Chapter 12

Kate

I’m yawning in a chair at the breakfast table, morning sunshine turning the kitchen into something gilded and magical. We all slept like the dead last night, Flick curled up at our feet, Stix in our pillows, and Ebon perched on our headboard.

I’m starting to wonder how I ever survived living in this house all alone. I can handle a lot. I think I’m a pretty resilient person, but the loneliness was killing me. That’s my weakness. I crave company (the right kind of company), and I didn’t even know it.

A smile teases my lips as I cut a bite of the eggs benedict that Brooks made.

I’m only smiling because I haven’t picked up my phone yet. Georgia has called thirteen times, so it must be bad. I’ll call her back, but I need coffee, food, and a shower first. Probably sex, too.

“What are you grinning about over there?” Marlowe asks, all sleepy-eyed and hunched over in his hoodie. He has bags under his eyes, and so does Tanner. Not Brooks though. I’m sure I’ve got them, too. That spell was huge . Not only that, but I grew a crop of pumpkins and Marlowe called on a cloud. Tanner suffocated some influencers, and Brooks lit a bonfire that didn’t spread and that he could walk through.

It’s been a week for sure.

“Do you guys want to skip work today? I’ll call Mrs. Madsen and let her know what’s going on. In exchange, we should definitely exorcise that ghost for her. After the gate and stuff, obviously.”

“We’re definitely not going to work today,” Brooks agrees, serving Tanner a plate of food next. He pauses to turn and lean against the counter, sipping his coffee. I give him a look because he might be the leader, but I’m still the boss of my own business. “We’ll stay in for a few days so that I can work on the gate spell. We’re not going back into those woods unless I’ve run all the numbers and decided it’s the only option. Even then, if we do go, we have to get it right the first time.”

I’m more than okay with staying in. I take another bite of my food, and it’s amazing. Perfectly poached eggs. Beautiful bernaise. Honeyed ham. Homemade English muffins. My body needs it, too. I can tell. I’ve lost a little bit more weight from all the spellcasting. I could honestly double my calories and maintain.

Marlowe yawns and lets his head fall back, half-asleep in his chair.

“My mom gave Miriam and Dennis my fucking number. If they ask us over for dinner one more time, I’m blocking them for the rest of my life.” His lips make a cruel but appetizing shape as he ponders that punishment. “No, I might end up killing them both.”

“Stop that. Let’s invite them out to dinner somewhere and get whatever closure you need from them.” I put my fork down and stretch my arms over my head, attracting Brooks’ attention. I sound like I’m quoting him, don’t I? Gross. I lower my voice to mimic his. “ But just remember, youngster: they are not our friends. ”

That gets all three of them to laugh at me which feels so fucking good.

Last night, we were riding high from the adrenaline of the crowd and the spell.

This morning? I woke up and dove under the blankets, sucked Brooks’ dick until he shot a hot burst of cum on the back of my tongue. And now I’m embarrassed. I yank my t-shirt back down when it shows off my navel.

That’s too much for me right now, his eyes on my belly button.

“I want to take you guys out anyway and show you off. We can get you all dressed up and go out on a double date.”

“I don’t want Miriam there if it’s a date,” Marlowe says, shoving his hood off his oil-slick hair. It catches the light and turns a thousand different colors. It’s almost metallic. With his black eyes, and the tattoos crawling across the backs of his hands and down his arms, he looks anything but human.

Although the rumpled hoodie helps.

It’s almost cute.

Tanner grins, and I flush.

“Just us four then. A proper date. We’ll have to get used to doing it together, since we can never be apart.” He leans in and raps his knuckles on the surface of the table. “ Never. ”

“Not even for a special one-on-one date?” I sound like I’m pleading, but I think I’ve lost my mind because I want him to confirm that indeed, we must never ever be separated. Georgia is going to kill me.

“A pair of us will sit on the opposite side of the restaurant. How does that sound?” Brooks sips his coffee, his green eyes all over my body. He wouldn’t let me and Tanner help with the cleanup when we finally went outside last night. Brooks ordered us into bed, and I wanted to sleep so badly that I pretended like I only did it to ‘obey’ him.

Then he and Marlowe came back and I made sure to reward them for their efforts. Heh.

“Maybe eventually.” I pick up my fork again. “Let’s go on a date as a coven then.”

I feel so good about what I just said until Brooks ruins it.

“We’ll go as three men with our wife.” Brooks smiles at me, but it’s a challenge, too.

He wants to see if I’ll argue with him since he’s ordering us to do exactly what I want.

Fucker.

“No, as a woman with her three husbands.”

“Same fucking thing,” Brooks replies, and then he rudely sips again. He’s arrogantly sipping. He’s sipping just to dig himself under my skin.

The doorbell rings, and I groan, putting my face in my hands.

Brooks and I were feeling each other right there. We don’t have to go out today. We could be having sex on the kitchen floor.

I drop my hands and stand up.

Not one of the men moves to stop me when I go to answer the door. Not only that, but they don’t seem surprised either. They must know who’s on the other side, one of the only humans determined enough and brave enough to walk through that horrible foreboding spell we cast.

