Page 149 of The Firebrand
“You’re a better cook than I am.”
“You’re right. My chore.”
“And really, you want me to clean the condo?”
Rein shook his head. “We’ll keep the housekeeper.”
“We can split the laundry chores.”
“Deal.”
“I don’t mind getting your slippers. Do you have any?” She looked at his large bare feet. Even they were sexy.
“No. I’ll buy some. What about being at my beck and call?”
“Whenever you’re ready for a good becking, call me.” She trailed her fingers up his thigh. His cock sprang to action as she neared his groin.
“I’m ready.”
“You have such a big becker.”
“Brae, you’ve taken this as far as it will go.”
“No way. I’m just warming up.”
“Me, too.” Rein tugged her flat on the bed, balanced on flexed arms above her, and captured her mouth in a hot, passionate kiss.
Braelyn sighed when he released her lips. “You could persuade me to shut up if you used more tongue.”
Rein grinned, moving down her body, spreading her legs to wedge himself between them. “No problem.”
She rose onto her elbows when her mate angled his head forward to deliver on his promise. She tried to stay quiet, but he had such a talented tongue.
****
“I’mgoing crazy. We have to do something.” Celene stopped with the back and forth, smoothing her blonde shoulder-length hair which was badly in need of conditioner along with a cut.
Jace peeked up from a book. “Do you want to play cards?”
“Not again.” She strode to the door, pounding fists on it. “Hey, dick breath. Let us out for a walk. If I don’t see blue sky, I’ll go stark raving mad. Mad Hatter mad. Lizzy Borden mad. Charles Manson mad.”
With the first volume ofThe Pathin one hand, Jace patted the seat beside her on the couch. “This chapter is interesting in the know-your-enemy kind of way.”
When she joined her friend, Celene stretched out, her head against the armrest, her feet in Jace’s lap. “Read on then. The more we understand the assholes, the better our chances for escape.”
On the day of the ceremony, as I awaited my witches and warlocks, I lit the torches affixed to the calcite-draped walls and sparked a fire from tinder. The acts required no more effort than the flick of my wrist. The Blood Coven arrived, their solemn faces obscured by the hoods of their midnight cloaks, the hems whispering through the dirt with each step they took toward destiny.
Cocooned in the cavernous womb, I drew the scent of damp earth into my nostrils. I listened to the sound of trickling water. I gazed upon my fellow mages, their figures haunting in the flickering light. We thirteen, soon to be legends, would split the world into three realms to save the many. While our shadows darkened jagged walls, bats, insects, and creatures who crawled on their bellies scurried for cover, our power charging the surrounding air.
Surrounded by my peers and with flames dancing at my feet, I opened the rite. “Today, the Blood Coven changes destiny.”
The witch Morgana along with the warlocks Anarai and Masoud circled the blaze, their spell the most taxing. Each drew a dagger, cutting their palms, offering blood to the fire before they clasped hands, joining life to life.
Anarai’s voice thundered through the large chamber of the cave as he extracted power from Morgana and Masoud who joined in his incantation. “Vocans mundi.”
He held firm to his fellow mages, their bodies jerking, becoming trembling masses of bone, muscle, flesh. The cave’s air chilled. Still Anarai chanted. Once he had channeled the energy for their spell, his two coven members collapsed, drained of their magic, but alive. The warlock closed his eyes, his breathing paused, his body unable to contain the extra power he had drawn. Lest he burst, Anarai flung a spell into the fire. It sputtered. Then it leapt, shooting flames to the ceiling and outward toward the cavern’s exit. That was when the ground shook, nearly tumbling the Blood Coven off its feet.
“Did it work?” asked the weakened mage, his fists to his knees, his stomach cramping. Sickened from both taking and expelling immense energy, he raced to a far corner, vomit spewing from his mouth.
