Page 4

Chapter 4

When Callum woke, Rowan was gone. He sat up, still groggy from the potion aftermath, wondering if last night was just a glorious dream. It must have been. Things didn’t wrap up in such a nice, neat bow like that, especially for him. Something under his hand crunched. A folded note was wedged under his palm, laying where Rowan once was. Carefully, he opened it, reading the neat, precise handwriting.

Cal,

Had to run to my Aunts’ place this morning and didn’t want to wake you. I’m glad we’re at a truce. Thanks for the talk last night. And the potion. Hope we can talk again soon.

Rowan.

An elated laugh squeaked from his throat, giddy pitter-patters dancing a little jig inside his chest. It wasn’t a dream. There was a truce. That meant there was a chance. Callum tucked the note away in his pouch as proof, not that anyone beyond him needed that reassurance but he’d take all he could get. He marched up the stairs into the main house. The mission was clear. And there was only one witch in particular that could help him.

After getting chased out of Ivy’s bedroom for—ahem—various reasons, he went to the other onlywitch in particular who could help him. One who wouldn’t be occupied in such a carnal manner.

Callum bounded down the hall, nostrils flaring as he took in the air. The delicate scent of jasmine caught him, and he snapped his fingers. Good, she”s in her room. Two steps and he was in front of Aster’s door, throwing it open. “I need your help!”

Aster screeched in surprise, her sketchbook tumbling from her lap. She scrambled for it, giving him a glare. “Seriously, Cal? After our talk?”

“Oh. Our talk. Yes.” Callum bowed his head, tailed tucked between his legs. Slowly he backed out of her bedroom, closing the door behind him. He held his breath, counted to ten, then knocked.

“Come in,” Aster called.

Once again, he flung the door open repeating, “I need your help!” just in case she missed it the first time. When she nodded in approval, he strode inside.

“See? He can learn,” she murmured to her sketchbook before setting it aside, pages open to a drawing of a shadowy horned figure, his huge wings spread off the page. Callum tightened his mouth, saying nothing. He’d caught her more than once whispering to her drawings, looking hopeful for a reply.

Aster was still clad in her sleep clothes, dark circles under her light blue eyes and her strawberry blonde locks pulled up in a messy top knot. But he couldn’t deny the loveliness beneath her exhaustion. All the Bennett witches were breathtaking in their own way, Rowan being the most fetching of all. “You, okay? You’re practically vibrating.” She gasped, grabbing his arm. “You’re not having a panic attack, are you?”

Callum thumped his chest. “No. I’m vibrating for good.”

Aster wrinkled her nose. “Probably not the connotation you wanted there, Cal.”

“I assure you; it is. Tell me Rowan’s desires and wants. All of them.”

“Me?” Aster cocked her head. “Shouldn’t you be asking Ivy that? She’s his twin.”

“I tried. She threw me out of her bedroom.” He flicked a finger against his ear. “I listened for sex and heard none! How would I know her mouth was full at the time?”

“Oh, my Gods!” She buried her face in her hands, clucking out a chortle.

“It”s not funny,” he grunted.

“Yes, it is.” Aster bit her lips closed, turning red as her shoulders shook with mirth.

The harder Callum glared, the louder her giggles grew. He huffed. “Fine. It was funny when Ivy bit Finn’s shaft but the book she threw at me was not funny at all!” Aster fell back onto her bed, clutching her belly as the hysterics took over. He threw up his arms, beginning to regret his decision on which sister to talk to. “Will you help me or not? This is important!”

She sat up, struggling with her composure. “For the sake of Ivy’s sex life, I’ll help.” She patted the mattress beside her, and Callum obeyed with a sit, tail flipping in nervous jerks. “Okay, can you tell me why you suddenly want this info? Yesterday you didn’t even want to talk to him.”

“We came to a truce last night.”

“So, you had sex?”

“No. Cocks were not out. But an understanding was reached, and we’re fine to be in each other’s presence.”

