by Megan Derr
In reply, Grete smiled, slow and a touch wicked. Anticipation thrummed through Adamina, and she put her attention back on her meal, eager to get through the night and wake rested.
When they finally trudged up to their room carrying a plate of sweetrolls that Victoria had urged on them, a large bathing tub awaited them. Steam curled up from the water, fragrant with lavender.
"Merciful Goddess," Grete said with a groan, dumping her pack and shucking out of her outer layers. "That is the finest thing I have seen in an age."
Adamina laughed. "By all means go first. I would love a bath, but I want these sweetrolls more."
Shooting her an amused look, Grete then stripped off the rest of her clothes, leaving them in a pile just outside the door.
It was hard not to steal glances, because Grete was beautiful to the point of distraction. Adamina ducked her head and put her full attention on the sweetrolls, which tasted faintly of orange and cinnamon. How had Victoria managed orange this time of year, and with Edge such a remote village? Cooking was real magic.
"I am starting to think I could never compete with sweetrolls, or food of any sort," Grete drawled.
Adamina snickered and looked up, licking sticky icing from her finger and thumb. "I promise there is no question between these and you, witch."
"That makes good hearing," Grete murmured, and sat up in the tub so that her breasts were visible, the nipples large and only slightly lighter than the rest of her skin. The freckles that dusted her cheeks also covered her shoulders and the tops of her breasts, sprinkled along her arms. Adamina wanted to kiss every single one of them. Grete kept hold of Adamina's gaze for another beat, then broke it to wash her hair and scrub at her skin.
Biting back a moan, Adamina finished the last of the sweetroll she still held, reaching down to press the heel of her hand against her cock, silently ordering it to behave. She did groan when Grete climbed from the bath and walked naked over to the bed where they'd left towels and the worn, faded sleeping gowns Victoria had given them. "You're evil, witch."
"Your turn," Grete murmured, and sat on the edge of the bed to work on her hair.
Adamina licked the last few traces of frosting away, then bent and pulled off her heavy boots. Setting them aside, she stood and removed all her weapons, then her armor. Piece by piece she removed her clothes, leaving everything in a tidy, if rank, pile. Bundling it up, she walked across the room and left them outside with Grete's clothes.
Closing and locking the door, she then strode to the bath and slipped into the still-warm water. "This feels marvelous."
"Looks marvelous too," Grete replied, grinning when Adamina shot her a look. "What? A witch gets bored and lonely in her solitary cabin, what am I to do when a pretty Huntress comes along and asks me to go adventuring? Now we are warm, fed, and this bed is comfortable. A pity you have to leave so soon."
"I'll be back," Adamina replied, and began to scrub at her skin, starting at the top and working her way down, sighing as all the sweat and grime came away, leaving her skin the smooth, black-brown it should be. She was grateful all over again that she had decided to cut her hair as close to the scalp as she could manage without actually shaving it off. It had been done from necessity after a nasty dispute with a bog goblin, but she'd become fond of it—and it was infinitely easier to clean and keep that way.
When she was finally done bathing, Adamina levered herself out of the tub and took the towel that Grete held out—and oofed slightly when she abruptly had a witch twined around her, a mouth on hers, firm and eager.
Adamina was more than happy to comply, exhaustion momentarily banked by food, the bath, and the rush that always came after surviving a dangerous assignment. Abandoning the towel to the floor, she wrapped her arms around Grete's waist and hauled her in close, making a soft, rough noise at the feel of Grete's breasts pressed against her chest.
Fingers raked gently over her scalp, teased across the back of her neck. Adamina lapped at Grete's lips, enjoying the taste of beer and barley that lingered in her mouth, the earthiness beneath that seemed to be all Grete. She fanned her hands over the soft, warm curves of Grete's back, thumbs running along her sides, slid down to tease over her ass.
Grete returned the teasing laps with a firm bite to Adamina's bottom lip, then broke away to kiss her jaw, down her throat, hands moving so she could do some ass-grabbing of her own. "Bed."
