“Do you know how hard it is to brew moonshine that doesn’t give you a hangover?”
“No.”
She deflates, and sighs. “Well trust me, it’s really hard.”
Nyx pats her on the back. “Don’t stress, you’re doing amazing, sweetie.” The four of them burst into laughter. Even if I don’t get the joke, her happiness makes my chest tighten.
“Have you guys met Ramsey?” Nyx asks breathlessly, wiping tears from her eyes.
“Babe, pretty sure you’re the only one he hasn’t tried to barbecue, so no, we haven’t met. I’m Brynne,” the brunette points to herself and then the other two blondes, “That’s Tori, and Evie.” When I don’t respond, they all look at me until Nyx stands on her tip toes and tugs at my shirt for me to lean down. When she whispers in my ear, my cock throbs as her warm breath touches my neck.
“This is the part where you say, ‘nice to meet you’.” She lets go of my shirt and our lips almost brush as she rocks back on herheels. When she looks up at me her eyes are wide with the same realization.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, eyes still locked on hers. Brynne snorts and loudly announces someone’s calling them over, then hooks her arms through Tori and Evie’s, and then we’re all alone.
“Remind me to thank her later,” I murmur, and Nyx laughs before grabbing my hand.
“Come on, I think they’re about to light the bonfires.” I let her drag me around the edge of the crowd until we get to the other end of the clearing where the rest of the revelers are gathering. I recognize the Priestess in her white robe, but not the full-blooded Fae man next to her.
“Oh shit!” Nyx whispers. “That’s the Fae from the Council. Corvus.” The dark-haired, yellow-eyed Fae stand tall, unnaturally still as Esmé addresses the crowd.
“Tomorrow, the world will wake beneath the dawn light of the Sun in Taurus. Venus reigns over this new season of life, honoring the cycle of creation and rebirth as divine feminine and masculine surrender to the sacred night and bear fruit in the blessed day. Tonight, the fires of Beltane breach the Veil and light the way for our memories of the past to dance with our dreams of the future, united in the warm embrace of the present. Venus invites us now to celebrate Fate’s greatest act of love—the tethering of our souls to this world, and each other.”
Her words hammer at the dark, forgotten part of me that cracked open last week when Nyx said I wasn’t ruined, driving the wedge deeper until everything I’ve held back risks pouring out. It was easier, before her, to forge my anger, pain, shame—all of it, into a weapon to hurt the world before it could hurt me again. From the corner of my eye, her friend Evie lights both bonfires with her magic, and I look down at Nyx. The reflectionof the flickering flames make her eyes look more red than before her epiphaneia.
And she’s still holding my hand.
When I rub my thumb across her knuckle, she smiles up at me, and the dam breaks.
Wordlessly, I pull her with me as I duck behind a tree at the edge of the clearing. Even cut off from the warmth of the fire, the heat between us grows.
“Where are we going?” she asks breathlessly.
I push her up against the tree and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Do you trust me?” She shivers, and her pupils are blown wide when we lock eyes again.
“I trust you.”
Those three magic words snap the last threads of my restraint, and I crash my lips to hers. I cup her face as her taste explodes on my tongue and she melts into me with a desperate moan that catapults me back to New Years Eve, when she dry humped my cock through my jeans and we came together. I break the kiss and rest my forehead against hers, watching our mixed breath fog as we pant.
“Come with me?” She nods, and I take her hand, leading us through the trees on nothing but instinct. The darkness shifts when my vision distorts and the world explodes with light, illuminating a smaller clearing just up ahead. When we break through the trees, I watch as she’s bathed in moonlight under the glittering stars.
“Holy shit.” She laughs, turning in a circle as I watch. When she comes back to me, I trace the light that pours over her exposed skin until she shivers again.
“Cold?” I ask, and she shakes her head with a wry smile.
She reaches up with one hand and hesitates. “Can I touch you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, unable to conceal the raw desperation. Her fingers brush my lips, tracing the scar that drags my smile down, the ones that travel across the bridge of my nose and cut through my ruined eye, bisecting my brow.
No.
Not ruined.
Her touch is soft but certain as she tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and cups the nape of my neck, pulling me down into another kiss. The urge to touch her everywhere is overwhelming. I run my fingers down her sides, brushing her breasts, palming her ass so I can lift her. She wraps her legs around my waist and then I’m lowering her onto the cool grass. Just like New Years, my hips slot perfectly between her legs like I was meant to be here.
Like I belong here.
Like I’m home.
