No Sparklies

NO SPARKLIES

T he echo of approaching footsteps pulls me from a light trance.

The silver glow of magic fades from my vision, lingering in faint streaks as my senses recalibrate. I take a deep breath, the quiet hum of energy still pulsing from the stones in my cell.

After the first night, I haven’t needed to lie on the floor to find the ethereal within the cold walls, and I’ve been pushing to see how far I can reach.

I sit up and swing my feet to the floor as Gael appears in front of my cell. His hazel eyes glint as they sweep over my ten-by-ten living space, seeing more than I’d like him to.

His expression turns unreadable. “Get up. Aspen wants to see you. ”

Despite his gruff tone, the hint of a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth.

What is he up to?

I rise as he rolls back the barred door. With a glance back at Owen and the others, I follow Gael out of the dungeon.

“What, no guard?” As he takes the lead up the stairs, I fall into line behind him. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll attack you?”

“The entire fortress has a protective barrier that stops outsiders from using magic.” He throws a smirk over his shoulder. “And I think I can take you in a fight.”

“Don’t be so sure. I’m pretty scrappy.”

“I’ll take my chances.” He pushes open a door at the top and we leave the dungeon, entering the main part of the structure.

The cold chill of the fortress walls surrounds us as we wind through a series of twisting corridors. The thick air carries the scent of dust, with faint echoes of distant voices, and footsteps from unseen corridors. As we ascend to the next level, the weight of the place presses down on me.

“I looked into the battle against the huntsmen,” Gael announces without looking back.

Surprised, I study his broad back. “Oh? ”

“The request for help didn’t go through the proper channels. Your mentor, Mel, called her mothers. They, in turn, contacted the defense team and organized a unit of battle witches to come to Hartford Cove’s aid.”

“Ah, so it was a coincidence they arrived only after the battle ended, just in time to scoop up Elias and shove him into a cell.” I snort in disbelief. “Makes total sense.”

“It took longer than usual to launch the response team,” he admits. “Aven is investigating what caused the delay.”

When he doesn’t say more, silence falls between us.

We exit the stairwell, and he leads me down a short hall, stopping in front of a worn door.

Gael steps to the side, gesturing for me to enter first. There’s something almost expectant to his energy, as if he knows something I don’t.

I pause at the threshold, scanning his face for any clue, but his expression remains unreadable.

Whatever awaits me inside, Gael’s not about to spoil it.

Taking a steadying breath, I step over the threshold, bracing for whatever lecture Aspen summoned me here for .

The door closes behind me with a heavy thud, and I whirl around, only to stop short.

It’s not my mentor standing before me.

“Ros!” In a heartbeat, I cross the room, flinging myself into my mate’s arms.

They close around me, warm and strong, grounding me in a way nothing else can. My breath catches, and I bury my face in his shoulder, relishing the familiar scent and heat of his body.

“I didn’t think I’d be able to see you this soon.” I grip him tightly, afraid Gael will realize he brought me to the wrong room, and I’ll be ripped away from Ambros.

“Took a bit of convincing to get me here.” He rubs his cheek against my head. “I wasn’t about to let them keep me away.”

Longing and relief reflect back at me, and in an instant, we crash together, a tangle of desperate hands and seeking mouths. His strong arms cradle me as his lips claim mine in a searing kiss.

I melt into him, gripping his auburn hair.

“You don’t have much time before Aspen gets here,” Gael calls through the door, voice laced with wicked amusement. “Better make it quick.”

We break apart, panting .

Ambros cups my face, thumb stroking my cheek. “Missed you so much. How are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.” I nuzzle into his palm. “Kiss me again.”

Our mouths meet once more, the tongues curling together in a sensual dance. I savor the familiar taste of firm lips and the faint, copper tang of blood. His hands roam my hips and ass, igniting flames beneath my skin. I arch into his touch, aching for more.

Ambros groans low in his throat, adjusting his hold on me to press his hard length against my center.

“I want you,” he rasps between kisses along my neck, nibbling at my pulse. “I need to be inside you, to claim you again as mine.”

“Yes.” I reach between our bodies, fumbling with the fastenings of his pants. “Hurry, before they come.”

Ambros strides to a small table in the center of the room, setting me down on its cool surface. Shoving up my sweater to expose my stomach, he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my leggings. He tugs them, along with my underwear, down to my knees and slips a hand between my thighs.

