Grant’s expression mirrored the confusion in Ethan’s mind.
Raising his hands to form a square, Ranulf framed the top of a tree. “A video is a moving picture. Imagine a portrait that catches the movements of the people and objects within it. It is very useful technology for keeping track of who is on the property. All those who live here help maintain the secrecy and safety of the family. The townsfolk must not become aware of the Macska legacy.”
Tek-nul-o-gee. Vid-e-o. What strange words in this century.
“Nor the existence of the Order of the Elements.” Amalric motioned for Ethan and Grant to follow him to the corner of the house. The view included several outbuildings, acres of gardens and yards, and mature forest in the distance. “Plants will soon sprout in the tilled areas for the summer, and the greenhouses enable us to grow many of our own vegetables during the cold season. The woods form the north boundary with a secure fence and devices for detecting motion.”
As they walked the perimeter of the mansion to a series of fieldstone paths, the former knights identified the stable and riding areas, plantings dedicated to seasons and earthly elements, and the roped-off section at the east end of the mansion set for the building of a new wing. With every new mating came the need for more living space.
Ranulf propped his hands on his hips and grinned. “We’ve asked to be one of the first to move in. Amalric and I will be fathers in a few months. A boy and a girl. If all goes as planned, we’ll have six children with Lu before the end of her fertility cycles.”
The pride in his voice was unmistakable. Instead of letting the spark of jealousy ignite, Ethan turned to face the woods. “How did you come to know that Lu will bear a son and a daughter?”
“Some of the Macskas possess the skill to know these things. Lu can tell with a single touch if a woman is with child. She’d know whether Orsolya carries your—”
Ethan raised his hand to stop Ranulf’s tempting suggestion. “Until Orshy decides to invite us to become her mates, I prefer ignorance.”
“As do I.” Glancing at Ethan, Grant gave an almost imperceptible nod. “A great many years have passed since I last went for a walk among the trees. Would you care to give us a more thorough tour of the grounds?”
“’Twould be our pleasure.” Setting off across the grassy lawn, Amalric laughed. “Perhaps we can also discuss the matter of our modern women’s idea of independence—the one that makes them rebel against men expecting to tame them.”
Ethan couldn’t have planned a more perfect opportunity to do a bit of preparatory work for his shared task and learn more about the mind workings of liberated witches. He strode after his guide, ready to accomplish both.
* * * *
Tromping among the newly greening trees, Grant breathed in the earthy scent of damp, decaying leaves coating the forest floor. He scanned the fence and the area on both sides as he feigned interest in Amalric’s lesson in the flora. The thick undergrowth next to the high crisscross of wires marking the boundary of the estate thinned after several long strides to the west.
Drawing strength from the ink symbol hidden beneath the hair curling down his neck, he pictured a series of burn scars on the ground to his far right. Three symbols. A single one might be sufficient to raise awareness in the household, but the trio would induce fear and a clear warning as well as mark the spot where the confrontation would take place. The odor of smoldering leaves carried to him on the light breeze.
Ranulf stopped a few steps ahead of Grant, turning his head toward the fence line. “I smell something burning. There! Smoke is coming from near the brush!”
All four men rushed to the gray tendrils, Grant and Ethan’s guides stamping at the ground a couple times before they seemed to notice the black outlines beneath their boots. Both jumped back and frowned.
Peering around Amalric, Ethan narrowed his eyes at the distinct shapes etched into the dirt. “What are those strange signs?”
The color had drained from Ranulf’s face. He pointed to a triangle with one of its sides laying against a vertical line. “A thorn on a stem. I saw this rune once in my childhood. It is Thurisaz—an omen of bad things to come.”
Amalric pulled a slim black box from his pocket. He held it up and tapped the flat side several times before a click sounded and a light flashed. After another quick flash of light, he gestured for everyone to follow him. “Romána will wish to see photographs to properly identify the symbols. We need to return to the mansion and alert the others. Security around the estate has likely been breached.”