“I was about to call you,” I tell Georgia as I open the door. I’m only surprised to see that she has Fernanda and Tacy with her. Jared honks and waves out the window before driving off.

They’ve brought alcohol.

I look from the brandy in Georgia’s hand to her face.

“Sure. And I was going to come over no matter what you said. Kate. I’m not sure I know how to say this but … what the actual fuck ?” She shoves past me to come into the house, footsteps loud on the old creaky floors. She pauses at the kitchen doorway to sigh.

“The sex tape was unfortunate. The zombie thing was bad. I’m … well, I’m not sure that words can adequately describe how damaging yesterday’s incident was. There are dozens of people claiming to have lost an entire day from their memory. Many of them were streaming live when they passed out, and it sure looks like they were here, harassing you in your own front yard.”

“I made a mistake.” Tanner looks over at the women, tossing a bit of ham to Flick. The next piece he throws is stolen out of mid-air by Ebon. Fernanda and Tacy flinch in surprise, but Georgia is unfazed by the six-eyed monster crow with teeth. “Not by breaking that man’s arm, but the rest of it. The magic was a mistake.”

I peek out the front door while they talk, but there’s nobody on the sidewalk or the road. Our spell is so strong right now that even our neighbors left. It’s just us and the woods for several blocks. Fog drifts down the street, fingers of cool white cloud crawling and clinging. What was in those charms that made this spell so much more impactful than the last one?

And why did Brooks look like it hurt him to use those bottles?

“Driving over here was hell,” Tacy tells me as I close and lock the door, guiding the girls into the living room. Georgia doesn’t bother with a glass for the brandy nor does she care that it’s two o’clock in the afternoon. The guys and I slept in really late because of the spell. “I wanted to cry or run or maybe jump off a bridge. I’m not sure.”

“Oh my God, your house.” Fernanda puts her hands over her mouth when she spots the cluster of glowing pumpkins against the far wall. They’re ice blue with red spots. The vines are all over the grandfather clock.

“We thought about picking them, but Brooks says they make a useful poison.” I’m just repeating what I was told, but Georgia gives me a dark look over her shoulder. “We’re not planning on killing anybody.” I roll my eyes, like she’s crazy.

Wait.

I did let the guys talk about murdering the person who posted the sex tape. I agreed with them. I was serious about it. My eyes shift to the pumpkins. No. No. We’d use magic for murder if we needed to. Maybe the pumpkins are for the Hag?

She was flying in circles around the house today, her reflection moving from one window to another as she made her rounds.

I doubt poison works well on a god, but you never know.

My eyes shift to the kitchen. The men haven’t come out yet, offering some small semblance of privacy for me and my girls. Maybe they can stay in nearby rooms and keep up the illusion?

“We’re spending the night with you, Kate. All three of us. You need it. This viral stuff is getting out of hand.” Georgia takes a seat on the couch and relaxes back into it, bottle in hand.

“We can do a spell to fix it, but we were trying to close the gate first. I’m wondering if it wouldn’t be easier to scrub the internet instead.” I let Fernanda have the big cushy chair in the corner, joining Georgia on the sofa. Tacy sits on my other side and we pass the bottle around.

We’ve never once done this, had a day-drinking sleepover.

First time ever.

Seems like the Witchwoods are bringing me closer to the girls and the guys.

I appreciate that.

“Even if you scrub the internet, can you make everyone forget about the woods?” Georgia asks, and I nod. We can do that. Maybe we should do that? I meant to ask Brooks about it.

He comes out of the kitchen, dressed in one of my grandmother’s robes. She had dozens of them, most of them barely used. This one is hand-dyed red and black silk, a gift from one of her friends who runs a booth at the farmer’s market. It’s loosely tied, but hanging off his broad shoulders, showing off that hard-earned muscle in his chest and midsection.

Nathan hit the gym three, four times a week. He was in shape. Somehow, his physique feels manufactured compared to the Witchwood men. They earned every muscle under the threat of death. No, worse. The swallowing of their souls by the Hag. Starvation. Poison. Predators.

My men are built out of threats, survival, and struggle, and I know my girls notice. Georgia purposely stares at the wall. Tacy looks at the coffee table. Fernanda blushes and forces her gaze to the pumpkins growing out of my floorboards.

Brooks quirks the edge of his lip, still sipping coffee in that way of his. I narrow my eyes on him, but what he says next surprises the hell out of me.

“Can I get you ladies anything? Coffee? Eggs benedict? I could whip something sweet up.”

Georgia swings her attention over to him, like she’s as surprised as I am.

Marlowe slips past in his hoodie, pausing to study the women in the room.

My cat is inside his hoodie pocket, tucked up nice and snug, bite-y head peering out with those creepy eyes of hers. She hisses at the girls which is pretty normal behavior for her. Marlowe gives her a two-fingered stroke on the head, and she calms down.

Two fingers. He notices. I notice.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need me,” he says, sucking his lower lip under his teeth before taking off for our bedroom. Our. Yeah, it’s definitely our space now. I wouldn’t want it to be just mine anymore.

