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For fuck’s sake! I recognize Nyxion’s hand in this. No coincidence that the Goddess of Crossroads and Magic has paid a visit to my realm. A secret visit since she masked her essence, permitting me to follow Zenya’s alone. She’s certainly not trying to hide now.
The primal look of hunger in her eyes as she fixes her eyes on Zenya is not lost on me. Or how her body is free from any manner of tension.
One flick of my eyes to glance at Zenya. She forges fire right to my core—in more ways than one.
Gods, the mark upon her brow is unmistakable. A surreal but simplistic torchlight tattoo—so much like a wisp but with a black outline and soft purple filling to mirror Zenya’s hair. As if we didn’t have enough problems with our war. Now, Hecate has thrown her hat in the ring. She has placed a claim upon Zenya with such a mark.
For a moment, I observe my little wonder.
Of course, Hecate is practically drooling over the sight of the mortal dancing in nothing but her skin. The firelight gilds her fair skin and seems to outline her tattoos. They pulse upon her skin, timed to the rhythm of her bare feet as she twirls and spins, her pretty breasts jiggling deliciously. The nipples are hard and flushed raw from a recent sucking.
I roll my eyes when noticing the dogs around Hecate—how their eyes gleam upon Zenya, but they are also devoid of tension.Hecate may pass her magic to these extensions of herself, so it’s little surprise she set her hounds upon the girl’s lovely form.
I’m sure my dreamer loved every moment.
With her long lean legs, Zenya is built for backpacking and climbing. She’s a decent dancer but not a graceful one. Little does it matter given the state of her emotions. The freedom she exhibits in her dance—as if she’s wearing her very soul so loosely on her skin, might as well be a wet dream to someone like Hecate. And myself.
Eyeing Hecate, Zenya raises her hands in a tempting curl, thrusts her hips out, and does a sweet little twirl, swinging her hair around in a beguiling circle. Locks flick at her cheeks, but she sweeps them back and blows Hecate a kiss.
The Goddess smirks and conjures a gold tray laden with sweet grapes. A goblet of wine next to her.
A heavy sigh releases from my throat. I recognize the balance at work. Her dark left is for Nyxion. Her bright right is for me.
And Hecate? She is the place where Zenya’s dual natures coalesce. Little wonder the Goddess was drawn to her and Zenya to Hecate.
Ahh, there is our little hellcat.I shake my head with an internal laugh as Zenya grips some low-lying branches and climbs the tree, careless of the bark scraping her exposed skin. She doesn’t stop until she reaches the top, arches her back, and belts out a soprano howl at the moon.
Hecate’s dogs return the howl.
Now, that was far more impressive than dancing around the fire, and the carnal glint in Hecate’s eye confirms.
Once Zenya climbs back down and twirls, presenting her ass with its crow and dove wing tattoos, Hecate’s eyes narrow with hunger.
No more waiting.
Wings curving, I emerge into the clearing, advance right for my little wonder, and seize her by the waist from behind. My shadows storm around her. She stiffens, and the fire ebbs, but I slide my fingers along her collarbone, taking more power in the hyoid bone I’ve fused there. Once I’ve extended my claws around her throat, it doesn’t take long for Zenya to melt against me.
“Morpheus!” she gasps before a whimper escapes.
Firmly gripping her throat, I scrape my teeth along her jaw and purr, “Having a bit of magical fun tonight, aren’t you, my wonder?”
“Oh, don’t worry, Morpheus, I still love your magical touch,” she soothes my frustrated ego needlessly while coiling her hands up and behind my head, clutching at my hair.
“Perhaps I’ll need to punish you for running away, little weaver.” I bring my hand down to strike her pretty pussy, targeting her pierced clit, thrilling in her yelp. Her fingers dig into my hair while her back arches. She presses her wet cunt against my palm. I start to move my wings around her.
“Now, now, Morpheus…” Hecate coos, her voice needling into my spine while her dogs prowl around the three of us. “Zenya may be a glutton for punishment, and as much as I would love to watch your finesse, we have business to discuss.” She rounds my side and drapes her covetous knuckles along my mortal’s arm.
“Iknowyourbusiness,” I growl without releasing what is mine. My shadows possessively spiral around every inch of Zenya. I cup one luscious breast and pinch her pierced nipple, eliciting a delicious moan.
“Well, then…why don’t we mix business with a little punishing pleasure?” She grins and bares her teeth, eyes gleaming upon Zenya before they flick to me.
I arch a brow. She tilts her head and licks her lips. I read between the lines. And smirk.
“I don’t know who is worse. Nyxion or you and Hecate when you team up,” Zenya mutters from where we’ve spread her upon my supper table as our buffet platter.
“If you’re so uncomfortable,”—Hecate says and trails her chopsticks along Zenya’s rib cage tattoo,—“you may always weave yourself an exit door.”
The mortal darts her eyes to each side, glancing at each of us before offering a soft smile and chirping, “I’m fine.”
