39. Chapter 39

They had all become so important to me. So precious. As my new family—my friends and lovers—filed into Oleander"s bedroom, I could feel everything they felt. They hardly ever bothered to try shielding their emotions from me these days. They just accepted me and my sometimes uncomfortable abilities. They were wary at first, but as time passed, they just… seemed to stop caring that I could sense everything they felt, as if it didn"t matter that they were open books to me. Such trust. And while that acceptance alone was reason enough for wonder, they took it a step further; no one here ever asked me to use my abilities against the others. They never sought to use me as a tool for their own gain, the way others had every time I had thought of getting close to people in any long-term sense.

It was novel. And not something I ever wanted to lose. From the moment I met these strange creatures, tasted the depth of their wounded hearts and their yearning souls, I wanted them to be happy.

I closed my eyes for a moment, sifting through the complex layers of emotion that flooded the room. Love, lust, self-loathing, determination, nervousness, envy, hope, tenderness, possessiveness. And longing… so much desperate longing for comfort, for peace, for something solid and secure. Longing to belong. Longing for everything to just, for once, be okay.

A soft smile curved my lips as I let a bit of my magic unspool, drawing out and enhancing the emotions that would lead to togetherness, muting the fears and self-doubt that would lead to distance. My eyes met Ambrose"s black and red gaze from across the room and he quirked a smile to match mine, revealing gray shark teeth that should probably be frightening, but to me, were just a part of him. I felt the fear diminish, the darker emotions fading as the boogeyman devoured them. I wasn"t alone in this endeavor. He wanted a forever home as much as I did. I gave him a small nod.

Zhong placed Andy on the bed, every movement of his powerful, hulking body radiating gentleness. His emotions were tender. Protective, caring. And, yes, lustful as well. His master was his world, and he would give every bit of himself to make her happy in every way. What I didn"t think the others fully realized was that his care had slowly extended to them as well. Zhong would protect and care for any of us. Even those of us who were the most difficult to love.

Andy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, kissing him slow and deep. I sensed how languid and full of love she still felt from spending a comfortable, quiet evening with all of her lovers. Her emotions were conflicting, though. She was so worried about our future and all the problems plaguing us, and she felt it was her personal responsibility to fix it all… but right now, other emotions were winning out, love and the desire for closeness at the forefront. The need for comfort. To be held and shielded.

Niamh sank down on the bed beside Andy, threading her fingers through our witch"s green tresses and kissing her neck. The fae was a font of strength, determination, and will. But even she was scared. They all were. And it made them lash out at each other and get lost in their insecurities and differences. Niamh and Zhong worked together in perfect concert to woo Andy and light up her body with gentle, loving touches. Elijah flowed from the pendant between Andy"s breasts and was welcomed into her aura, where he settled in with feelings of gratitude and wonder. Everyone else yearned. But they held back. They feared.

I had promised not to use my powers on Dyre after our initial interaction went so poorly. But I risked it now. I could feel both presences inside him. The wraith was impatient, but holding back, his presence dimmed to allow Dyre control of their body. Dyre was the source of the feelings of self-loathing, of doubt. But he was also the source of the most powerful desires. He wanted to belong. To be worthy of being part of this. He wanted to be welcomed into that small tableau on the bed. But his fear and insecurities—and his wounded pride—held him back.

I drifted closer to the necromancer, put a hand on his cool arm. His violet eyes met mine, and I tilted my head in question. He seemed to know what I was offering, with no need for words. He might be good at throwing up walls, but the man was so sensitive, so much more aware of the subtle emotional environment around him than he wanted to admit. It was a trait most abuse victims had in common. Always vigilant. Always monitoring the moods in the room. The long column of his throat worked as he swallowed, considering. Then he hesitantly nodded, giving me permission.

I reached out with my aura, with my magic, touching the threads of desire and longing in him, strengthening the tender, vulnerable emotions that would drive him to act. Ambrose slipped behind his lover, one dark hand coming to rest between Dyre"s shoulder blades as he devoured the man"s pain and fear. Then, the mischievous boogeyman pushed.

Dyre stumbled forward with a huff, but didn"t resist, sinking to his knees by the bed and taking Andy"s arm from around Zhong"s neck. He lifted the witch"s hand and kissed the palm, the soft underside of her wrist, probably sending magic through their bond, letting her know he was there, that he would not hide away or shrink under the disapproval of others.

Aahil made a sharp move to follow the necromancer, feelings of possessiveness and anger flaring. I stopped him with a hand around his throat, pulling him back against my chest. "Peace," I murmured, command in the words, and a bit of calming magic in my aura.