"Yes, my lady," Adamina murmured, and drew back to lead her to the bed, laughing when Grete pushed her down on it and straddled her thighs. Shifting to rest against the wall at the head of the bed, Adamina ran her hands up Grete's thighs, enjoying the way the muscles bunched, squeezing her own thighs slightly. Sliding her hands up Grete's ample hips, she squeezed, dug her fingers in slightly, enjoying the simple pleasure of being able to touch, savor, another person. "You're beautiful."
"You are sweet, always giving compliments. I do enjoy women who like complimenting me," Grete replied with a smile, then wrapped her arms around Adamina's neck, drew her in for a hard, wet, moan-inducing kiss, rubbing their bodies together, making Adamina shiver. Drawing back slightly, Adamina loosed one hand. It vanished a moment, then returned, cool and slippery, between their bodies to wrap around Adamina's cock, stroking it teasingly.
Adamina shuddered, gasped. "Long time since someone else has done that." She groaned, head falling back to thunk against the wall. "I'd nearly forgotten how good it felt."
"Well, that's just a shame," Grete replied. "Though I sympathize."
Grinning, Adamina opened her eyes and looked at Grete. "Oh, yeah?" Grabbing her more firmly, Adamina surged forward, pushing Grete down onto the bed, spread her legs wide. She spied the little bottle of lubricant, pleased and amused that Grete had thought to bring such along, and poured a measure into her palm. Grete squirmed beneath her, but made no effort to really get away.
Adamina ran slick fingers lightly down her throat, then teasingly around her nipples, enjoying the way they reacted to her touch, the delicious little shivers and gasps her touch provoked. She bent to chase the touches with her mouth, licking, nipping, and kissing until Grete was gripping the sheets, writhing against them, sweat gleaming on her skin.
Dipping lower, Adamina spread Grete's legs further apart and put her tongue to work, thrusting it deep inside Grete's wet heat, enjoying the smell and taste of her, the way Grete moaned and thrust back into her movements, the way her nails scraped over Adamina's scalp. Best of all was the way she trembled and screamed when she finally came apart, lay panting and boneless as she slowly calmed.
Adamina's cock was so hard it hurt, and she reared back to rest on her heels and admire the view of a pliant, sated Grete while she stroked herself. Grete made a soft noise, levered herself up and pushed Adamina all the way down to sit properly, replaced Adamina's hand with her own, stroking hard, leaning in to give a wet, hungry kiss. Adamina held her close, fed at her mouth, muffled her shout against those sweet, addictive lips as she finally came.
It was her turn to lay dazed on the bed, exhaustion returning twice as strong. She grunted as Grete nudged her over, forced herself to move enough to clean up and hang their robes over the foot of the bed, then snuffed the candle and climbed beneath the warm blankets.
Grete moved closer to her, wrapped loosely around her. Adamina froze, briefly startled, but then it was all too easy to melt into the sleepy embrace. She had forgotten the simple pleasure of sleeping with another, the comfort of it. Listening to the sound of Grete's even breathing, enjoying the smell of them that still filled the room, Adamina slid easily into sleep, smiling faintly.
She was jerked away by the sound of screaming, throwing herself out of bed and lunging for her sword before her mind entirely processed what was happening.
People in the room. They had Grete. Sound of movement behind—
Adamina cried out as something slammed into her head, knocking her to the ground, sending her sword clattering away. She was grabbed, hauled to her feet, hands bound behind he
r with rough rope. Dazed from pain, she could only stumble along as they hauled her out of the room and out into the streets.
An enormous bonfire had been erected in the village circle. Something—someone—was laying on the ground before it. As they drew closer and her head started to clear a bit, Adamina saw it was Victoria.
The people holding her threw her to the ground, heavy hands forcing her to stay on her knees. Next to her, the same was done with Grete. A figure wrapped in shadows stepped in front of them, face further hidden by the flames at their back. Striding up to them, the figure reached out and yanked the necklace from Adamina's neck. Damn.
She snarled in fury as the bastard threw it in the flames, stabbing, slicing pain tearing through her as the necklace was destroyed. Tears flooded her eyes, streamed down her cheeks. "You'll pay for that, you coward."
