Page 13 of A Bloodline Redeemed

And just as River predicted, they all built around me.I didn’t have to match their tone or find a note.They adjusted to me.Moving when I moved.Pausing when I paused.Letting me lead them even though I had no idea what I was doing.

I was surprised when I glanced around the circle and found tears on even the most stoic faces.Aahil sat to my right, and when my gaze landed on him, seeing the raw, shimmering tears in his golden eyes, he took my hand in his and squeezed, clinging to me for dear life, his fiery energy surging through my aura thanks to our bond.I could do this.I could endure this pain.Because I had to.For them.

It wasn’t just Aahil who needed an anchor.We all did.And somewhere deep inside, somehow, I suddenly accepted thatIwas the only one who could do it.I relaxed my magical shields fully, opening myself, dropping all of my defenses, all of my tension, and judgement, and guilt.Letting out a deep breath, I let my magic and my love flow outward, flooding every bond I possessed.

A collective gasp rippled through the circle, as everyone but River was suddenly connected.The love, the deep affection and respect, the solid, unwavering support that echoed back to me, amplified by every bright spark around me, was like a golden tonic that eased all the wounded places inside me.Inside us all.

When the song faded and the drumbeats slowed, I pulled back my magic.But the connection lingered, warm and alive in my aura and beneath my skin.River glanced around the circle, looking at each of us in turn.“There it is,” he said with a soft smile.“Whatever you just did, it was what you all needed.”

He set his drum aside, and picked up the wooden flute.“Sssh,” he soothed.“Don’t talk yet.Just stay in that space.Let it move through you.Let Hasumi’s spirit move through you and release it to the sky.”

He played a soft, haunting, rhythmic song.The woodwind whisper of the flute seemed fitting.As if it could carry energy—or feelings—straight up to whatever higher place might exist.It really did feel like something sacred, a ceremony.Despite the absence of grave words or fancy flower wreaths, or any trappings of societal niceties, it felt like a sacred space, more than any funeral I had ever attended.And eventually, as memories of Hasumi filled my mind, the pain in and around me began to shift, to turn to fondness and joy instead.

We were all lucky to have had the water weaver in our lives.And Hasumi would not have wanted us to linger in sadness any longer than we absolutely had to.They had always wanted us all to be happy and whole.

As the sacred feeling slowly subsided and the “ceremony” part of the evening wound down, we all moved closer together, grouped around the firepit next to the endless crackling magic flames Aahil produced.Ambrose disappeared, then reappeared with a pot of his “herbal” tea.And Aahil momentarily left us only to return with a bottle of what I was pretty sure was averyexpensive Indian whiskey.I didn’t even ask where he’d found it.Some questions were best left unanswered.

Despite the reason for the gathering, the grief of evening morphed into telling sweet or humorous stories about our experiences with Hasumi.As the herbs and liquor flowed, there was more music, and eventually, dancing.Niamh surprised us all by asking River if she could borrow his flute.When he easily agreed, she played a fast, jaunty fae song that had everyone making their most ridiculous attempts at dancing a jig.

When she finished, someone dragged an antique gramophone from the dusty recesses of the mansion into the hallway just inside the door and began playing ancient records.The sound carried out into the courtyard nicely, adding a strange but welcome backdrop to our antics.I watched fondly as Ambrose drew a blushing Dyre into a rather impressive fancy formal dance of some sort.The kind of thing I probably would have been forced to learn, if I had grown up among my stuffy aristocratic witch relatives.Elijah watched them with a wistful expression on his face, and I grinned when Ambrose dragged him into the fun as well, forcing them to execute some sort of weird three-way waltz that had them all laughing.

And sharing a kiss here and there.Which made my heart swell with happiness for them.Apparently, we were all past trying to fight our feelings at this point.Finally.

Aahil offered me his bottle.and I gladly took the last swig, mourning the loss of the excellent liquor.We had managed to consume it in record time, with a little help from the others.I had a low, lingering buzz despite the limited amounts of substances I’d imbibed, which made me think Aahil had added a little something to the alcohol.But I wasn’t complaining.

The jinn set the empty bottle aside and nudged my shoulder.I obligingly wrapped an arm around him, and he did the unspeakable and snuggled up against my side.Then he acted more himself, leaning in to bite the side of my neck.“I’m trying not to be a complete asshole, but is it wrong that I want to violently fuck you right now?”he whispered in my ear.

I was not the only one who was buzzed.Practically immortal all-powerful elemental or not, Aahil had hit that whiskey (and whatever else) hard.And he was brimming with strong emotions.That tended to bring out the urge to lose yourself.

“Ow!”I laughed and teasingly swatted at him.The temptation to take him up on his offer was strong.But he still had some hesitation about sex when he was sober.And I didn’t want him to do something he might freak out about later.“Are you a jinn or a rottweiler?Go bite someone else.I’m moping.”

He huffed, then pressed a kiss to the underside of my jaw.“I love you, witch.”

I tilted my head to look down at him.“I love you too, you tiny terror.Go play.Come see me again when you’re sober and we’ll talk.”

He sighed, long and deep, like I’d just ruined his whole life and crushed all his hopes and dreams.“Fine.”

Dragging himself to his feet, he brushed his silky hair back out of his eyes and sauntered closer to the fire, where Zhong was talking with Niamh.Then the gorgeous jinn took off his shirt, tossed it aside, and started swaying his lean hips, the firelight gleaming on his golden skin and shiny hair, glinting off the piercings in his nipples and belly button.His movements accentuated the fluid, powerful way he moved, reminding me of how he moved in bed, all sensual, sinuous grace.

If he was determined to show me what I was missing, he was succeeding.What a brat.

Zhong’s eyes kept straying to the jinn as he struggled to keep up with his conversation with Niamh, and Aahil grinned, wicked and self-satisfied.I shook my head at his antics.Let Zhong handle him.I was too buzzed to play his games.

River plopped down beside me with a sigh, his eyes on Aahil, just like everyone else at the moment.“He really is something, isn’t he?”

I chuckled darkly.“That’s one way of putting it.”

“You say that,” he commented with a wry, humorous tone.“But the two of you are well-matched.”He waved a big hand, indicating the gathering by the fire.“You all are.It’s… beautiful to witness.”

I shrugged.I privately agreed, but I didn’t want to be an asshole and brag about it to the odd man out.“You seem surprised,” I said instead.“But isn’t polyamory pretty common in shifter clans?”

He nodded as he chuckled at the others, who were acting like a bunch of kids trying to out-dance each other now, making an absolute mockery of Aahil’s lustful display.Although… Elijah had somesurprisinglysensual hip skills himself.

“Yes,” River said in answer to my question.“It’s pretty common with my people.And platonic communal living in general as well.But I’ve never been a part of something like that.I always felt… like an outsider somehow.Even though I love my clan.”He shrugged.“And I’ve never seen a group bonded so completely.Sorightfor each other.I suppose it makes me jealous.”

I turned my head to look at him, a fluttery feeling washing through my stomach.“Jealous?”

He glanced over at me, then huffed a laugh, looking down at his hands, where they rested in his lap.“I didn’t mean to say that out loud.Isn’t that strange?How does the brain decide so quickly which thoughts stay thoughts and which thoughts become words?I read an article once about the neural pathways involved, but it’s been quite some time.I’ve forgotten the specifics.Maybe I should brush up on the—”

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