Gothic grove, p.22
Gothic Grove, page 22
The finality of the situation hits me. “I love you,” I say. Nipping at my own magic is the spell the coven is casting. “Without Ava, we don’t have a chance, there are too many of them. We are too spent,” I say, feeling sweat bead at my brow.
“Don’t you say that,” Ciaran growls. “We are getting out of this.” He throws out a long arc of golden light, disintegrating a vampire who was charging us. But I feel his body sag with it. His magic is too new for him to continue to use it at this pace. The smell of burning flesh is ingrained in the air from our magic. The screams of those vampires and witches echo through the ballroom. But it’s still not enough.
The doors to the far left open violently in an explosion of flame, pulling everyone's attention to it. A whimper of relief escapes my lips as I see Drago and Shadow emerge through the dense smoke. Both in dark jeans, Drago has his white button-up shirt rolled up on his forearms, while Shadow wears his leather jacket over a black T-shirt. Flames wreath both of his hands. Behind them, as the smoke clears, I can see more dropped bodies. Witches and vampires alike are dead. Drago’s death magic is potent in the air, his own hands blackened by dark veins disappearing under the white shirt.
This is the man people fear, the one who has held the criminal underworld in a vice grip. That even Alexi didn’t dare cross.
The room pauses collectively as the two predators stand against the backdrop of the slaughter. Cordelia glares at the two of them, rage contouring her face into something inhuman. Drago looks bored as he cracks his neck, his eyes never leaving hers.
“This isn’t your fight.” Cordelia hisses. Her voice betrays the fear that is now worming it’s way into her.
Drago raises his eyebrow, “anything that happens in this city is my fight. That has never changed, witch.” He doesn’t spare any of us a glance, as if the room isn’t full of people waiting to kill us all. “Do you really want to try and go against me?”
Shadow, however, sweeps his gaze around the room. I watch as he zeroes in on Ava’s crumpled form. Those whiskey-colored eyes suddenly shift to a glowing gold.
Ciaran mutters a curse a second before Shadow unleashes himself in fire so bright, I have to shield my eyes. When the light dims behind my closed lids, I reopen them and find standing in the remains is a golden dragon. He stretches his massive wings out and shakes his golden-scaled head. Each wing fades from gold to black at the very tips, and his long neck has whirls of black between each scale. His wings brush the ceiling of the ballroom. His claws dig into the ground, causing the foundation to crack under them. He lets out a roar, and the building trembles around us. He’s going to bring the whole building down, if not by his size, then by the power he holds.
“Holy shit,” I breathe out. I watch, transfixed by him as he lets molten fire pour from his mouth. Like lava from a volcano, its destruction on our enemies is catastrophic. His sole focus is on Ava’s crumpled form. We are all but forgotten as the witches move to try and contain him with magic, but Drago is there letting that terrifying power leach life from them. Their bodies fall like husks. Cordelia is screaming in rage, but no one is listening to her now. It’s utter chaos as the two move through the room.
The magic holding Ciaran and I drops, and I feel the connection to my power flood back. All around us, vampires flee the dragon and Drago. My magic unfolds and I allow the snakes to ghost from my body. I watch , with a sick satisfaction, as Onyx squeezes a witch so hard, she bursts, the gore covering his ink-black scales. A manic laugh bursts from my lips as the few who remain alive flee from us. I make a move to go after them, blades raised to cut them all down, but Ciaran grabs me.
“Not now. We need to back away slowly.” I’m confused by his hushed tones. “Call the snakes back to you. Get them on your body,” he whispers as he ever so slowly shifts himself in front of me. And that’s when I notice the all-consuming silence that has descended upon the room. No chanting or screaming. No roars. Just silence. The type of silence that descends before a crash of thunder, the kind that leaves you on a knife's edge.
Glancing up, I feel my eyes widen as I see the dragon is now poised over Ava, his lips pulled back in a beastly growl. I don’t dare move, don’t dare even call the snakes back, despite Ciaran’s request. Instead, I send a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that Shadow doesn’t eat us. Or that Buttercup doesn’t decide she needs to protect Ava.