His fingers find my slick folds, circling my sensitive bud with a precision honed by long hours spent lost in each other. Moaning, I buck my hips, the delicious pressure building under his skilled touch.

“That’s it, baby,” he purrs, pupils blown with lust as he works me closer to the edge. “Come undone for me.”

His fingers slip lower, thrusting deep inside my heated core. I cry out, inner walls fluttering around the welcome intrusion. He pumps in and out, curling to hit the perfect spot that paints starbursts across my eyelids. I’m so close already, starved for the touch of my mates.

With a growl, Ambros withdraws his hand. Before I can protest the loss, he grips my legs, hooking them over one arm as he frees his hard length from the confines of his boxer briefs.

“I love you, Rowe.” Gazes locked, he sheathes himself inside me with one powerful thrust.

I gasp at the exquisite stretch and fullness, fingers gripping the edge of the table for purchase. He sets a frantic pace, driving into me over and over, the sound of our bodies coming together and our mingled panting echoing in the sparsely furnished room. The drag of him against my inner walls sends pleasure spiraling up my spine, and my toes curl within the confines of my shoes .

“Mine,” Ambros hisses, hips snapping hard against me.

His lips pull back, exposing his small fangs, and his eyes fix on my neck. For a moment, I think he’ll bend me in half to sink them into my vein, to add new heights to our joining as he feeds from me.

Yearning for it, I tip my chin up, head tilting to the side in invitation. But he wrenches his head away with obvious effort.

“No time.” He buries his face against my calf. “Soon, though.”

The knowledge we can be interrupted at any second only heightens the fever pitch of our desperate coupling. I teeter on the edge, my muscles tightening.

“That’s it, baby, come for me.” His hold on my legs turns vise-like, the fingers of his free hand digging into my hip. “Give it all to me.”

I release my hold on the table to cover my mouth, muffling my cry of release. My inner walls clamp around Ambros, and he groans in approval, pounding into me even harder. His cock throbs inside me, and with a muffled shout, his release floods my channel.

He slumps forward, one hand on the table, our bodies still joined as we catch our breath .

I want to linger in the afterglow, to curl up in my vampire’s arms. Conscious of the ticking clock, though, we separate, fixing our clothes.

Pleasure still flushes my cheeks when a perfunctory knock announces our alone time has ended.

The door opens, and Waylon strides in, glancing between us with obvious surprise to find Ambros here. “You’re needed in the other room. Zane is waiting.”

“I love you.” Ambros bends to cup my cheeks and, ignoring our audience, kisses me like this may be our last.

When his head lifts, I grip the table for support, my pulse racing all over again. “Love you, too.”

Then he’s gone, leaving me aching and alone.

Aspen enters and turns to Waylon. “I’d like time alone with my apprentice.”

Waylon’s gaze flicks up to the ceiling before he nods and backs from the room, closing the door.

The moment we’re alone, Aspen pulls me into a tight hug, the crisp scent of pine and frost enveloping me. “How are you holding up in here?”

“Everyone keeps asking that.” I pull back. “It’s not so bad.”

“It won’t be for much longer.” His expression turns sober. “I’ve come to discuss your upcoming trial with the tribunal.”

He draws me over to the table, and I hurry ahead to take the chair in front of where Ambros and I defiled it, leaving the nice, clean spot across from me for Aspen.

He settles in the seat and clasps his hands together. “If the tribunal is fair, which it should be, then there’s nothing for you to fear. Ambros can testify that Bryant kidnapped and tortured you, then followed you back to Hartford Cove to continue his torment. You were defending yourself.”

“All of which could have been handled without throwing us behind bars,” I grumble.

Frustration flickers across Aspen’s face. He opens his mouth, but hesitates, darting a glance at the closed door.

When he speaks, his voice comes out neutral. “The council will weigh all factors in your case. To use magic to take a life is a grave offense. The steps must be honored in absolving you of guilt, or it puts the entire tribunal into question.”

“Right.” My knee bounces under the table. “So Ambros vouches for me, and Zane vouches for Esme, and then we all get to go home.”

Aspen’s expression turns guarded. “It might not be as easy for Esme. There aren’t as many witnesses to Esme’s abuse, and Calix’s mother?—”

“Is related to the Northern Trinity,” I finish.

“So you’ve heard.” Aspen sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “She’s been here since Calix’s death, building a case against Esme and Zane.”

