by Renee George
“Goddess, yes!” Romy agreed, her head thrown back, her mouth wide in a grimacing smile. “You both feel so good, so hard inside me.”
Lucien stroked faster, making Sol’s balls tighten on the verge of coming. Romy’s fingers found his mouth and he licked and sucked them until she cried out, screaming her orgasm into the still night. Lucien moaned as he thrust hard, once, then twice, then stopped moving as he climaxed hard and deep.
Their pleasure triggered his own, and Sol finally allowed his hips to move, rocking and bucking until he spent his orgasm, his seed mingling with Lucien’s inside Romy. They all collapsed into a heaped jumble of legs and arms and naked flesh.
After a few moments, Romy was the first to speak. “Nothing like a little harrowing near-death experience to get you all good and horny.”
Something poked Sol in the back, hard and insistent. The last time he’d been poked at the lake, it had been the pixy. Shit! Had he accidentally squished the small creature without knowing?
Quickly, he rolled to his side, taking Romy and Lucien with him. Where his back had been, a sprout grew from the ground. It was green with a black tip—and very strong.
“What the hell?”
Romy peeked over his shoulder. Her eyes widened as she clasped a hand over her mouth to quiet a cry.
“What is it?” Lucien asked.
“It’s an ash,” Romy said, her breath coming near fast enough to hyperventilate.
“An ash. Like the tree-kind ash?”
“Yes.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s mine. I planted it and it grew.”
Sol stared at the sapling in amazement. He’d seen the dead plants month after month as she killed each and every one of them. “How is this possible?”
Romy smacked him. “How do I know? It just is.”
“Does this mean—”
Romy examined her legs and her arms. The brown patches were all gone. Disappeared. “Yes!” She threw her arms around both of them. “I’m not dying. I don’t know how, but I’m healed!”
Lucien stiffened a little, and Sol gave him a questioning look. Why wasn’t the nix as excited as they were?
Lucien shook his head, his dark hair falling over his bright-green eyes, brimming with unshed tears. “This is wonderful.” Behind his words, there was still a sadness.
“What’s wrong?” Sol asked. Romy nodded, pressing her palm against Lucien’s cheek.
“I’m immortal, Romy has regained her immortality, but you, Sol. You’re a lycan.”
“Oh, that.” Sol began to laugh as he finally understood. “Stupid nix. I’m also half-elf. You won’t be getting rid of me that easy.”
The relief was palpable and the three of them collapsed in a fit of laughter and love.
“Fucking large-asses!” a voice piped up. “Think it’s okay to roll around pressing your squishy bits against each other wherever you want! This is a family-friendly zone, you giant jackasses. Get the hell away from my home.”
“Al!” another tiny voice squeaked. “You don’t go yelling at people when you witness a miracle. Now apologize.”
The male pixy, his wings beating fast in agitation, crossed his arms and harrumphed. “Miracle-shmiracle.”
“Lina?” Romy asked. “What miracle? I mean, besides the fact that I finally got something to grow?”
Al buzzed by her head and Sol swatted at him. “What kind of freak show are you, dryad?” the pixy quipped. “Don’t you even know basic biology?”
Lucien directed his attention at Lina. “What’s he talking about?”
“Your woman,” Lina answered. “She’s pregnant.”
Romy’s hands went to her belly. “I’m what?”
Al shook his head. “Stupid dryad. The seedling isn’t for you. It’s for your bairn.” He put his hands on his hips. “Congratulations. It’s a girl.”
Chapter Thirteen
Three Months Later…
The small miracle squirmed in Romy’s arms. Lina, using the butterfly magic Al had bargained for, flew around the baby’s nose, cooing and gooing. The birth had been a nightmare, but when a baby is part dryad, part elf, part lycanthrope and part grim, there are bound to be complications.
It had been an all-nighter at the Fortunate clinic; the town was too small for a hospital. Surprisingly enough, Mathias doubled as the town doctor—something Romy hadn’t known before.
Sol and Lucien had stayed by her side the entire time, rubbing her back and feet, telling her how much they loved her and what a good job she was doing. Once or twice, when pushing the pip out, she yanked their hair so hard they were both at eye level while she screamed. In the end, the most beautiful little girl she’d ever seen was placed in her arms.
Golden skin tone like Sol’s, sable hair like Lucien’s and Romy’s gray-green eyes. Dryads had short pregnancies, and a child born dryad would mature quickly. In a couple of months she’d be haunting the woods, dancing with her tree. The seedling had flourished during Romy’s pregnancy—a good indication that the girl would be strong and healthy. Normal.
“I’m just going to rest for a moment, Lina.” Pulling her daughter to her chest, Romy closed her eyes. Sol and Lucien had gone to grab a quick bite, and Lina promised to get them if Romy needed anything.
A knock interrupted the short nap. Mathias poked his head around the corner, his read beard still gathered up in a surgical hairnet. “I have a visitor, my dear. If you’re up for it.”
Romy smiled. “Sure.”
A tall creature, thin and lithe, walked into the room. He had horns close to a foot long protruding from his forehead. He scratched at his auburn beard, peppered with black and gray, and gazed at Romy as if assessing her. He wore a leather loincloth, barely covering the fact that his junk was huge—grossly so.
“And who are you?” she asked.
Lina buzzed back and forth in front of the baby as if her small body alone could protect mother and child.
The man waved. “I’m your father, girl. The reason for your existence—and for the existence of the child.” He stepped closer to the bed. “I wanted to see my handiwork.”