Drago calmly shifts between us, hands relaxed at his side, so his body provides a barrier between us and Shadow’s dragon. “You’ve protected her. There are no more threats to her. I need you to give him back now so we can take care of our mate,” he says.
The dragon shakes its massive head. “He’ll lock us away again.” Its voice is so loud and deep, it hurts my ears. My head rings with it. Ciaran crowds me back further, edging us towards the open smoldering remains of the doorway.
“I won’t let him keep you away this time.” Drago slowly pushes forward, closer to the beast.
It lets out a deep growl. “We need to claim her.”
Drago nods his head. “I promise, it’ll happen, but not like this. If you don’t show him you are nothing to fear, it'll be harder for me to convince him you shouldn’t be locked up.”
The dragon huffs, smoke billowing from his nostrils. He lowers his massive head toward my friend's prone body, and I stiffen as those teeth near her. Instead of what I fear, I watch in awe as he only nuzzles her before shifting back, and a very naked Shadow drops down unconscious next to Ava.
Silence descends on the room again before I finally look up at Ciaran, “Uh . . . What in the actual fuck was that? No one wanted to tell me we had a motherfucking dragon as a friend?”
Drago took Ava and Shadow both back to his home with the assurance he would let us know when they awoke. Ciaran and I made our way back to the safehouse we had been staying in prior. Not having access to Shadow’s magic meant we had to drive back, which felt oddly normal. After fighting with magic, seeing your friend shift into a dragon, and watching your magical tattoo snake eat people, driving felt weird. Drago was kind enough to give us his car, which I suppose was better than calling a car service.
That was a week ago. Ciaran and I have spent the week in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom or eat. I would like to say we spent it fucking, but we were both so exhausted, we slept for most of it. Even now, my body still feels run-down, despite the rest we’ve gotten. But today, I couldn’t lie in bed any longer, so instead, I got up, showered, and have been pouring over the grimoire again. We never found my family's book, which makes me nervous, given what the Fairmore witch knew. I have a sneaking suspicion they have it. A nervousness moves up my spine as I think about my grimoire being in the hands of someone else, not just because of the magic but because since the battle I’ve felt less and less in control of this power. Less like myself. And that scares me.
“Imagine how disappointed I was to wake and not have my mate by my side,” Ciaran states behind me. I turn to look at him. His gray sweatpants hang low on his hips, and I bite my lip looking at his shirtless chest. Walking over to me, he plants a kiss on my forehead before grabbing himself a cup of coffee. “What are you doing, Astrea?”
I take a sip of my own coffee. “We can’t just rest forever. We have to find Kallen. And what are we supposed to do about the covens? They won't just let us be, Ciaran. They’ll hunt us until they can get this power from us.”
He stretches upward, and I can't help my mouth watering a little at the movement. He smirks as if he knows where my mind is at. “I don’t think we need to worry about Kallen right now. She found something better than her magic.”
Something hot burns through me, an uncontrollable anger rising up, “What's that?” I growl.
He narrows his eyes in concern at the sudden hostility before allowing a smile to move across his face . “Her mate. He lives.”
The rage blinks out, leaving me cold. “Wait, what?!”
He shrugs as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on me. “His soul is still out there. So, yes, her revenge was important, but her mate was more important.”
“How did you figure that out?” I ask, closing the book in front of me, now much more interested in what he has to say.
“My mother. Her shade crossed over—she was the one to help free me. Break whatever hold Kallen had on me. She somehow knew his soul was still here,” he says. “They spoke for a while but I was still held by the magic so I’m unclear as to what was said.”
I blink at him in utter confusion. “I’m sorry, your dead mother popped in to rescue you, as well as tell our mortal enemy that her mate is still alive? AND she let her go find said mate? You realize how absurd that is?” My anger towards Ciaran’s mother grows with each passing moment that she could do something so stupid.
