And hopefully, with that power, she could drive out the curse. To make that happen though, the ritual had to invoke open connection among the group. All barriers to sharing energy had to be stripped between them.
She slipped her hand into Nathaniel’s and allowed him to lead her into the center of the circle. He turned her around until her back was pressed against his chest. All at once, the entire coven untied their belts and dropped their robes. She dropped her own, feeling the warm night breeze caress her skin. Behind her, the brush of silk told her Nathaniel had dropped his as well. She didn’t turn around, but the thought of him naked and close behind her made her heart beat faster.
Nudity was nothing compared to the intimacy they were about to share. The six witches and six wizards around her were about to act out a fairy gathering. Fairies, as a species, often shared magic with the most powerful faun among them, the puck. Just like Puck, immortalized in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, the character Nathaniel played in the ritual was mischievous, shrewd, and would call upon the enchantment of the forest around them to feed the order with its wild energy.
Nathaniel’s amethyst ring glowed to life as he passed his hand over the earth beside them. The violets and moss rippled and the dirt turned itself over. Two stag horns rose from the ground, attached to a golden crown that followed them to the surface.
Nathaniel dusted off the excess dirt, raised the crown to the cheers of the order, and placed it ceremoniously on his head. “I am that merry wanderer of the night. Awake. Let us dance our ringlets to the whistling wind.”
The ground beneath Clarissa’s feet began to vibrate. The members of the order joined hands and slowly began to circle. The air around her grew warm and thick with magic, the night folding in on them like a velvet blanket. Her breath hitched as Nathaniel’s large hands landed on her hips and lifted her onto his feet, her naked flesh pressed against his. His arms stretched along hers.
“Follow along with me,” he whispered.
The heat of his breath against the shell of her ear sent a stroke of anticipation through her. His body was warm and hard behind her. She wanted him. She wanted him inside her, and they hadn’t even begun. Oh God, she was doomed.
Nathaniel began to move and she moved with him, the dance telling a story although no further words were spoken. The rambunctious puck motioned to the sprites in his employ. They were playing a trick on the night, swapping identities with each other to hide from the gods and goddesses of the woods. As the twelve circled, Clarissa bent, crept, and reached toward them, Nathaniel’s limbs working as one along with hers.
The circle rose. Raising a circle had to be experienced to be truly understood. It felt as if gravity ceased to exist. Her feet lifted from the earth. She was light as a feather on the wind. She still danced, moved, stomped, but everything was easy, vibrant, weightless. Magic rushed into her like a warm breeze. It tossed her hair. The tingle of energy flowed through Nathaniel’s skin and into hers, and God, the feel of it awakened her. Her body grew warm and wet and ached with need. The teasing touch that brushed her backside caused her blood to burn. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples hard.
All the desire, all the sexual energy building within her, she threw it into the dance. She knew when the order felt it because the couples turned their heads to look at each other with giggling lips and eyes flashing with lust. And then, like a withdrawing wave, it came back into her. She’d never played this role before. The sexual need that returned to her was what she’d put out times twelve. It settled like a heavy weight between her legs. Oh God.
She could see it all in her head, every step, every move that Nathaniel made. They were one in this dance. A drum began to beat. Magical creatures in the woods, the earth, inside her head, or perhaps the air itself, bore witness to their ritual. Summer lightning rumbled across the sky. Their dance was suddenly accompanied by a symphony of flashing light and whirring insects.
More magic unraveled from Nathaniel and poured out to the edge of the circle, only to be thwarted by the dancers and forced back to the center. There was a rhythm to it. Wave, contraction. Wave, contraction. Each one stronger than the last until her skin vibrated with mystical energy. She could feel it in her bones.
In the blink of an eye, daggers appeared in each of the hands of the twelve and a chalice arose from the earth in front of them in the same way the crown had. Nathaniel guided her hands down to lift it, his own supporting the cup under hers. One by one, the witches and wizards sliced their skin and dribbled blood into the cup. Her blood was next. Nathaniel helped her, using the sharp tip of his talon. Nathaniel’s blood splashed in last. When all was inside the belly of the cup, the blood turned into wine, swirling red and smelling of ripe red currants and raspberries. She inhaled the heady scent. Wrapped in a cocoon of magic, she took the first sip.
Stars above, the rush was like riding lightning across the sky. She passed it to Nathaniel, noticing every perfect line of his face, the chiseled, corded muscles of his arms, the scent of dragon in her nose. It was overwhelming. She longed to meld with him, touch every inch of him, taste him.
As the others drank, the last barrier between them was shattered. The first had been their clothing, the second had been the divide between them and the natural world, and this third one was the boundary between their minds. All the thoughts and feelings happening in the circle crashed into her with the next wave of magic. The ritual was complete.
They’d done this expecting to expose that one among them was capable of cursing her. But no hate flowed in her direction. Although there was a short lick of sadness, confusion about her leaving, anger, and then of missing her, those feelings resolved quickly. What remained was an overwhelming feeling of love, belonging, acceptance. It crashed into her and lifted her feet a quarter inch off the violets.
