Page 19 of Trickery

“You forbade him.” Midea practically spat the word. “You might as well have challenged him to do so.” She stormed across the room and glared at the offenders. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” She bellowed at them both but her finger pointed at Damien. “She was special.”

Damien rolled over, trying to cover some of Willow’s nakedness with his body. “She is special.”

Midea snorted. “You know what I mean. She was supposed to come to the Circle untainted. Pure. Untouched by a warlock. She was supposed to conceive.”

Willow untangled herself from Damien and stood, naked and proud. And why not? Her body was flawless. Skylar tried, very hard, not to roll her eyes…because Damien tracked her every move. Possessively. Possessed.

Willow bent down and picked up her blouse and slipped it on. She gave a little shrug. “I can still conceive in the Circle.”

Damien leapt out of bed and loomed over Willow, glaring at her. Skylar couldn’t help but notice the breadth of his…magic. Oh my. No wonder the girl was tempted.

“The hell you will!” he roared.

“What?”

“The hell you’ll conceive in the Circle.”

“For Gaia’s sake, Damien. You know the rules.” The two faced off. The magic dancing around them spit and hissed.

It was really quite a show.

But then after a moment, Damien’s conviction crumbled, his irate magic fizzled, his face fell. “You’d really do that? You’d fuck another warlock?”

Willow opened her mouth. Then closed it. She looked away, ostensibly searching for her jeans. She found Damien’s instead and tossed them to him. He put them on, hopping on one foot and then the other, his eyes fixed on her. As his rather impressive tool slipped into denim seclusion, Skylar sighed.

Ah well. It’d been fun while it lasted.

“Really, Willow? After what we shared? You’d fuck another warlock?”

Hands on her hips, Willow faced him, taking in all his fury and tossing it right back at him. Skylar watched as her child stood up to one of the most powerful warlocks alive—and spanked him. Pride swelled in her breast.

“If I had to do it… If the Congregation needed it… Yes.”

“Shit, Willow.” Damien DeWinter, the heartless heartthrob, playboy of the Brethren, raked his fingers through his hair, looking suspiciously like a whipped pup.

Skylar fixated on the sight. After all the heartache that boy had put them through, after all the novices he’d seduced, after all the retraining and scrubbings and forlorn tears their coven had had to endure, it was rather gratifying to see him at a loss for words.

Where that ping of sympathy for him came from, she did not want to explore.

“It’s not like she has a choice, Damien,” she said. “This is her destiny. She’s our hope. Our survival for the future.”

Midea nodded. “You have to understand, boy. Some things are greater than a simple passion.”

“It’s not a simple passion.” Judging from the look on his face, he probably believed it.

Which made him dangerous.

Really dangerous.

Midea cleared her grizzled throat. “We must go now. Take her back to the coven.” She shot a glare at the boy. “Where she’ll be safe.”

“Willow. Please. Don’t go.”

“Ah, Damien…”

Skylar watched with dismay as Willow rushed across the room and back into the boy’s arms. They kissed passionately.

Crap. She’d hoped this wouldn’t have to get bloody, but if need be, Midea would incapacitate the boy to reclaim her novice.