“Well, it’s a start I guess.” Aster tapped her lower lip. “Okay, so Rowan’s wants and desires…Well, in the looks department you have it made. Rowan loves the big burly types. And the scars are-”

“Hot.” Warmth filled his belly as Rowan’s declaration echoed in his mind. He squared his shoulders, head held higher than before. “Rowan told me last night. I’m hot.”

Another giggle trilled from Aster. “Cal, you’re so cute.”

Well, that deflated him fast. He folded his arms giving Aster an irritated snort. “I’m not cute! I’m carnal, virile, and strapping! In other words, hot!”

“You’re wagging your tail like an eager puppy!” She nodded to it slapping the headboard in a frantic thump-thump-thump.

Callum snatched the renegade appendage, shoving it into his lap. “Then I’m a carnal, virile, strapping puppy!” He frowned, ignoring yet another barrage of laughter. “But this isn’t about what he thinks of me. I’m on a quest to make him understand his worth.”

Aster balled her fists against her cheeks letting loose a high-pitched squeal that made his ears flip back. “You want to make him feel good! Oh sweet Artemis, that is so precious!”

“Indeed. I made him feel good with my shaft once. Words will be next.” Another squeak and Callum clapped his hands, hoping that would sober her from her giddy nonsense. “Now, his desires and wants, please?”

She cleared her throat, sitting up as if at a lesson, counting off each of her brother’s wants on her fingers. “Let’s see, his favorite color is yellow,”

“I know that.”

“He loves good vegetarian food.”

“That I also know.” By accident. Callum had brought him four kills from his hunts before Rowan confessed, he couldn’t stomach the idea of meat.

“He’s also an animal lover. Used to pet sit for everyone when we were kids and was nuts over Aunt Dahlia’s cat, Betty Davis. You know he was kind of jealous that Ivy got a familiar even though he wouldn’t say it.”

“That information could come in handy later. Anything else?

Aster gasped. “Oh! He’s a complete word slut!”

“Word… slut?” Callum’s ears perked. Did those words even go together? If they did, it sounded complicated. “Explain.”

“Shakespeare, poetry, super romantic songs. He totally melts for that. He had a musician boyfriend back when he was in high school who used to write songs for him. And he loved it.” She wrinkled her nose. “Then the guy cheated on him, and the novelty wore off.”

Callum gnashed his fangs, a growl rolling from his throat. The mere thought of some bastard human hurting his witch-boy was intolerable. Perhaps his head would be a good present for him. “Where is this male now?”

“Easy tiger,” Aster replied. “He’s been out of the picture for decades. I doubt Rowan even remembers his name.”

Erased from Rowan’s mind? That was acceptable. Instead of violence, he’d fill Rowan’s thoughts with his sweet deeds as his form of justice. “Then I’ll write him poems. Dozens of them! Hundreds! True ones! Yes, I can work with this.” He clasped Aster’s shoulder. “Thank you, Aster. I owe you a favor.”

Aster smirked. “My favor is knocking from now on.”

“Consider it granted.” He wrapped his knuckles on the headboard as an example. “Fetch me a pen and paper! I must capture these words while they are fresh!”

“…Please?” Aster added.

Callum sighed. “Please fetch me a pen and paper.” Aster gave his knee a pat and went to her desk, leaving her open sketchbook beside him. He picked it up, thumbing through countless drawings of the gargoyle; his eyes bright, body sculpted from darkness, the images so detailed they looked ready to leap to life. Satyrs called his kind the King of Shadows. His heart cracked, feeling her loneliness on those pages.

“Oh, you’re not supposed to see that.” Aster hurried over, grabbing for her book like an eager child. “I should have put it away.”

“I don’t judge such things, little sister.” Callum handed it to her.