The connections between the other couples tickled her. They broke from the circle, pairing off and running into the trees, giggling and joining together in the shelter of darkness. Metaphysically connected now, as the first couples began to make love, their passion flooded her in the same rhythm. Wave, contraction. Wave, contraction.
She whirled to face Nathaniel. There was so much power between them her hair floated from her shoulders as if she were underwater. Darkness rubbed like velvet against her skin. Nathaniel’s normally gray eyes glowed bright, fluorescent amethyst in the night. He truly looked like a puck—his face had become more supernatural than human. She wanted him desperately.
She reached for him but he caught her wrists.
“I feel no hate for you in this circle,” he said.
“No.” For the love of everything holy, how could he remember their quest to find the one who had cursed her among the coven? All she could think about was him. “No. It’s not them,” she said. “I would have felt it.”
He glanced away and shook his head. “Are you able to use your power?”
She sang a few notes and they danced on the air around her. “I think so. But it’s weak. It doesn’t feel the same yet.”
His glowing gaze raked over her. “Give it time.”
She stepped closer, her skin alive with the prickle of anticipation, the bubbling moans of lovers floating around them in the darkness. The drums beat. Fireflies called to each other in the darkness. Heat bloomed low within her—desperate, carnal need.
“I’m sorry we didn’t find who did this to you,” Nathaniel said.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He was holding back. Guarding something carefully behind a mental wall. Whoa. The strength it would take to resist this was incredible. But what was he guarding? She desperately wanted to know.
“I’m not,” Clarissa said. “I’m not sorry we did this at all.”
Using all her strength, she drew Nathaniel to her and kissed him. His lips were warm and soft. His hand rose and grabbed her upper arms like he might push her away, but he only pulled her tighter to him. At his coaxing, she opened for him and his tongue thrust and stroked against hers.
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The last of his resolve crumbled, and the feeling that rushed out from behind his mental walls sent a shiver through her. He was not indifferent. He wanted her. Wanted her more than anything else in his life. The sheer strength of the wanting was almost frightening in its complexity. But there was more.
Wrapped inside the lust was his desire to protect her, then his need to cure her of her curse, and under it all warmth that could only be love. She had to guess the feeling was love. She’d never known love from anyone else but Nathaniel and had nothing to compare it to. But what struck her then was the absolute power of the emotion. It had grown stronger with her absence, despite his outward desire to push her away. Despite his lie that he was indifferent.
His mouth did wicked things against hers. The kiss had grown rough, claiming, its rhythm a pulse she could feel between her legs. Stars above, she never wanted to stop. His fingers dug in her hair, and she slid her palms around his rib cage, scraping her nails gently up his back to the base of his wings. He unraveled them for her, their flesh brushing the tips of her fingers.
She stroked along the webbing, and any emotions she’d felt before were replaced with a feral, predatory lust. Lust that left her like she was a fish out of water, gasping for the sea. The sheer need crashed into her, overwhelmed her. That was the thing about this ritual. When you took the barriers down, you had to be ready for the deluge that came through. She’d thought she was ready, but by God, the feelings coming off Nathaniel shook her to her core. She’d never before felt that level of need. He wanted to mark her. He wanted to make her his.
His trill rumbled in his chest.
His arms wrapped around her, his body large enough, hot enough for it to feel like he completely enveloped her. His erection pressed hard and hot against her lower belly. Their mouths melded in a wild and fierce dance that was all too familiar. Easy. Her hands stroked along his lower back and clawed his ass. Ten years hadn’t been anything, had it?
All she’d have to do is wrap her legs around him, allow him to lift her a few inches, and he’d be inside her. The memory of the pleasure he could produce in her body almost made her cry from need. But it was that steady protective warmth woven through the lust that almost broke her.
It was love. It had to be love.
Without a doubt, if she allowed herself to return that love, if she expressed her true feelings physically with him now, she’d destroy both of them. She’d only ever been good at one thing—singing. Together, they were a disaster. Either he’d need to give up his life to indulge this fire between them, or she’d need to give up hers. What type of love destroyed you? Theirs was a fire consuming itself. What would happen if it burned itself out?
Chapter Seventeen
Mountain help him, Nathaniel had not expected the ritual to show him this. Clarissa loved him still. The emotion beat against his senses like a shower of hot rose petals. But there was something else braided with that affectionate feeling. He sensed fear, longing, anxiety. Was she afraid he’d reject her?
He tried to pour everything he could into the kiss, his mouth, his body, showing her what he couldn’t say in words. He shouldn’t need to say it. With the ritual in full motion, she could easily read him if she tried.
A flood of apprehension hit him like a bucket of ice water, and she broke from his embrace and backed away. Her tears glistened in the moonlight.
“Clarissa…” Her name was warm honey on his lips.
She turned and ran for the house, her skin flashing silver in the moonlight. Watching her run, feeling her unresolved lust in his veins, ignited his inner dragon’s fire. A growl percolated up his throat. A smile spread his lips. He could play this game, predator and prey. He gave chase.