"Not before you pay for destroying the Sacred Forest," the figure replied, voice low, rough, as though ruined by smoke. "The Sacred Forest requires the life of the Huntress and the witch in order to recover its strength."
Grete stirred and tried to speak, but the shadowed figure backhanded her.
Enough was enough. "Let us go." She grunted when she was backhanded in her turn. "I can break the spell if that's what you want."
"Not good enough. You should have killed the creatures and left."
"You should have brought this to the attention of the crowns long ago," Adamina retorted. "But you didn't because you're not all just poisoned by the rapunzel—you're enthralled. What did you do, sacrifice a person here and there, mostly travelers, to keep those poor, broken, twisted children appeased? Did they finally have enough and start hunting for themselves?"
The figure backhanded her again. "Shut up."
Adamina spat on the ground, bared her teeth in a bloody smile, and chanted, "Rosehaven, hear my distress. Send the Beast of Roses to my aid."
She cried out in pain as she was hauled to her feet, a rough hand wrapped around her neck, nails digging in painfully as she was dragged toward the bonfire. So they were to be burned alive, then, and their ashes scattered to the wood. How archaic.
A long howl cut through the night, making everyone stop. Pity she had not been able to focus the spell well enough to bring him right into their midst. At least it had worked.
The howl was followed by the sound of something running—something large and heavy. It snorted, snuffled, the mists of its hot breath visible in the moment before it stepped into the light of the flames.
The villagers screamed, the ones holding her letting go to draw swords. They gathered into a cluster, which was monumentally stupid if they hoped to use those swords, but what did she care?
The figure prowling toward them seemed to be cat, wolf, and bear all at once, a looming, hulking mass of muscle and fur. It had a long snout, plenty of sharp teeth as it opened its mouth to roar. It stood on two legs, but dropped easily to four, hot, misting breaths pouring from its mouth, eyes gleaming a brilliant leaf green.
Adamina stood up, ignoring the awful cold quickly freezing her naked body. "Leave them to rot, papa. Just take me, Grete, and Victoria home."
"Your father will keep them back while we do that," said a soft, easy voice, and Adamina smiled as her mother slipped out of the shadows, wearing a dark green habit and brown cloak. She strode up to them, cut Adamina free, then Grete, before stooping to help Victoria, groggy and shaky, to her feet. Holding them all close, she whispered the familiar words that always carried their family safely home to Rosehaven, one more part of the powerful magic that ran through her father's bloodline.
Adamina shivered as they stood in the entryway of the manor, biting back an urge to laugh as she stared at the paintings and sconces and mirrors that she had not seen in so long. Dizziness and exhaustion swept over her, and she barely had time to feel the heavy cloak that dropped over her shoulders before she passed out in her father's arms.
*~*~*
Three months. Three months, six days, and if she ever heard the words Edge Village again, she would go mad and find a cave to live in the rest of her life. She'd had it.
And she would not be nearly as bitter about it all if she had not finally finished up with the whole debacle and gone to see Grete… only to find her cabin boarded up and the grass months overgrown. The last time Adamina had seen Grete had been in her own bed, fast asleep from the sleeping draught Adamina's mother had given her, the stitches on her face and her arm lurid against her beautiful skin.
Adamina had never hated anything as much as she hated leaving Grete while she went to summon suitable forces to put Edge and the Broken Forest down once and for all. By the end, most of the villagers had died in the fighting, or been lost forever to the woods the Red Queen herself had ordered burned while she supervised. Those few villagers who remained were recovering elsewhere, though whether or not they would manage it, Adamina did not know.
Nor did she honestly care, not after the bastards had tried to kill her, Grete, and Victoria, whose only crime was being an outsider finally more convenient as a kill than as an innkeeper who unwittingly drew suitable victims. At least she seemed to be slowly recovering in the royal city.
The only thing Adamina wanted was to be home. Well, she wanted to see Grete again, but Adamina could hardly blame her for deciding that what she wanted was to be somewhere else. Hopefully Grete was all right, that was all that really mattered.
Her spirits lifted slightly as she rounded the bend and her family's home came into view: Rosehaven Manor, so named for the profusion of roses that covered most of the estate, right up to and spilling through the iron fence that wrapped around it.