“Esme has hospital records to speak for her abuse.” My hands curl into fists of frustration. “The human police already ruled it self-defense.”

“The human police have no say in paranormal affairs, and Mirella Draven has been painting Esme as a clumsy young witch who was always messing up and injuring herself.”

He lifts a hand before I can protest. “I’m not saying I believe it. I’m just telling you what we’re facing. Mirella is painting a much different picture than what Zane and Esme say happened, and she has the trust of being family , while Esme is an unknown who killed one of their own.”

“Can’t they cast some kind of truth spell or something?” I demand, outraged on my friend’s behalf.

“Such things are not reliable if one believes their own delusions.” The hand comes up again to stop me. “Which is what Mirella will say when Esme’s story rings true. ”

“Which means we have to prove Esme acted in self-defense.”

“We could do that, if we had more time, but…”

I glare at Aspen. “We’re not letting Esme and Zane take the fall for this just because Calix was a momma’s boy who got away with everything, even after death.”

He lifts his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “I’m open to suggestions. But I want you to be prepared for things not going well for your friends.”

I refuse to prepare myself for that outcome, but there’s no point in arguing it with Aspen. “At least justice moves like molasses here. I can’t believe they still haven’t dealt with Elias.”

Aspen grimaces, avoiding looking at me.

“What?” I lean across the table. “Just spit it out.”

“The punishment for vampires is either imprisonment or death.” Reluctantly, he meets my eyes. “For witches, justice moves much faster. Esme will have her powers bound as soon as judgment is passed.”

My stomach sinks. “What will happen to her baby?”

“Not all witches survive losing access to their magic,” he whispers.

“But her baby is a witch.” All witches bear witches, no matter their sire’s species. When Aspen remains silent, I whisper, “What about Zane?”

“He wasn’t there when Calix died, but he helped Esme run from the council. He will most likely face time in imprisonment and starvation.”

My nails dig into my palms. “And you want to be one of the Trinities? These are the people you want to join?”

“The biggest chance for change comes from within,” he says, though the words lack conviction.

“How long have you wanted to change the system?” Bitterness coats my tongue. “A month? A couple days?”

“Rowe…” He shakes his head. “Don’t lash out at me because you’re angry.”

“Damn right I’m angry!” I thrust to my feet, knocking back my chair. “Did you ever even question why the Northern Trinity would send their sons to do grading on a bunch of no-name witches in the middle of nowhere?”

He stands, too. “It was an honor.”

“That none of us deserved!” I slash a hand through the air. “Or are you so full of yourself that you thought they were honoring you ? Because I have a secret to tell you. They were there to spy on us!”

His face hardens. “That’s enough, Rowe. ”

“It’s not nearly enough.” I lunge up onto the table, scrambling across its surface.

Alarm flashes across Aspen’s face, and he reaches for his wand, only to find his pocket empty. They never would have let him keep it and left him alone with me.

I grab his wrist with one hand, and his shirt with the other, yanking him close. “I have another secret, dear mentor. Your precious way of relying on wands is a crutch and limits your ability to grow.”

Conscious of his reaction the last time I did this in Silver Hollow, I press just the tippy top of my pinky to his racing pulse and open myself up to the ethereal all around us.

He jolts as if a lightning bolt passes through him, his eyes going round as saucers.

“Do you feel it?” I whisper into his ear. “Push past the pain, ignore the blinding brightness. Do you recognize the protections of this place?”

“Yes,” he wheezes.

“I wanted a quiet life, just me and my dog, who sometimes turned into a human. I never wanted magic.” Without him fighting me, I release my hold on his wrist. “But everyone kept pushing for me to be more, then getting annoyed when my more was never enough. So now I’m telling you that your more isn’t enough. Esme and Zane are part of my pack. Find a way to save them, or I will. ”

I release him, and he crashes onto his chair with a gasp to stare up at me as if we’re only meeting for the first time.

“Find out what the Trinities are really after, because I’m only going to stay fine for so long.” Scooting backward off the table, I drop to the floor and head for the door, where I knock on it for my escort’s attention.

Footsteps sound from the other side, and I turn back to Aspen. “Whatever game they were playing when they sent the Hutchen brothers to Hartford Cove, they made a grave error in bringing me here.”

Tris always teased that I could take over the world if I wasn’t so easily distracted by shiny things.

Which means it’s the Northern Trinity’s fault for locking me in a cell with no sparklies to keep me entertained.