed since my death.
Sleipnir rested his hand over the plectrum like a goodbye. “Honestly, I know that this may seem like a poor offering, Hecate, but trust me, it’s everything to me. Dad could never give my brothers and me much. He knew that I loved my guitar, however, and when I turned eighteen, he gifted me this.” He tightened his hands around the plectrum. “I’ve never taken it off. It’s all I have of dad, since the witches kidnapped me.” My eyes burned. I wanted to scream at him to take it back, but he hadn’t even glanced at me. His head hung down, and his hair covered his eyes. “But dad would want me to give it up to free you. He’d be proud.”
“I’m proud too,” I whispered.
Sleipnir’s head jerked up, and our gazes met. His eyes gleamed brightly with unshed tears. “What do you want from us?”
Well, this god certainly didn’t pull his punches.
I shot a look at Flair, who was still perched on my shoulder but more like a devil than a guardian angel. With a reluctant sigh, he flapped to join Echo.
Then I inched closer, before resting my hands on either side of Sleipnir’s head, pulling him towards me, until my lips grazed his on each word, “I want you to hold me, need me, love me.”
When Sleipnir claimed my mouth with a moan that echoed the yearning that had swirled for long decades inside me, his lips were hot and his tongue warmed me. He smelled of raspberries, almonds, and co-co; his bonding with Fox and Bask lingered in his kiss. I could touch all of them at once.
Bask stopped dancing with a gasp. “Either it pleases you to kiss thin air or you can see my Magenta.” He dragged Fox with him to crouch either side of Sleipnir. “What does she desire?”
When Sleipnir cocked his eyebrow at me, I became quite giddy with the power of such decisions.
Fox snickered. “Shouldn’t we be shagging over a pottery wheel?”
First, I learned that elves wanted to play with snowmen, and now that mages were intimate over clay. The world was strange indeed.
“I’d imagine that we should start with a kiss,” I tried for casual, but Sleipnir’s gaze was too knowing.
“She wants a kiss,” Sleipnir stated.
Fox’s eyes lit up, and a slow smile spread across his face. Then he wrapped himself around me with intense concentration and sucked on my earlobe. Wow, that tickled and wasn’t unpleasant.
Sleipnir chuckled.
“Would you mind terribly informing him that he’s missed my mouth?” I squirmed away. When Fox sat back, looking shyly happy though, I quickly added, “Wait. Don’t tell him that. Just… Pass on my thanks.”
“She says that you’re an awesome kisser, although not as good as me,” Sleipnir informed Fox.
Perhaps, I should fire Sleipnir as my interpreter.
Fox’s face fell, before he frowned. “You do remember that I’m literally able to tell when you’re lying?”
Sleipnir only patted Fox on the head, before Bask slunk lower, bending down like he was prostrating himself. “Hey, her mouth isn’t down there.”
“She didn’t say where she wanted to be kissed.” Bask glanced up at me teasingly from underneath his eyelashes.
On the witching heavens, I could almost believe that I wasn’t invisible. Even though the tips of my ears suddenly became red with embarrassment, I still nodded at Sleipnir who sat back.
Bask licked, as if testing for the coldness of the air, before nipping kisses up my thighs. I knelt up, allowing my dress to fade to mist, before widening my legs. Bask’s lips pressed to my inner thighs in worshipful lines. I struggled not to shield the most intimate part of myself, which I’d been taught no one but my husband had a right to touch. Yet that had been whilst I’d lived, and before my own mother had tried to marry me off to a fae prince.
Dying had truly changed my whole perspective on virginity. Also, the game of Wank Count. I’m certain that I knew far more about the Rebels’ fantasies than any witch before me.
When Bask’s soft lips kissed across the cotton of my drawers, licking and sucking at them, I arched my back, clasping my hands to my neck and my choker necklace like that could stop the coiling inside me. I’d never experienced such a sensation, even with Robin. When I pushed closer, riding Bask’s face in rhythmic waves, he gasped; Sleipnir’s eyes were dark, as he watched me.
Sweet Hecate, please, please, please…
My magic prickled and sparked inside me, until it burst out at the same time as the wave of spasmed pleasure that screamed through me. I fell back against Hecate’s Tree in shock, as my heart beat wildly.
The candle blew itself out.
“I think you’ve killed her,” Sleipnir breathed.
“Actually, it could be the opposite.” Fox pushed himself to his feet, before reaching down to pull up Bask and Sleipnir.
My magic pulsed through the roots of the tree, before exploding upwards, lighting the branches that swayed in a dance of their own. Finally, magic sparkled like blossoms in the midst of winter down onto the Rebels in blessing.
Bask let out a delighted laugh, catching sparkles in his palm. “Never underestimate the power of an incubus kiss.”
“Boss,” Flair’s voice was softer than I’d ever heard it, “look by your hand right. Fucking. Now.”
When I forced my hazy brain to focus, I saw a snowdrop had pushed its head through the dead earth for the first time since I’d been burned to death here. I gasped. Then I glanced up and realized that the Rebels were also staring in amazement at the tiny white flowers that’d been brought to life by our love and magic.