Page 9

Chapter 9

Callum paced around his wing, tail snapping behind him. At this rate he’d wear a hole in the floor. Judging by how the hearth crackled and complained, the house thought so as well. “I don’t know what else to do. How do I get him to answer my request? A simple yes or no is all I need!”

“I thought the poetry would be enough.” Finn replied. He was perched on the banister of the grand staircase, offering advice while Callum brainstormed new tactics. Well, less advice and more useless opinions. “Your words were dashing.”

“Rowan was more receptive to the nest than the poems.” Callum pinched the bridge of his nose. “But By Dionisius’s balls, his aunts haven’t left me alone after that day.”

“Well, they are lusty women.” Finn wagged a finger. “Ah, that Rosemary. Small. Quiet. But such a delightful deviant. She’s writing a book on our bewitching charm and magnificent cocks. Well, my magnificent cock, at least.” Finn slid off the banister to his hooves. “If I can successfully woo a witch, so can you. Imitate my methods.”

Callum gave him a flat look. “You dropped a chandelier on her.”

“I dropped it near her, not on her.”

Callum paused his pacing long enough to shoot Finn a glare. “You’re not helping.”

“I know,” Finn replied with a bright smile.

Callum leaned against the settee, a smile tugging his mouth. There was no ignoring how receptive Rowan had been on the porch. The witch had curled up in his arms as if he’d always belonged there. And the scent of arousal oozed from his every pore. “We had a wonderful conversation yesterday. Rowan smiled and cajoled, even complimented my laugh. Goddess’s tits I felt his lust.” The wistful memory faded, and he grunted. “Then it all crumbled.”

“What changed that brought that to an end?’ Finn asked.

Easy. He brought up going out in public. That was a true mood killer. The hope that had twinkled inside the witch was unmistakable. Rowan had wanted nothing more than Callum to attend Krampusnacht. Not just attend, dress like the monster himself. And by the Gods, Callum wanted to give him that. To feel no fear with his head held high. Going would be the ultimate gift of his adoration. But that wasn’t something he could give to Rowan, now or ever. “Long story.”

“Well then lets review how you won Orlaith.” Finn counted on his fingers. “First you nested. Then you wrote poems. Then you fucked.” He hmmed. “Seems you’re working backwards, brother.”

“There was more to our wooing than that,” Callum said.

Finn clapped his hands. “Oh! Now I know what you’re forgetting! Pinecones!”

The urge to throw Finn out the door was growing. “Rowan and I have moved beyond pinecones.”

“But witches love pinecones! They obsess over them like they do jars and bottles. They do little witchy things with them. Its adorable. And it won Ivy over instantly.” Finn nodded sagely. “The secret is the bows on the top.”

“I need more than that to sway Rowan.” Callum grumbled. You know exactly what would sway him. Krampusnacht. He stomped his hoof with a frustrated growl. Another dramatic roar of heat from the fireplace and he jabbed a finger at it. “The floor is fine!” The hearth spat one last spark out of spite, then went quiet.

Finn flung an arm around Callum’s shoulders. “Let me teach you a phrase my Witchling taught me that may help.” He swiped his hand across the air as if visualizing the words before them. “Go big or go home.”

Callum wrinkled his nose. “What in the seven hells is that supposed to mean?”

“Be impressive! Do something that will wow him like…” Finn rubbed his chin before snapping his fingers in triumph. “Like, suck your own cock!”

Callum scowled. “No.”

“You’re right. That requires too much preparation and stretching. What about-?”

“No, Finn.”

“Then-?”

“No.” Callum flopped onto the settee, tapping the scar on his lips.

“All right, fine.” Finn settled beside him. “A different approach. What would Rowan want that he could not deny you for?”

Callum swallowed hard, seeing Rowan’s disappointment in his mind. “He… He wants me to attend Krampusnacht.” Finn grimaced and Callum clutched the back of his head. “Exactly. You know what that coven did to me. You know what I suffer.”