She tightened her mouth, running her fingers down the dark charcoal. “I know this looks crazy. But it helps to sketch him. Like if I keep his details fresh on the paper I’m manifesting him, keeping him alive.” She closed her sketches with a sigh. “When I was out there on the mountain with my curse, he would talk to me. Just crack stupid jokes or piss me off or make me laugh… He made me feel human again. Reminded me I wasn”t completely the monster my coven...” She winced. “That coven turned me into.” The twinkle left her eyes as they welled with tears. “Gods, I wish I could see him again, not just a drawing. I wish I knew if he were alive or not.”

Callum’s jaw clenched. He knew how strong hope could be. And how devastating. No, she’s too young, too fresh to be crushed like that. Let her dream a little longer.

“Your King of Shadows isn’t dead. He’s probably hiding somewhere, bemoaning how you bested him.” When she opened her mouth to protest, Callum pressed his wrist against his forehead and moaned, “How?! How could she be stronger than me?! A King of Shadows, bested by a witch?! Hooooow!?”

A ghost of a chuckle haunted her mouth. “I was a twenty-foot-tall monster at the time, not a witch.”

“And I’m sure you would have bested him even more in your true form.”

The laugh finally broke through and she cupped Callum’s cheeks. “Thanks for the pep talk. I need to keep believing he’s okay. If I believe it, and keep sketching, it will be true right?”

There was a knock at her door and Ivy—who didn’t look happy but then not completely unhappy either—entered. A riot of colorful flowers wrapped in bright blue paper rested in her hands. “Is Callum in here?” she asked.

“Yeah.” Aster poked at the flowers. “Are those for me or for him?”

“Me!” Callum rushed over, plucking the bouquet from Ivy’s grip. “Where did you find these in this season? A magical meadow?”

“At the grocery store.” Ivy folded her arms across her ample bosom, face stern. “There. You got your flowers. Now will you learn to knock after this?”

“Only if you learn to make louder noises when sucking my brother’s cock,” he replied.

Ivy sighed.

Aster cackled.

“Aster, I need a mirror.” Callum winced and quickly added. “Please, I need a mirror.” He unwrapped the flowers from their paper prison, cutting the blooms from their long stems with his claws and piling them by color on the bed. “Where is Finn? I must work with him with my words.”

“He’s busy…icing his dong.” Ivy turned pink before slapping her hands on her hips. “What’s this all about?”

“I’m making Rowan feel good.” When Ivy’s eyes widened in horror he snorted. “Don’t worry. No mating, this time.”

“Of course, I’m going to worry!” Ivy replied. “So what? You’re going to seduce him? It”s not like I’m against Rowan getting laid but the last time-”

“I’m going to show him how special he is with deeds and words.” Callum shook his dark mane, weaving blossoms into his braids while Aster, held her mirror. “I vow I will woo him without courtship. It will be good for him.”

“Oh Gods…” Ivy groaned. “Cal, the primary objective is great. But what if Rowan reacts like last time? Are you going to sulk forever? And what about his feelings? Something is up with him, Cal. Something he’s not talking about, and I don’t want it to get worse.”

Callum swallowed. Rowan had been so haunted last night, his nightmares bringing out his ghosts. But wooing could only make it better, right? How would pouring on praise and gifts make things worse? Besides, Rowan said there was a truce, said they should get along. He said that scars are hot… You’re so blind. He said that to placate you.

Callum looked at his reflection. At the long gash that split his eyelid. The puckered flesh that twisted his lip. The countless lines that trailed down his chin, blanketing his chest. Scars are hot… Hot…

Hot…

Fire…

The silver-haired witch’s dagger, glowing hot from the flames…Such delicious anguish from such a strong male. Your power is delicious…

She wanted to take his eye, then his tongue. Wanted to feed them to Finn who was beaten and bound, waiting for his turn. You couldn’t protect your brother. You couldn’t even save your mate. Callum’s throat thickened, his heart clenching. If he couldn’t save them, he could never protect Rowan. You will make things worse.

“Cal?” Ivy asked. “You, okay?”

Weakling. Weak, twisted, and broken. You will never be the warrior you once were. Burden! You make things worse!

“Callum?” Aster called.