Setting off at a jog behind Ranulf and Amalric, Grant resisted the urge to ask what a foto-graf was and to give Ethan a triumphant nod. The knights had taken the bait, and they’d pass on the information to the matriarch, ensuring the last phase of the task was put into motion. The leader of the Macska witches would recognize the warning and keep all those not directly involved in the final act of Grant’s and Ethan’s errand out of harm’s way. Their destiny was at hand.
Grant headed for the courtyard on the east end of the house with the other men, waiting while Amalric knocked on the door leading to what looked to be the main parlor. The panel of glass opened to reveal an older woman Grant didn’t remember seeing in the dining room at breakfast. Her dark eyes held such a wealth of despair that he had to look away.
Amalric gave a slight bow. “Magdolna, is the matriarch available? We must speak to her about a matter of great import.”
She nodded, stepping aside to allow them entrance before hurrying out of the room.
Romána’s brows dipped into a vee as she seemed to watch Magdolna leave. Her mouth straightened into a grim line, and she shifted in her chair. “Sit, gentlemen. I’ll take this opportunity to remind you that witches are indeed a stubborn breed. Now, what brings you to see me?”
Handing her the black rectangle, Amalric sat on the couch closest to her. “We found these markings in the woods near the north fence. They were burned into the ground, with the humus still smoking. Whatever caused them must have happened within minutes of our arrival.”
She studied the flat side, tapping her finger on it as Amalric had done. “I’ll be making an announcement at lunch that no one is to go outside alone, and until we’ve dealt with this threat, any part of the estate beyond the stable and the greenhouses is off-limits. I believe Kazmer is responsible.”
Ranulf pushed up from his seat. “You’re certain?”
“The runes symbolize chaos, evil, and death. Only the ancient shifter would use those signs together. He plans to strike soon.”
He paced to the fireplace and back to the couch. “Sandor and Konrad will want to speak with the Elders of the Order as soon as possible, and Rebeka and her daughter have to be protected.”
“Kazmer?” Willing an expression of horror onto his face, Grant stood. “Orshy is in danger. The impersonator tried to trick her into going with him on the Whydah Galley.”
Ethan rose. “Had we not arrived at our cabin when we did, he would have taken her. We must do something to keep her safe.”
“Sit.” The matriarch’s tone warned of retribution for those who didn’t listen to her command. She waited until everyone returned to their places before speaking again. “I will inform our allies of the Order, and together, our powers will shield us from Kazmer’s attempts to enter our home. His contact with Rebeka was limited to mischief making. Orsolya seems to be his target at the moment, perhaps because she promises to become a skilled witch of the Elements. Her abilities are developing at a rapid measure, and they will soon be at their greatest. Ethan and Grant, nurture her in every way. Encourage, support, and assist her. Allow her to draw strength from you—both physically and emotionally. Your affection will feed the confidence she gains in herself and your relationship with her.”
Grant tried to meet the old woman’s gaze, but her eyes penetrated too deeply into his soul. Her all-seeing wisdom would recognize the guilt and deception hovering just beneath the surface of his innocent faça
de. He nodded as he looked out the glass doors where they’d entered the room. “Will she finally ask us to become mated with her?”
Beside him, Ethan’s knee wiggled back and forth, probably from impatience and concern of discovery. “We’ve assured her we would accept her offer of joining, but she has yet to say that she is willing. I fear she intends to return us to the time from which we came.”
Several moments of silence brought Grant’s attention back to Romána. She adjusted the shawl around her shoulders. “She has known many losses in her lifetime. Without benefit of the Macska tradition, she is unsure of her choice. Only you can prove to her that she has chosen well.”
What should’ve been an easy solution wasn’t. He and Ethan hid a secret from Orshy—one that could destroy their chance at happiness with her if they survived their fated role in destiny. “She is our mate.”
“As you are hers. Be indulgent of her uncertainty. She will recognize the truth when she is ready.” The matriarch’s obvious dismissal frustrated Grant, but he stood to bow in deference to her role of leader.
“Until the noon meal.” He aimed for the hallway, more than ready to find his mate and spend every possible minute with her.