“Uhm, I think I’m the reason for the child, and you may be my bio-daddy, but you are not my father.”
He leaned forward, gazing at the baby, and his lips formed a thin line. “Hmm.”
“What?” Romy asked, feeling defensive. “There is nothing wrong with her.”
“No,” he agreed. “Nothing at all. She has my eyes.”
“She has my eyes.”
The man smiled. “Yes, she does.”
Romy noticed his eyes finally. They were the same celadon color as hers. Who was this guy? Before she could ask, Lucien and Sol arrived. They both moved to either side of the bed and put their hands on her shoulders.
Lucien twirled her hair. “Having a party, Romy?”
Sol grunted. “Our invite must’ve gotten lost in the mail.”
“You know who this is, right?” Lucien asked.
Sol shook his head.
“It’s Bucca. The source of Puck’s curse.”
“No!” Romy barked. Her father couldn’t be Bucca, because her mother surely hadn’t been stupid enough to mate with a fertility god!
But the horns, the beard, the big fucking package…
“Artemus’ tits. My father is Bucca?”
“Yep.” Lucien nodded. “One and the same.” He paused then glanced sharply at Romy. “Wait. Did you say father?”
Bucca cleared his throat. “It’s true. I am he, and I am her father.”
Sol scrunched his nose and scratched his brow. “I’m confused.”
“In my defense,” the Bucca stated, “I didn’t find out about Romy until three and a half months ago. Soon as I knew she was dying, I took steps to fix the situation. I was drunk when the dryad seduced me, so I don’t have much of a recollection of that night.” He smiled dreamily. “Other than I was good, because, well…I’m Bucca.”
Sol snorted. “Is it bad that I kind of like this guy?�
�
Romy backhanded him. “Yes. Bad.” She turned her attention to Bucca. “What does this mean for me?”
“You get to live happily ever after, as far as I know. I gave Mathias the seedpod, and your Bucca fertility genes did the rest. Your child, as long as she survives, will act as your own tree to keep you alive.” His approving gaze on Sol and Lucien made her extremely uncomfortable. “And your fertility magic is strong, to gather these two fine specimens.”
A creeping awareness threatened her happiness. “Did I spell them? I mean, did I make them fall in love with me because I’m your daughter?” Could she really be such an awful person?
Bucca chuckled. “Don’t let the myths fool you, girl. The seed enhanced your need to breed, but it certainly didn’t make anyone do anything they didn’t want to do.” He scratched his beard. “As my kin, you have the ability to bring a person’s true desire to light, no more, no less. Now that you’ve…procreated…as it were, you should be fine. We’re designed to be fertile, so I’ve instructed Mathias to contact me when you are ready to have your next child. I’ll send him another seedpod.”
Relief rushed any doubt she might have had about Sol or Lucien and their threesome right out of her mind. There hadn’t been a love spell, and she hadn’t made them do anything against their will. They really did love her. She smelled the top of her daughter’s head and smiled until her cheeks hurt. Even in the happiness she’d found with her men over the last three months, she’d had a niggling suspicion that it wasn’t real.
“Kiss me,” she said to them, and they both obliged, first Lucien then Sol. None of them would be alone, not ever again. They would make a home and fill it with lots of children, maybe even a few boys who would be like their fathers. They would be everything to each other.
Bucca cleared his throat. “What name will you give her?”
Romy looked to Sol then Lucien. They both shrugged.
“Lady’s choice,” Lucien said.
Staring down into the face of the gorgeous bundle she’d made with the loves of her life, she remembered Sol’s words on the night they’d created her. Forever then.
“Forever,” she said with certainty. “Forever Winter-Kobald.”
Sol grinned wolfishly. “I love it,” he said. “It’s perfect. Like her.”
“Agreed,” added Lucien, who wore the same proud grin. They joined hands behind her head and kissed above her—it sent a thrill through her every time she saw them touch—then they leaned down and kissed her on either side of her mouth.
“Oh,” Lina cried, her tiny hand flying to her mouth. “That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed—and that’s including Forever’s conception.” She buzzed around the room. “Al! Al!”
The male pixy soared into the room in a panic. “What? What happened?”
“They’ve named the girl Forever. Isn’t that just perfect?”
“Perfect,” he muttered grumpily, but he didn’t fool Romy. She’d seen the little guy’s capacity for love in the way he took care of his wife and the way he watched her fly now, even with a crippled wing, she would never think of him as a pesky pixy again.
She had that same kind of devotion in her partners, and they would always take care of each other as they lived out their lives in the town that definitely lived up to its name.
They were fortunate in Fortunate. Always and forever.
About Renee George
Multi-published, award-winning author Renee George has been a factory worker, an army medic, a nurse, a website designer, a small press editor, an artist, and a teacher, but writing stories about sexy alpha men is the BEST job she's ever had. When she turned thirty, she went back to college and earned her BA in creative writing. She has been married to the love of her life, a wonderful man who supports in every way, for over half her life (and that is a VERY long time!). She happily lives in a small, Midwest town with her husband, two needy dogs and a very independent cat.
Renee welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Also by Renee George
Breathing into Fire
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
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ISBN 9781419991653
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Kiss My Ash Copyright © 2014 Renee George
Cover design by Kelly A. Martin
Cover photography by margo_black, Anetta, Inna Felker, llaszlo
Electronic book publication November 2014
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