A failure to your herd, to your brother, to Orlaith. And someday to Rowan too. Callum bared his fangs, emotion rising like a volcano.

“C-Callum, you’re uh…” Ivy gestured to his eyes as she backed across the room, her voice trembling. “Getting really emotional.”

Callum turned towards the mirror, flashing red eyes staring back. He slapped his hands over his eyes, inhaling a deep breath, then another. The fury ebbed and slowly, he peeled his fingers away. When Ivy slumped in relief, he knew his gaze had returned to normal. “My apologies. I know that bothers you.”

“No. I got you worked up and said something shitty. I’m sorry.” Ivy sat down beside him with a shame filled smile. “Let me make it up to you and finish your braids.” Callum gave a compliant grunt and she thread her fingers through his hair. “Aunt Rosemary taught me this when we were kids. It’s a given to wear flowers in your hair when your aunt is a green witch.”

“Ivy used to braid mine every Ostara,” Aster added.

“Rowan’s too.” Ivy plucked a daisy from the pile.

Callum scoffed. “How in the seven hells did you manage to braid Rowan’s hair?”

“There was a really short period when he decided to grow it out.” She grinned. “Oh yeah. He had a hippy phase. It didn’t last long. He couldn’t stand it when it touched his cheeks. Would flail like he walked into a spider web.”

Imagine the clean shaven and impeccably cut Rowan, with a head of thick fiery locks down his back. The idea seemed so strange and yet so enticing. What would it have been like to wave his fingers through that mane? “Be sure to place the yellow ones in the front,” Callum, said, lost in that daydream. “Yellow is his favorite color.”

“Already on it,” Ivy tied off the last braid, giving his head a little pat. “So, you want to make Rowan feel special, huh?” Callum nodded as she draped her handy work over his shoulders. “Good. He needs to know.”

“Tell me about it,” Aster added. “Rowan the Lighthouse takes care of everyone but himself. A little pampering would do him good.”

“I appreciate the encouragement.” Callum said.

“I’m happy to give it,” Ivy replied. “You’re a good guy, Callum. And I trust you. But a word of advice from his twin. He”s stubborn and skittish as a cat. Relationships scare the hell out of him for some reason. He’s never had one that lasted over a month or two. So just…” She pursed her lips, as if trying to find her words. “Just be gentle and slow.”

“Gentle and slow…” Callum pressed a fist to his heart. “You will never see anyone move with more care around your brother. I will woo him like I make love to him.”

Ivy pressed her hands over her ears. “Oookay too much info there, Cal.”

The sound of tires crunching on snow came from outside followed by the sound of a car door shutting. “He has returned!” Callum rose, realizing his pen and paper had gone ignored. “There’s no time to write a poem. Dammit!”

“Just go with your gut!” Aster patted his shoulder. “Make it sound fancy! Remember! He’s a word slut!”

Ivy blinked at her. “Seriously? You told him that?”

Callum wet his dry lips. Go with his gut. Make it sound fancy. He could do that. Hells, he had written Orlaith a sonnet right on the spot when he’d wooed her. Surely, he could do that same for Rowan… maybe. No! There is no maybe! You can do this! He patted his braids. “The flowers are in place, yes?”

“You look as pretty as a Rose Bowl parade float,” Ivy said.

“I don’t know what that is, but good!” He stepped to the door. “Don’t come downstairs!”

“You know the new rules!” Ivy called after him. “Loincloths on in the living room! And slow and gentle! Slow and gentle!” She groaned. “Gods, why do I have the feeling this is going to be anything but slow and gentle?”

He headed down the stairs, ready for battle. But instead of his bow and dagger, he was armed with words and knowledge. Go with your gut. Make it fancy.

The front door opened and Rowan stepped through the threshold, wiping his wet boots on the mat. Callum leapt across the room, hooves skidding across the hardwood floor before he fell to his knees. The tremendous thud made Rowan jump and he jerked his head up, hand still resting on the doorknob. “Uh, hi Cal,” he said. “You…okay?”