Footsteps sounded behind him. “We need to convince Orshy to join with us before we are required to complete our task.”
Grant shook his head as Ethan walked abreast of him. “I know not how without risking another angry tirade. Romána is correct. Witches are a stubborn lot. If we please her in bed, she may find the prospect of a lifelong mating more palatable.”
“I prefer tasting her sweet cunt to a discussion of our shortcomings. Shall we find the kitchen and request a tray instead of eating lunch with the family? I believe I should enjoy sharing a meal with her in the privacy of our suite.” Raising his nose in the air, Ethan halted. “The kitchen is through that door.”
Chapter 9
Staring down into the garden, Orsolya tried to ignore her growling stomach. For days, a steady diet of sex and hours of practicing every spell she could wrap her mind around had turned her appetite into an unquenchable monster. Sleep and food had become priceless commodities to her body. She needed exercise—to get more exercise than fucking and getting fucked—or she’d find herself rolling down the stairs instead of walking.
A flash of blond hair below sent a tickle to her tummy. Ethan. Beside him, Grant laughed, the wonderful sound carrying through the open sash. She turned away from the window to avoid seeing what flowers they were picking for her today.
Nearly a week had passed since she’d berated her lovers at breakfast for asking Romána’s permission to become mated, and they hadn’t brought up the subject again. They’d taken to showering her with attention. Every new day meant a fresh bouquet from the gardens. They insisted on helping her with a warm, scented bath in the evenings before each nightly round of lovemaking. At least one meal a day they shared with her in the covers of their bed.
If she didn’t escape to the woods soon for a little solitude, she might suffocate. No, not suffocate. Fall completely and hopelessly in love. She shook her head. Too late. As much as she’d tried to maintain some distance, they’d inched their ways into her heart. Now she’d never survive without them. What if they suddenly vanished into the past? Or died?
She pressed her lips together and blinked back stinging tears. Didn’t anyone else worry about those things?
A knock at the door sent her pulse pounding in her chest. “Orsolya, it’s Jolán. May I come in?”
Crossing the sitting area, Orsolya wiped at her eyes and sniffled. She blew out a shaky exhale before she opened the door and pasted a smile on her face. “Hi, Jolán. I’m not late, am I? We’re meeting in the library at ten, right?”
Jolán strode into the room, plopping down in the chair next to the window. “Would you mind if we skip the lesson today? I doubt I can teach you anything you don’t already know or can’t learn on your own. Besides, I’m too depressed to be of any use to you anyway.”
“That’s fine. I’m feeling kind of down myself.” Orsolya walked over to peek out the window again. Her men were nowhere in sight.
“Why would you be glum? You found out you’re as powerful a witch as any in my family, every spell you attempt works like...well, magick, and you have two handsome men showering you with attention.” Pushing up out of the chair, Jolán paced to the bed and back. “I’m stuck in this house with no eligible men even close to my age, and my birthday is three months away. How am I going to hunt for a mate if I can’t leave and no one from outside is allowed in?”
The reality of her friend’s problem put a new perspective on Orsolya’s issues with Grant and Ethan. She could’ve gone her entire life without knowing the velvet touch of a lover, the musky scent of desire, and the sweet words of devotion. If she lost them tomorrow, she’d have memories of her mates. Yes, they were her true mates. She should’ve faced that fact days ago and asked them to join with her. “You’re right, Jolán. I’m very lucky. Great Grandmother told me there are no accidents, so I have to believe that when the time comes, you’ll find someone.”
“Easy to say, but hard to imagine when we’re under house arrest and quarantine.” Dropping into the chair again, Jolán hooked one of her legs over the arm and frowned. “I was so looking forward to seeing a real cock. Giving myself an orgasm is satisfying enough, but I really want to share my body with a man.”
Orsolya reached out to grasp the younger woman’s hand. “It’ll happen when it’s the right time and the right man. Maybe by your birthday, Great Grandmother and the Elders will have vanquished Kazmer, and life will return to normal.”