Nathaniel blinked and the landscape turned hazy purple. She was a sprite and he was the puck, the crown of horns still heavy on his head. Her scent tingled like heaven in his nose, and the lure of her flesh made his breath come in pants. Dragons were exceptionally fast. He could have her if he wanted to, but he was enjoying the chase. He waited until she was near the pool, almost to the door.
He passed her and stopped abruptly. She ran right into him. Right into his arms.
“Nate. We can’t,” she said, her hands forming to his ribs in a way that brought out his mating trill. She closed her eyes at the sound. “God, I want to. You must know I want to.”
“Good.” He pulled her closer and placed a kiss on the pulse of her neck.
“It will only hurt worse when I have to leave.”
He stopped, his lips hovering over her skin. Nothing had changed. She loved him. He could feel she loved him. But she still planned to leave. As soon as he fixed her magic, she’d go again. That could be tomorrow if the power of the order flushed the curse from her blood. Or it could be weeks from now. But she was leaving. She loved him, but she was leaving.
He drew back and looked her in the eye. “Why? You can’t lie to me now, Clarissa. I can feel what you’re feeling. You love me. I know it as well as I know the sun will come up over that horizon in a matter of hours.”
Her shoulders sagged and the tears he’d seen in her eyes flowed faster. “Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you. You’re the only family I’ve ever had!”
“Then why? Why won’t you be mine?”
“My career isn’t here, Nathaniel.” She spread her hands as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I tour constantly and when I’m not traveling, I’m in a studio in LA or filming videos. Your life is here. Our lifestyles are incompatible.” She turned from him and hurried toward the door.
“Incompatible? We aren’t electronic devices, Clarissa. We can make choices.” Anguish crushed his chest. This couldn’t be happening.
She looked at him over her shoulder, wiping under her eyes. “I already have. Singing is the only thing I’ve ever been good at. It’s been the only constant in my life since I was five. All those years in foster care. All those years hopping from family to family. All I had was my voice. I need my career. I need it to feel safe and stable, and I need my audience to feel wanted. Is that enough honesty for you?”
He stepped in closer until there was only a breath between them. He desperately wanted to touch her, but he didn’t. When he spoke, his voice was low and menacingly soft. “Your voice wasn’t a constant. It did fail you. Your audience and, I suspect, your manager are turning on you because they only love what you give them. They don’t even really know you. When you lost everything, you came to me. Do you know why, Clarissa?” He paused and noticed she was shivering and it wasn’t from the cold. He was a fucking bastard. A selfish fucking bastard who wanted her and he couldn’t stop himself. “You called me because I do know you. I knew you before you were a brand or a star. I knew you when you were a struggling street musician who was so poor you didn’t have a bank account. I loved you then and I love you now.”
She took his face in her trembling hands, and it felt like his heart was in a blender. “If love was enough, we’d have it all, baby.” She kissed him firmly, turned, and disappeared inside the house.
Nathaniel moved to follow her but encountered resistance as he tried to enter the door. All at once, he remembered the ritual. The puck belonged to the wild and could not go inside. He removed the crown of horns from his head and raced back to the circle, placing it at the center and watching the ground swallow it along with the chalice. By the time he’d returned to the house, she was locked inside her room.
“Bloody hell.” He strode down the hall to his own chambers and reached for his pipe. The ache in his chest festered like a burning sore. He packed the pipe with Warwick’s numbing tobacco and fired it up.
Still, it was hours before sleep carried him away.
Chapter Eighteen
Clarissa couldn’t sleep. Everything Nathaniel had said to her seemed to rattle around her brain, demanding her attention. He loved her. He still loved her. The moon shone through her window. She stared through the glass. In the distance, Jane and Aiden staggere
d from the woods, leaning against each other, laughing and kissing. She lowered her gaze. Her presence here was torture for both her and Nathaniel. What she needed was to drive out this curse so she could go back to the way things were.
She took a breath and sang.
Your night, it crawls to meet
the darkness inside me.
Don’t you know
that your energy
is the thing making me me?
She was on pitch and the sound was good. Good but not great. Despite having the order’s power still pinging around inside her, her own power had not come back. Her voice was her magical instrument. Without it, she had no way to wield what Nathaniel had given her.
With a sigh, she pulled on an oversized T-shirt and climbed between the sheets. Her body still hummed from the ritual. The feel of the cotton against her skin teased her and sent a throb of need from the tips of her breasts to her core. The deep ache she felt for Nathaniel was so intense she considered taking care of things herself. She smoothed her hand down her stomach to between her legs. But if past experience was to be trusted, pleasuring herself would only make her want him more, like an appetizer before the main event.
She rolled over onto her stomach and tried to think of nonsexual things. Bunnies. No. Rabbits fucked, well, like rabbits. Ice cream. A vivid image of the frozen delight melting down her torso to where Nathaniel lapped it off her belly filled her mind. She grabbed a pillow and pressed it over the back of her head.
Why couldn’t she just have had sex with him? People had casual sex every day. It didn’t have to mean anything. It wasn’t a proposal of marriage.
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