Page 39 of A Single Thread Of Hope

She rolled her hips, making me hiss. I was keeping it together by a single thread. I needed more control, and I cast out my magic until a vine climbed down the rockface and wrapped around her wrists, holding them high above her head.

She gasped, looking up at the vines, then down at me in wonder. How long had it been since anyone had looked at me so reverently? Ensuring the vines tightened until her body was one long line in the moonlight, I smiled like an artist.Beautiful.

I felt my climax press back a little. This was better, because if she gripped me with her hands the way she was gripping me with her core, I was going to spill inside her immediately.

I let my hands flow over her skin, trying to memorize every inch, every curve, every soft place. I wanted to bathe in her delicious body forever. Then she clenched down around me, and I mentally cursed. She smirked, and I could see the challenge in her eyes. She didn’t need her hands to make me come undone. She was going to kill me slowly, though I’d die with a smile on my face. Pressing my fingers tightly on her hips, I took control of the moment, plunging her up and down.

Deep inside her, I felt her mortality. Felt it wrap around my own immortal spark, barely a glimmer against the glow of my God light. I wanted more than anything to give her some of my immortality, to share it with her so she would stay with me and my brothers forever.

But that wasn’t how it worked, and the thought threatened to break my heart and ruin this moment. Shaking away the melancholic idea, I thrust up harder and listened to her whimper my name helplessly. That was better.

I wanted her to scream out her prayers to me as I wrung orgasm after orgasm from her soft, delicious form. I wanted her to chant my name until they could hear it over the sounds of the party. And she performed beautifully.

“Demke!” she screamed as she convulsed around my cock. It was too much for me now. I couldn’t hold back as she milked me like this, no matter how badly I wanted to make her come more times before I found my own climax.

When she came, it was like she stole a piece of my soul. My seed released deep inside her, and I clutched her tightly to my chest. We stayed together like that, panting and twisted around each other.

“Wow,” she breathed. She was good for my ego, because that had been an absolutely rubbish performance. I would only get better as I became less rusty. Or, as Tryp put it, as I blew the dust and cobwebs off my balls.

“Indeed,” I agreed, loosening the vines until we were nose-to-nose and I could feast on her lips. I couldn’t get enough of kissing her. Had it ever felt like this? Not since I was first made a God, with my Goddess, had I ever felt this level of rightness. Of pleasure and happiness. “I think we can do that at least three more times before people realize we are missing,” I said softly into her ear, and she let out a sweet giggle.

She tugged at her vine-bound wrists. “This was showing off a little, don’t you think?”

I grinned, two more vines sneaking out to wrap around each of her ankles. “I haven’t even begun showing you what I’m capable of,” I whispered in her ear.

Turns out, I could make her come four more times before we were interrupted by a peeved-looking Gryphon in the darkness.Whoops.

Chapter 22

NATE

Khonsu’s ward fell at two forty-five p.m. on a Tuesday. Even though there was no physical evidence of the occurrence, the magic felt like a pop around us. Even the babies seemed to sense the change, becoming fussy and disgruntled.

At six-twelve p.m., we had our first guest. A very polite Demigod from the Kalevalans—the Finnish Mythics, though there weren’t many of them left—who arrived without fanfare or escorts. Just a blond guy in a pink polo shirt, with a large, wrapped box in his hands. He looked like he was around twenty-five, with a trendy haircut, and seemed far more mortal than any Mythic I’d ever met.

The Valkyries had looked at him with obvious disdain, though when I’d asked if their Pantheons had beef, apparently I’d been wildly off base. He and Mist had once been in a relationship, and had broken up rather fantastically, so now they all hated his guts in solidarity.

He must’ve had some massive balls, standing there outside the compound, looking pleasant yet unconcerned by the obvious antagonism of the women around him. Milo appeared with thebabies so the guy could pledge his Pantheon’s allegiance. He pledged, handed over the gift, and left.

Unfortunately, he’d been the first of many. Every tiny, nearly forgotten Pantheon turned up on our doorstep. Old Gods who no longer had a cohort—just interminable loneliness—turned up, proof of what could happen if you were out of favor with the Fates, or were on your last turn of the wheel. Most of the Slavic Mythics sent representatives, as there was no love lost between them and the Greeks, and even some of the Eastern Mythics turned up. Cy had a long conversation with a Kitsune from the Shinto Mythics, who came on behalf of her God, Inari.

I was fairly sure I saw a little bit of jealousy on Wren’s face at that. She and Cy were tight, but I didn’t think they’d taken that step yet.

We let none of them even close to the walls of the compound, most of them stopped on the outskirts of town by the Valkyries and the hounds, then escorted to us under heavy guard, if the Valkyries decided that they weren’t a threat. I didn’t know if they’d turned anyone away yet, but I trusted their judgment. If they had doubts, it was better the Valkyries turn them away than I behead them with my ax. Even though a decapitation of prevention was better than a battle of cure.

Or maybe it would be Demke with the threats of beheading. I wasn’t sure what had occurred between him and Wren on the night of the party, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out it involved sex. Now, the ancient God was as territorial and protective as a junkyard dog—no offense to any of the junkyard dogs that currently protected the perimeter of the town. He eyeballed every single person at the gate, like they were one wrong word from being shriveled to dust on the wind.

I was happy for them, mostly. With the budding of their relationship, all the remaining tension in our group had disappeared, and we were one cohesive unit. A family.

The golden hog from the Norse was weaving around my feet, and it had doubled in size. I had a feeling that it wasn’t going to be normal sized. When had mystical mounts ever been pocket sized? There had been no great heroes who conquered their tasks by pulling out their pocket poodle to defeat a chimera. No, they were always above-average-sized great beasts.

Given that in the last month it had gone from fitting in a lunch sack to being able to headbutt my knee, I didn’t think this one was going to be any different. “What do you want, Pig?”

Milo, surprisingly without any of the babies, walked over and laughed. “You should call him by his name, or you’ll piss off the Valkyries. He is one step below a God to them.”

I reached down and scratched the boar’s head, and he made a happy grunting noise. “He likes it, don’t you Pig?” He snuffled at my hand, and I gave him the last half of my sandwich. Then the ungrateful pork chop ran off. Huffing, I turned back to Milo. “The almost-Demigod just conned me out of my sandwich.”

Laughing, he slumped down next to me. “I caught Trig”—that was the raven chick, though he looked like a fully grown raven now—“nesting in the crib beside the babies, and when I went to shoo him out, he bit my fingers. They are far too comfortable here.”

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