Aahil pushed into my grip, making me tighten my hold on his throat and wrap my other arm around his torso to hold him close. He didn"t speak, but I felt it all. He willingly let me feel what he felt this time. And I was not surprised at the emotions. Fear at the forefront. Always fear. Fear of losing control, fear of being used. Fear of losing himself. But a new fear had taken over lately. Fear intermingled with love, so tightly tangled that the two emotions were nearly inseparable for him. He loved Andy. Fiercely. He needed her. And he didn"t want to be without her. And that terrified our jinn.

He saw love as a weakness, as a means of manipulation. He knew the necromancer had hurt Andy, and so all of his fear was now channeled into his feud with the other man. He wanted love and belonging just as much as we all did. But he had very little capacity for how to handle that desire. Or for how to handle being so genuinely attached to another person. It was terrifying for him.

I slid my hand upward, so it rested under the sharp angles of his jaw, then pulled, tilting his head back to stop him glaring at Dyre. His eyes slipped closed as he surrendered control to me in a way he never would for anyone else, except perhaps Andy. I rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. Then I moved to whisper in his ear. "I"ve got you, flame. Be at ease."

Control or be controlled. It was the only language Aahil had known for so long. My grip on his body and my ability to quench his magic gave him the space to feel his strange new emotions and move past them without attacking anyone. Containment that I was happy to provide.

That little problem handled, I watched as Zhong retreated a bit and Andy tugged at Dyre"s hand, pulling the necromancer onto the bed. I sent an extra bit of calm his way, to soothe his sudden burst of anxiety. "Remember what we spoke about," I whispered to him. Those haunted violet eyes met mine for a brief moment, and he shuddered.

Dyre and I had spoken, after his standoff with the others in the kitchen the day of his most recent lifebond with Andy. I had tried my best to get him to understand the others. Why they resented him so. How they all had the same fears that he did. How we were all so new to this realm of relationships and love. To freedom. I had asked something difficult of him, which I thought might heal the rift between him and the others.

It was a painful and terrifying idea I had posed to him. But I knew he understood. He and Sunshine had lived their entire combined existence by watching for and extorting the motivations of others, by using people"s reactions to them to their advantage to stay alive. He understood when I told him that in order to earn the trust and respect of the others, a sacrifice was required.

Dyre was, in many respects, the strongest creature in this room, perhaps even stronger than me. He could decimate everyone in the room—devour their souls, animate their corpses, and walk away without a scratch, feeling more powerful and energized than ever. And on some deep, primal level, they knew it. They knew the danger that stalked among them, and they saw him, subconsciously, as a threat to everything they yearned for. A threat to their tenuous hopes for a new life with our witch.

In order to overcome that, he was going to have to offer them something meaningful. Something that made him vulnerable and reminded them we were all the same.

Zhong and Niamh were ridding Andy of her clothes, revealing luscious curves and soft skin. She was everything a witch should be, full of life, her creamy golden flesh flushed with color, her woman"s body plush and fertile. An offering to the Goddess.

Next to her, I could sense Dyre"s feelings of unworthiness and embarrassment. From things he"d said here and there, I knew he felt like the pale, shadowed husk of what a witch should be. An abomination, drained and starved by his pact with the dark entity inside him. His anxiety bloomed around him, and his eyes searched for mine. I met his gaze and gave him a small nod, sending a wave of reassurance his way. I wouldn"t force him to be here. Or to do anything he didn"t want to do. This choice was all his. But if he made it, I would help ease his fears. I would be his safety net. So that we could all be closer.

He pushed himself to his knees on the bed, then closed his eyes and pulled off his long-sleeved t-shirt, tossing it aside, his armor discarded on the floor in the presence of the people who had rejected him.

Ambrose made a soft noise of concern in his throat and disappeared in a swirl of shadows, reappearing behind Dyre in an instant. He knew Dyre was facing one of his most intimate fears, revealing the body that so many would scorn as evil, cursed, repellant. And one that was riddled with scars, a twisted map of the abuse he had endured at the hands of his powerful witch family.

Andy pulled away from Niamh and Zhong to kneel before Dyre with surprise and a hint of panic lacing her aura. "Dyre. You don"t have to do this."

He met her eyes with a steady gaze and a flood of determination and love. "It doesn"t matter. I don"t care who sees, as long as you"re here."

He reached for Andy, and I smiled as she immediately sank into his embrace, meeting his kiss with no hesitation, with nothing but love and acceptance. I tried my best to send some emotions toward Dyre, an attempt to convey what I saw. How beautiful they were together. The long lines of Dyre"s slender body wrapped in Andy"s curves. The way his glorious blood-red braid shifted against the rough scars that covered his back. How I saw the tracery of dark veins beneath his pale, bluish skin as a thing of beauty. Different from the witch in his arms, yes, but no less pleasing.

