Page 41 of The Arcane Taste of the Witchwood Boys (The Witchwood Boys #4)

Brooks

Kate is on the ground, bleeding to death.

This happened to us once before, and we couldn’t save her. All you can do in life is the very best you can do, push as hard as you dare to push. Fight as long as you can. We don’t have the worst timing in the world, but I’m horrified with myself because we’re almost too late.

“I’m here, honey,” I tell her, rolling her onto her back. Kate is searching for me with her hands, her eyes glazed over as her lids droop on the way to passing out. I cut my wrist open and spill my blood over her wounds, coating her body in slick, hot red.

Our Northwoods, the mother of my invention.

I have to keep reinventing the wheel just to keep Kate around, and so here we are. Until now, we didn’t know if Katelynn was alive or dead in these woods. Had no fucking clue. We literally just got here, and this is what I walk into?

Tanner takes his place in the east, an arrow shaft between his teeth. One end has a silver point, the other is strung with finger bones for a successful exorcism. He lifts blue-gray eyes to my face, and then slits his own wrist without even looking at it.

Marlowe kneels in the west, tossing his bow aside. It clatters against the ground as he follows orders without me having to say anything at all, without losing a single second to hesitation. Intuitive. Precise. Giving up the fighting and the animosity has honed the three of us into a fine blade.

Liquid cascades over our North’s throat, knitting the flesh together as we bleed ourselves to the limit of what we can physically take. Our shadows unwind from Kate’s body, and her coven sigil begins to glow with red fire. A silver breeze. A splash of bright blue. Green. Back to red again.

All four of us are glowing, bright as stars, casting horribly harsh light into a forest that likes it dark. Ghosts and spirits and monsters flee. Somewhere in the distance, a gore-bear snarls in fright and trundles in the opposite direction from us.

A recently reunited coven is not something to be fucked with.

I will ruin that bear.

“What are you doing here?” Kate whispers as I shove the brim of my hat up and out of my way with my free hand. She’s staring up at the three of us with tears tracing pinkish rivulets through the blood on her face. Her hat’s tongue snaps out to taste the sweat on my own face, and I can scarcely imagine how horrible my emotions must taste.

Does pissed off have a flavor?

“You know damn well what we’re doing here,” I murmur, my own tears falling on her face. That was an accident. That should not have happened. Feelings are for later. “Saving your ass is a full-time job.”

I lean over Kate, part her sweet lips and… I spit into her mouth.

She’ll forgive me when we all heal up like nothing happened.

Kate reaches for me as I climb on top of her, shoving her pants down with the boys’ help and mounting her in the blood-soaked dirt of a clearing surrounded by the ashes of exorcised ghosts.

I am witch, jury, and executioner.

I fuck my wife into the esoteric earth of the Witchwoods, and I watch as Tanner and Marlowe take turns kissing her. Making her swallow some of them, too. Blood and spit. Nothing new here.

Coming inside of Kate as she clings to me, as she digs her nails into my back and chants my name like a summons… it’s exquisite. I rock our hips together until my body gives in, surrendering myself to Kate in a way I never would otherwise. My only white flag to wave.

I stare down at my wife with a dangerous fervor. Watching that tree burn was the worst thing I have ever experienced. Six months of absolute hell trying to figure out a way back into these woods.

The deepest despair I’ve ever felt. Ever. That flavor I can’t forget. The taste that kills you, shapes you, remakes you. It’s like sin on the tongue.

Only this time, I didn’t suffer alone.

That’s how I got through it, because I had responsibility to Marlowe. To Tanner. To Kate, most of all.

I draw myself out of her tight channel, but I stay close as Tanner mounts her next. Her arms go around his neck, and she’s sobbing. She’s weeping against him. Moaning and weeping.

“I know this is for a spell, but I missed you, too. Fuck, I missed you guys.”

Tanner wraps himself around her entire body, consumes her while I watch the last of Kate’s wounds heal over. See the color returning to her cheeks. Hazel eyes brightening. Tanner’s orgasm is enough to push the magic over the edge and leave a surplus.

It hangs heavy and sticky in the air, all of that power.

When it comes time for Marlowe and Kate to be together, there’s no need to rush.

She’s fully healed, and this display of debauchery is simply because we love each other.

“Fuck me, that was close,” Tanner breathes as he watches them make love in the dirt. My eyes shift up to the cottage, to the planter boxes filled with flowers and fruits and vegetables, visited by fat-bodied moths that sparkle and glitter.

“Way too close,” I agree, returning my attention to Kate’s face. I study every detail of her expression as she orgasms violently in Marlowe’s arms. He has to hold her still to help her through the aftershocks, his own climax ending far before hers does.

Wedding rings are exchanged, putting everyone’s back where they should be: on our goddamn fingers.

“How did you find me?” Kate wonders as Lo pulls out of her and tucks himself back into his leather pants. He helps her sit up and lean back against the trunk of a tree. His hands roam her body. Needy. Frantic. Him and Tanner both, they can’t keep to themselves, and I don’t blame them.

I’m smiling. Despite everything, I am fucking smiling —and I never smile.

“ The coven laid hands on her,” the forest spirits cry as the four of us sit there in those horrible woods, talking freely. No Hag Wytch. No curse.

And a way out.

I learn my lessons, I never make the same mistake twice, and I will do anything for love.

“I’m so fucking angry with you,” Marlowe whispers, but he’s too soft on Kate to follow up with his threats. If anyone’s going to discipline our North and whip this coven into shape, it has to be me.

“You broke my only rule again.” Tanner’s words are gruff, and equally lacking in conviction.

“Please tell me that I’m not dead,” Kate murmurs, peering back at us in wonder. Crying silently. Shaking. Knees tucked together, feet cock-eyed and dressed in boots with rucked leather pants bunched above them. Cum dripping out of her.

“You’re not dead, but you’ll wish you were when I’m done with you.” I lift my chin as I gaze down at her. Can she see how badly I’m trembling? How, here, now, I want to be anything but a leader. I’m just Mr. Poppy, Kate’s husband.

“I deserve a spanking this time for sure,” she agrees, and I lose it. I’m grabbing her and kissing her like it’s our dark wedding all over again. Offering my obscene vows. My double-edged promises. Shadow antlers stretch up into the night sky and touch the silver disc of the moon. “You win, and I’m so fucking grateful that you never stopped trying.”