Callum’s pulse quickened, sweat coating his palms. Gods above his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. Dammit, what was he doing? He was supposed to say something, wasn’t he?

“The flowers are nice.” Rowan cocked his head. “Did you lose something, or do you need help getting up?”

What was wrong with him? This hadn’t been so hard with Orlaith all those decades ago. Why was it now? He took a deep breath. Go with your gut. Make it fancy. He cupped his hands to his heart, willing it to slow. Let the words come. Let them flow through you like music. Tell the witch-boy what you think of him! With a sudden gasp, he took Rowan’s hands, pressing his lips to his palms.

Rowan instantly turned bright red, looking over his shoulder then back to Callum. “Okay, this might be a bad time to-”

“An ode to my Witch-boy!” Callum bellowed. “Oh, my beautiful male! My Rowan! Eyes like sapphires and hair as bright as the fire that burns in my loins!”

“Your what?” Rowan squeaked.

“How they burn for you!” Callum pressed Rowan’s hands to his heart “Feel me burn! Burning with lust! The need for your flesh is strong! To smell you! To taste you! To suckle you and drink your sweet nectar!”

Rowan’s mouth hung open. “...My what?”

It was coming much easier now, each word flowing like water. “Honey and cream! Sweet and rich! Oh, to feel you spend upon me! Such a dream within a dream to feel your heat dribbling down my hard flesh!”

“Oh Gods. This is really graphic.” Rowan looked around then back to him, still wearing that beautiful shade of red. “What are you doing?”

“Wooing you with words,” Callum replied. “I was told you’re a word slut.”

“Word…?” Rowan light brows lowered, and he released an exasperated grunt before screaming, “Aster! Gods dammit!”

“I have pictured the day I will possess your body! Naked and writhing, our cocks like two entwined snakes on a tree!” Rowan shut his eyes, clearly overwhelmed by Callum’s talent for words. Sure, it might not have been gentle and slow, but it seemed to get results. “Moaning snakes bewitched with lust!” He leapt up, taking Rowan by the waist and pulling him close. “Touch my lust snake, my Witch-boy. Let us tangle together.”

Rowan cleared his throat. “Cal…” Callum held his breath as he leaned in, whispering, “My aunts are right behind me.”

“Your…aunts?” Callum leaned to the side, spotting two women on the porch.

Dahlia was tall and dark as a tower, dressed in a heavy black fur coat with a hat to match. The other was Rosemary, small and plump in a rumpled puffy jacket of bright green. Both wore enormous smiles which contrasted with Rowan’s deep frown.

“Oh Lia!” Rosemary cooed. “We’re witnessing a true satyr mating ritual!”

“Indeed!” Dahlia clutched Rosemary’s shoulders, giving her a tiny shake of glee. The two women rushed inside; hands clasped with eagerness.

“What are they doing here?” Callum asked.

“They came for dinner tonight,” Rowan groaned. “Closed the shop early for family time.”

At one time Callum would have been terrified of the two women but after months of them forcing themselves into his personal space, he had grown accustomed to their slightly unnerving presence. Yet he still couldn’t help but take a step back. “Perhaps I will continue later, Witch-boy.”

“Nonsense!” Dahlia stepped in front of Rowan before he spoke. She twirled a regal hand at Callum. “Don’t stop because of us, Callum. Please continue.”

“Beautiful poetry!” Rosemary sighed. “I especially like the snake part. Don’t you, Rowan, dear?”

When she patted Rowan’s arm, his mouth turned up into a smile. A somewhat pained smile but a smile all the same. “It’s… vivid.”

Callum’s pride swelled. Fuck slow and gentle. Bombastic and riotous was getting results. Dahlia took Rosemary’s arm and ushered her towards the couch. “We’ll sit and observe. You won’t even know we’re here.”

Callum pressed Rowan’s palm to his lips. By the Goddess, he was trembling at his words! Aster was right. Rowan was indeed a word slut. “Prepare yourself, Witch-boy. There is much more to come.