“True,” Finn replied. “But you could go in disguise like I did.”

“And risk getting swarmed like you were?!” Callum’s hands trembled, heart slamming against his ribs.

“Ivy protected me. Perhaps-“

“No!” Callum’s vision tunneled, turning scarlet. Such delicious anguish from such a strong male. Old wounds throbbed to life, burning his flesh as hot as the day they were created. “They’ll touch me. Use me.” He tugged on his horns, ears flattening to his skull to silence the horrible laughter of those witches. “Hurt me!”

“Cal,” Finn murmured. “Brother. You’re lost again.”

“I know!” Callum sobbed. “They’re in my head Finn! They’re in my head and always will be!”

“I’m here, Callum.” Finn murmured.

“This isn’t fair! Its I who should be comforting you! I’m the elder! I’m the one who should protect!”

“You’ve already done your fair share of protecting me.” Finn outstretched his hands, waiting until Callum gave him a sharp nod of confirmation, then pressed them to Callum’s face, guiding his gaze to his. “I’m here brother. Do you have your potions?”

“I don’t want my potions! I don’t want to go to sleep!”

“Then breathe with me.” The air was crisp in Callum’s lungs as his shaky inhale synced with his brother’s. “Good.” Finn said. “Now think of peace. Think of something good.”

I’ll keep you safe. Rowan’s voice cut through the din of his waking nightmare. No one will touch you. I swear upon Hecate herself that I’d keep you safe.

The witch had meant every word. Callum felt the honesty and the cold determination in every syllable. Rowan with his hair like fire and eyes like the summer sky. With contagious laughter and horrible puns. He was smaller than Callum and was kind to a fault. There wasn’t one hint of malice inside him Yet there was no doubt Rowan would fight tooth and nail to protect what was his.

Finn pressed his forehead to his. For the last eighty years, he’d comforted Callum like this. Sitting with him for hours until he fell asleep or calmed. There was no eternity of darkness this time. Only Rowan’s promise. I’ll keep you safe.

“I…I found my peace.” Callum whispered.

“You sure?” Finn asked.

Rowan was solid in his mind. Callum’s vision cleared, throat opening to blessed air as he thought back to the feel of him in his arms. “I am.” He smoothed his sweat soaked hair from his face. Rowan. His kind, gentle Witch-boy.

There was scratching upon the stairs. Maximus came romping down, all squeaks and chitters. He plopped himself in front of Finn, ringtail poofed like a brush as he gestured wildly.

Finn nodded at the raccoon. “I see. Yes. Tell her I’ll be up in a moment to help.” He gave Callum’s arm a squeeze. “My Witchling calls. Are you sure you’ll be all right?”

Callum felt his chest. The jitters were gone, his heart slowing to a reasonable rate. “I am.” He couldn’t keep the awe out of his voice. I’ll keep you safe. By the Goddess, Rowan had kept him safe.

“Rest brother. You’ve been through a lot.” Finn said. “We”ll find some other big gesture for your witch-boy.”

He watched Maximus hop away, Aster’s words popping into his head. You know he was kind of jealous that Ivy got a familiar even though he wouldn’t say it. “A familiar.”

“What?” Finn asked.

Callum’s ears perked, with excitement. “A familiar! That’s it! May the Goddess bless that little sister!”

Finn waved ad Maximus to go on without him. “Cal, are you sure you’re all right?”

“More than all right!” Callum cried. “I have a new wooing gift in mind for Rowan!” The unscarred side of Callum’s mouth curled. “Tonight, Little Brother, we go hunting.”

Finn arched a brow. “We have enough meat to last us all winter.”

“This isn’t for meat. This is for familiars.” His tail flicked with a snap. Yes, he would bring Rowan what he wished, a companion that he could keep by his side where Callum couldn’t follow. Someone to protect him, watch out for him under Callum’s orders. But a tiny raccoon wouldn’t do. No, Rowan deserved something far grander.“Go big or go home.”