Either my efforts were successful or, more likely, Andy"s touch and Ambrose"s abilities eased his fears. Dyre"s long fingers stroked over Andy"s skin, outlining the flare of her hips, as Niamh moved behind her, slipping an arm around the witch and downward to her core. Andy moaned against Dyre"s lips as Niamh pleasured her, and the desire in the room ratcheted up a notch. Ambrose dematerialized his own clothes away in a puff of shadows, bending to kiss Dyre"s shoulder, directly over one particularly puckered scar. The cruelty that had been inflicted on Dyre"s body before he was elevated to necromancer was a harsh thing to see, as was the stark cost of hosting the wraith that starved him and drained his mortal body. As Ambrose"s dark hands moved lovingly over Dyre"s prominent ribs, I felt the others take it all in.

They knew that for Dyre to be so scarred, those wounds had to have been inflicted before he hosted the wraith with its ability to heal its host. Dyre had been a child still, when that happened. And the beatings had to be so brutal that even a blood witch"s naturally robust constitution couldn"t heal them rapidly enough to prevent scarring. The necromancer had been abused, even before he was forced to host an unspeakable evil inside his body. Not only was his usual appearance, with his emaciated body, corpse-pale skin, bluish lips, and blue teeth and nails, a constant reminder of the evil he carried. Now all of his pain was plain to see, mapped out on his body plain as day.

Surprise. Sadness. Shame. Uncertainty. Regret. Horror. The room flooded with those emotions. But I knew Dyre didn"t want or need pity. That wasn"t the point. What he wanted was understanding and acceptance. Love didn"t come easy to this scarred man, not because he was a cold person who chose to irritate everyone by existing. But because he was every bit as damaged as the rest of them. Maybe more so.

The very last thing this brave, lonely, haunted man warranted was their scorn and rejection.

Aahil went still in my arms, his lithe body losing all of its angry tension as he recognized the fellow victim in Dyre. Zhong"s arching bat wings fluttered before he impulsively reached out a big hand and touched Dyre"s hair, his protective instincts fully engaged. Niamh didn"t visibly react, but her green eyes took in the sight of Dyre and Andy expressing their love, and she exuded feelings of grudging respect for all Dyre had endured. Ambrose was all tenderness and joy for his lover. Such brilliant emotions for such a dark entity. I released Aahil, and he straightened with a little huff, pulled his sensual mask back on, and slunk over to whisper something to Zhong.

Zhong chuckled and reached for Aahil, but the jinn gracefully moved away with a smirk and a muttered demand for the gargoyle to get back to work.

I could feel the jinn"s uncertainty warring with his desires. He wanted to be here, to be present and soak in the beauty of it all while feeding from the sexual energy that was his birthright. But he wasn"t ready to fully throw himself into their passion. I took a seat in a wingback chair near the bed, directly in his line of sight, and arched a brow. A moment later, the jinn was at my side, trying his best to be imperious and demanding. "Are you just going to sit there?" he drawled. "How boring."

I kept my expression impassive as I shrugged. "Sometimes I like to watch. I did help orchestrate all of this, after all."

He sighed and lost some of his tension. "I know what you"re doing, weaver. And I"m not that fragile. I don"t need you over here sitting things out just to make me feel better because my libido is broken."

I met his golden eyes, my voice deadly serious. "Nothing about you is broken, little flame." I waited a beat, sifting through his fluctuating emotions and conflicting desires and fears. "Do you need help?" I asked softly, for his ears only as the others continued to lose themselves in passion. "There is nothing wrong with asking for what you need. And as Dyre so clearly showed just now, there is nothing wrong with showing some vulnerability from time to time. It doesn"t make you weak. It doesn"t make you less worthy of affection."

He drew in a slow, deep breath. Given the maelstrom of emotions inside him, I truly wasn"t sure what his response would be. But Aahil was healing. He was learning to trust. And to admit his perceived weaknesses. "I need you," he whispered, his silken voice wavering with the force of the emotions he struggled to keep in check. "But don"t make me beg. I won"t ask again."

I nodded and pointed to the floor at my feet. "Kneel. I will tell you when you may participate. Until then, you watch, and nothing more."

He resisted the order at first, as I knew he would. But I used my power to overcome his resistance. It was the show of power and containment he needed, and he easily complied. I stroked my fingers through his fine, silky hair, reddish highlights glinting amidst the glossy black. We would play the game. I would be his container and treat him as if he were a pet. For now. It was what he needed. I could see through the lie, could feel the comfort he took from my touch.

A scene of sensual delights and passion played out before us, and I smiled, basking in the emotions surrounding me. Contentment. Desire. Passion. Happiness. Joy. Euphoria. Acceptance. Belonging. Trust. Hope.

Love.