“Goddess, I hope so. I miss riding in the woods and wandering through the orchard. If I had a sexy guy to keep me busy, I wouldn’t mind being stuck inside so much.”
“Are you sure your birthday isn’t until August? Your hormones seem a little out of control.” Giving Jolán’s fingers a gentle squeeze, Orsolya smiled.
Her instructor giggled. “I guess thinking about my first fertility cycle has made me kind of crazy.”
The sound of the door opening had Orsolya looking toward the entrance to the suite. At the sight of Ethan and Grant, her stomach flip-flopped and her heart stuttered. Her smile widened of its own accord.
“That’s my cue to leave.” Jolán leaned in for a quick hug as she stood. “Thanks for listening to me complain, and I’ll see you at...suppertime? I think you’re going to be occupied for a while.”
The men stepped aside to allow her through the open door and closed it behind her.
“For you, Orshy.” Grant held out a vase full of forsythia stems covered in yellow flowers. “Are they worth the favor of a kiss?”
She crooked her finger at him and nodded. “They’re lovely. Thank you.”
Sauntering across the room, he grinned and set the vase on the coffee table before tugging her to her feet. “You are quite welcome, my sweet witch.”
He lowered his mouth toward hers, his warm breath teasing her chin and sparking a flame between her thighs. He traced the outline of her lips with his tongue before diving inside to stroke hers. Heat roared through her, and she trembled from the desire racing to her hardening nipples and damp pussy. A groan escaped as she struggled to maintain her balance. He eased away far too soon, and she pouted in protest.
“Did you save a kiss for me, love?” Ethan offered her a mixed bouquet of brightly colored blooms.
“Always.” She reached for him as he moved toward her. “I missed you.”
“We were gone but an hour.”
Dragging him closer by his shirt, she stood on her tiptoes to greet him properly. The caress of his tongue across hers sent a gush of wetness to her cunt. His fingertips brushed the side of her breast while she explored every inch of his mouth and worked his buttons free of the holes. Bare skin met her palms. She savored the lightly furred silk over hard muscle for several moments, struggling to take even two minutes to talk to her lovers.
“There’s something...I need to...say.” Backing up a step, she sucked in a shuddering breath. She glanced from Ethan to Grant and let the words rush out before she overthought the situation again. “I love you both, and I want to be mated to you. Will you join with me?”
Relief swept over Ethan. A week of patience had nearly killed him, but it had finally earned him a huge reward. Gathering Orshy in his arms, he held her against him, molding her curves to his body. “You’ve spoken the words we’ve longed to hear, dear Orshy. We will join with you this day.”
Grant pressed himself to her back, his cock most likely nestled in the valley of her ass cheeks. “Our love for you has no measure, my heart. We are honored to become your mates in life, love, and family. Ethan has the right of it. We will join today.”
Leaning her head on Grant’s shoulder, she met Ethan’s gaze, her eyes pleading with him. “Do you promise to never leave me?”
Ethan’s chest tightened. Would the day come that she didn’t need to ask? “We wouldn’t choose to go. Not willingly.”
With a kiss on her neck, Grant closed his eyes. “Only you have the power to make us leave.”
She blinked, sending twin tracks of tears rolling down to her jaw. “I’m sorry for making you wait so long for me.”
Gently wiping away the moisture from her face, Ethan smoothed his thumbs over her delicate skin. “You’re ready now, love. That’s all that matters to us. Shall we make your wish known to the matriarch?”
“I prefer to wait until after we have a private celebration. In bed.” She slid his shirt from his shoulders and down his arms. “Love me. Both of you.”
Grant reached around her to cup her tits, rubbing his thumbs across the puckered nipples poking at the fabric covering them. “My heart and body are yours until the end of time. How would you like to be fucked?”
She arched against his hands and moaned. “I want you to pretend my boobs are a pussy. I’ll push them together and taste you while you slide in and out between them. Ethan’s going to be in my cunt.”
Szereto, Mellanie - Two Pirates to Treasure [Bewitching Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 7