He laughs before moving over to me and wrapping his strong arms around me. I let his scent brush over me, calming me, and throw my arms around his neck. Burrowing my nose into his bare chest.
“Can we talk about the absurdity of this later? I’ve missed my mate.” His voice is low, and it sends shivers down my spine.
A low moan escapes me, my body suddenly heating and arousal pools deep within.Sensing what I need, he lifts me up on the countertop, his eyes going red.
“Let me feast on my mate.” He pulls my leggings off and spreads my legs, his eyes zeroing in on my glistening sex. “Fuck.” He spreads my pussy lips open, leaving me feeling vulnerable. “You are so fucking beautiful.” He slowly pushes a finger inside me, and I bite my lip to suppress a moan before he adds another.
He bends down and swirls his tongue around my clit, and I throw my head back, letting out a long groan of pleasure. “Yes, just like that,” I breathe out, my voice heavy with desire. He continues leisurely licking me and fucking me with his fingers, the pace slow and torturous.
“Fucking hell, Ciaran. Please. I need more,” I beg as I try to arch my hips into him to gain more friction.
“Tsk, tsk. You know who is in charge here, and right now, Astrea, it's not you.” He continues the assault, bringing me to the edge before pulling me back. Sweat drips down my spine and my legs shake. He pulls back and smiles at me. “I think maybe you need some help staying still.” I feel it the moment his magic comes out; it intermingles with my own. The golden beams wrap around my arms, keeping my hands bound, unable to touch him. The warmth of it spreads up my body.
He doesn’t say anything as he slips his own sweats off, his long cock bobbing out freely.
Pulling me down to the floor, he lifts me up, hovering my entrance above his head before slowly lowering me. Inch by inch, his cock penetrates me. The feeling is so overwhelming, I can barely catch my breath. When I’m fully seated, I open my eyes in time to catch him devouring my body with his gaze.
“Ride me, Astrea. Take your pleasure from me. I want you dripping down my cock. And when we are done, you can clean up the mess you’ve made on me.” Those words alone have me coming undone. I whimper as I shift my hips.
“Release me. Please. Let me touch you.” I hold out my bound wrists, encircled by his golden magic.
He grins wickedly. “I don’t think I will. I think you need to find it without your hands.”
I growl at him, and the snakes take their shadow form and move off my body, one snapping those gold bonds with its jaw while the other moves down and wraps around Ciaran’s wrists, dragging them upward. “Mine,” I hiss, leaning down and licking up his neck. He groans at the feeling, his eyes rolling back in his head.
“Do you want my blood, little kamerat?” he asks, his voice husky as I rock my hips back and forth, and I moan out a yes. “So fucking take it.”
It’s all the encouragement that I need, and I bite into him savagely. It’s not delicate or pretty, my dull teeth ripping at his skin. His spicy blood flowing into my mouth feels like a hit of Eufori. I greedily drink him down, desperate for more as he pumps up into me. My release slams into me in a sudden wave, and my knees scrape against the floor as I keep riding him, desperate to keep the feeling going.
Once the feeling starts to fade, I release his neck from my dull teeth, and my snakes release his hands. He grips my hips hard, and I feel him thrust into me over and over until his hot release paints me. I slouch forward as we finish, my body burning all over.
I allow my eyes to travel up to his face, and he gives me a wickedly devious smile. “Clean me up, mate. You’ve made such a mess of my cock.”
My pussy flutters at the words. “With pleasure.” Pulling off him, I move down to his spent cock and take him into my mouth, moaning at the taste of both of us. Once satisfied, I sit back up and smile at him. “I love you, Ciaran.”
“I love you, kamerat.”
“Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” I ask as I curl up on his side.
“It means ‘mate.’”
I look up at him in confusion. “But you’ve always called me that. Even before the spell.”
He smiles and kisses me on the forehead. “It's because I always knew.”
TWENTY-FIVE
Greed for power is a motivator unlike any other. If you ignore those you lust for it, you are ignoring the biggest threat of them all.