The actual rose garden was even worse, though the unique roses her father grew drew hundreds of visitors every year. Rarely was the house lacking guests.
A chilly, snow-laced wind urged her on, and the gates parted as she reached them, closing again once she was safely inside. Leta, one of the stable servants, came rushing out to meet her. "Welcome home, Lady Mina."
"Thank you," Adamina replied, giving her a quick hug before hastening into the house, where another servant came bustling forward to strip away her snow-caked cloak, scarf, and gloves.
Kneeling, he helped her out of her boots and into warm house shoes. "Your parents are in the yellow drawing room, I cannot say where the others have scattered."
"If they're smart, they're all snuggled warm in bed. Thank you, Cory."
"Milady," he said with a smile, and walked off carrying her things to see it was all dried and put away properly.
Adamina followed the sound of laughter to the yellow drawing room, her parents' favorite room in the house. True to its name, it had warm yellow walls and carpeting, accents of brown, white, and green, and the whole place smelled of old books and honeysuckle. Her father sat at a piano, playing in snatches frequently interrupted to chat with her mother, who rattled on a mile a minute as she discussed work, friends, and whatever latest gossip was running about the city half an hour away where her offices were located. During the busier months, they moved to their townhouse, but in the dead of winter everything fell into a lull and they retired to Rosehaven.
Her mother froze midsentence. "Mina!" Tossing aside the papers she was holding, she bolted across the room and hugged Adamina tightly. "We have been fretting as to where you were. I did not expect matters to take so long! Are you home for a time, now?" She didn't wait for an answer, just hugged her again. "I'll have tea brought at once. Food? Look who I'm asking." She rolled her eyes at herself and departed, never very good at holding still and waiting for people to come to her.
A soft chuckle drew Adamina's attention to her father, large and looming, but still the quietest, gentlest man Adamina had ever known. She knew the stories of the days when he'd had an uncontrollable temper, but she'd never seen it save when his wife or children were threatened. He hugged her tightly. "It's good to see you looking healthy again," he said gruffly. "You and your mother are determined to see who can put me in the grave fi
rst."
Laughing, Adamina leaned up to kiss his cheek. "Now, Papa, we both know the answer is Mama."
"Probably," he said with a sigh. "How are you? It seems as though something still troubles you."
Adamina shook her head. "Nothing, Papa. I'm just exhausted. It's good to be home, and I don't have to go anywhere for six months."
"How did you manage such a long hiatus?" her mother asked as she strode back into the room, thrust a plate of sliced vegetables, cheese, and warm, buttered bread into Adamina's hands. "Eat, eat. Charmian, why in the world have you not poured your daughter a glass of wine?"
"My apologies, Bella," Charmian said with a grin. "I thought she'd want to drink the tea first."
Huffing and shaking her head at herself, Bella kissed Adamina's cheeks and returned to her seat, gathering up the voluminous skirts of her brown and gold dress, settling them comfortably about her after she'd sat. "So will you be here your entire six months' respite? Normally I would give you two weeks before restlessness compelled you to do something else, but I think under the circumstances you may actually stay a bit…"
"Edge Village was exhausting, but I don't think it was that exhausting, Mama," Adamina replied, taking a nearby seat and making quick work of the food. Goddess, she could not wait to start eating Laura's cooking again. Her father employed the best chef in the queendom, Adamina would bet her inheritance on it.
Her parents exchanged a look. Adamina frowned. "She must not know," Charmian said.
"Know what?" Adamina asked, narrowing her eyes at them.
"You tell her, Bella."
Beaming, Bella took a sip of the dark wine at her elbow, then said, "Why, we have acquired a witch. She's taken up residence in the gardener's cottage—" The words cut off as her parents laughed, but Adamina barely heard it, having bolted from the room the moment she realized what they were saying.
Rushing through the house, she slipped out the doors at the back of the conservatory and through the snow-covered garden to the little cottage tucked away in the corner of the estate. Smoke curled from the chimney, and warm, yellow-orange light glowed through the large lattice window that fronted it.