– Carmine Family grimoire
Ciaran
We stay wrapped together on the kitchen floor until the sun sets and the room grows dark. The floor is cool against my back, albeit a little hard. Finally stirring, Astrea stands up, stretching out her body. She’s silhouetted against the night sky, the moon casting a glow on her. I bite my lip and hold back from launching myself at her. My cock hardens again at the thought. Looking over her shoulder at me, Astrea smirks, hunger flashing in her eyes.
“We need to talk first. As much as it pains me to deny myself more of your pleasure,” I say as I also move to stand, grabbing my discarded pants to pull them on. I watch Astrea pull her clothes back on and move back to her original spot at the counter. “Have you found anything helpful there yet?” I ask, motioning to the old grimoire. I search for my discarded coffee before realizing it’s most likely freezing. I dump it out and begin a new cup, the intoxicating aroma blending with the scent of our sex and blood.
She shrugs. “Not really. Just that your magic balances mine out, and once bonded, one can’t exist without the other. I get the impression your family made it as a failsafe. On the off chance the power did awaken, the covens wouldn’t be able to do what they did to Kallen.” She chews on her lip for a moment before continuing. “I think balance is important, this magic feels. . . alive under my skin, uncontrollable even. So I think we need to figure out how to bond our magic not only so it can’t be taken but so I can keep control of myself.”
I push towards her, gathering her in my arms for a moment. “You won’t lose yourself like Kallen did.”
“I did though, Ciaran, the things I did when they took you. . .” she trails off. I can’t see her face, but I can feel the tension in her body.
“Astrea. I will never judge you for what you did. There are moments in life where we make choices that would never make in any other time. I know who you are, Astrea. Despite the magic you have, I know you’re a good person. We’ll figure this out.” I pull back and kiss the top of her head before looking in her shimmering green eyes. She offers a tentative smile before pulling back and leaning against the countertop again.
“So, what were the witches doing? If they can’t separate us or kill us, what is the purpose?” I ask.
“I think we have bigger players on the board controlling the pieces than just Cordelia.” Drago’s voice enters the kitchen just before he walks in from the shadows. While Shadow can portal, Drago uses shadows to move from space to space. Another talent that makes him incredibly powerful. I’m suddenly very thankful I didn’t allow us to go for round two. The smirk on his face, however, tells me he can scent what just transpired between us. A feral, unhinged, side of me hates that he can smell her and it takes everything in my power to tamp down the urge to rip him apart.
“Cordelia has tracked you somehow; you’ll need to leave soon,” he says.
He continues talking, despite the smell and the carnage across my neck left by Astrea’s teeth. And ignoring the growl that I unconsciously let out. “She’s rallying her coven. They don’t want to make the same mistake. They aren’t sure if you have Ava or Shadow with you, and they can’t risk running into them again. As I’m sure you can imagine, they don’t particularly want to face a dragon again. Or Ava.”
“What is she?” Astrea asks. Pushing up next to me, grabbing my hand.
Drago shakes his head, a refusal to answer anything.
My mate drops it, a huff of annoyance coming out. “Where are we supposed to go?” Astrea asks, her grip on my hand tight. The only indication that she might be uncomfortable.
“I have plenty of safehouses; you can go between those. They are outside of the city, so hopefully less likely to be found,” he says. “And if you keep moving, it’ll be harder for her to track you. Or whoever is helping her.”
I bristle. “We aren't just going to run.”
He shoots me a look before pushing his hands into his pants pockets. “Have you figured out how your magic helps each other?”
The silence between the two of us is answer enough. “So, you go, figure it out. Find out how to protect yourselves and leave the covens to us for now.”
“I think they have my family grimoire,” Astrea says. “It's the only way I can think of that they would have access to this type of magic. Even Ciaran’s hints at that. The Fairmores weren’t the least powerful, but they certainly didn’t have access to what my family did.”
Drago nods in agreement. “I’ll talk to Ava about that. She has some theories.”
I frown. “What are her theories, exactly?”