I hear Flick barking, and I figure Tanner is taking him out back to play frisbee. Or to kill more of the cute cuddly woodland creatures that live in the vacant forested lot behind the house. Or because he’s tracking the Hag Wytch, checking the buried deer hearts that make up our protection spell. Maybe all of those things.

“Coffee would be lovely,” Fernanda says, turning to look around the edge of the chair at Brooks. He’s leaned up against the wall, casual and confident and sexy. He seems so at home here. Instead of annoying me, the thought makes me happy.

“ You walked into those woods and became a fucking saint for us, Katelynn.”

Damn.

He cracked my heart in half with that one.

“Coffee for me, too,” Tacy adds, even though Georgia gives her a look. “I can’t start with the brandy this early or I’ll be asleep by seven. Aren’t we here to help Kate?”

“Of course.” Georgia looks at the bottle in her hand, brown eyes dark, expression contemplative. “We’re also here because of the Hag. The stones you gave us are helping, but we’re still seeing her. The gate is still open, and if you decide to redirect your attention to the internet—which I fully support—we’re going to need to be able to protect ourselves.” Georgia tips the bottle to her lips, chugging down another mouthful of liquor.

“You want to form a coven?” Brooks suggests, reaching up to fix the silk of the robe as it slides down the inked curve of his bicep. It’s like watching a striptease, and he knows it. His verdant eyes are still locked on mine. He’s got a pair of my black sweatpants on underneath it, but that’s it. Barefoot. Shirtless. Domestic, somehow. “That’s probably for the best. It’s going to take me a few days to figure out our options. It’s likely we’ll have to cross into the woods to close the gate, and there’s no guarantee we’ll make it out alive.”

Tacy puts a hand over her mouth and Fernanda chokes on a surprised gasp.

Georgia takes another drink before turning to look at me, sympathy softening the hard edge of her gaze.

I don’t want to think about that. I can’t let myself think about that. One day at a time, that’s what I can do. It just seems so crazy and fucked-up that I’d find happiness for myself, fill in the empty well of loneliness in my heart, only to have it all taken away.

But then … I think I can handle death. I’m not afraid of death. I’m only afraid of being lonely again.

“I’ll write out the spell for you. As I said, we’ll provide the sacrifice.” Brooks pushes up off the doorjamb and moves into the living room to stand on the other side of the coffee table. He lifts up his hand and snaps his fingers, starting a roaring fire in the fireplace.

Tacy gapes, and Fernanda giggles, but Georgia is unfazed.

Outside, it starts to rain even though it’s still sunny.

My grandma called it fox rain because it’s tricky.

Fox rain coming down in sheets.

“What if we stopped the flow at its source?” I suggest, wondering if Brooks knows how to make cinnamon rolls or if we have the ingredients for them in the house. A half-dozen balls of pale white light drift through the wall on my left, floating past Brooks’ head. He waves them off with a tight smile.

“I don’t know what they are, but we call them jack-o’-lanterns. One of a very few harmless creatures from the woods.” Brooks waves his hand again, and the balls scatter through the kitchen wall like panicked insects. Just before they disappear, one of them turns toward me, and I see that it has a little face. The term jack-o’-lantern makes a lot of sense. “By stopping the flow, you mean dealing with … the internet.”

Even the way he says the word makes him seem old-fashioned. Three very distinct syllables there: in-ter-net.

“If the issue is people going through the gate and propping it open for the Hag Wytch, then there are two options. Closing the gate or stopping the people.” When I say it like that, it seems so reasonable.

Brooks crosses his arms, and the robe just gives up and collapses over his shoulders. It pools in the crooks of his elbows and leaves all of that tattooed skin on display, the scars on his collarbone that are mimicked on my own skin. Our coven. The mark of us.

“True. We could dissolve the crowds and stem the fervor. But.” He exhales, and the fire jumps as if in response to his breath. Ebon comes wheeling into the living room, settling herself on the top of the grandfather clock. “That won’t bring the police officers back or stop the investigation.” He offers a wry smile. “It won’t stop the Hag. I’ll think it over, work through the possibilities on paper. Now …” Brooks steps forward and leans down, arms still crossed, gaze on mine. “Do you want anything to eat before I get started?”

“Cinnamon rolls.” The words come out before I can stop them. “Also, shouldn’t we make this decision together, as a coven?”

“No.” Brooks stands up, but he’s still smiling. The robe is throwing its own revolt, swooping down his broad back as he turns away. I’ve never been so caught on the shape of a man’s shoulder blades before, but Brooks has a beautiful wingspan. “I’ll make the decision, and you’ll eat the cinnamon rolls. Have fun with your friends.”

He disappears into the kitchen, leaving me alone with the girls and the grandfather clock that’s still ticking away.

“He’s insufferable. I’d kill him in his sleep.” Georgia passes me the bottle, and I take it.

“I thought so too at first, but he grew on me. They all did.” I swig the alcohol and pass it back.

“How?” Georgia sounds genuinely curious, so I let myself think on the question, wanting to give her a proper answer.

Tanner appears before I can find the right words, soaking wet from the rain with my dog wagging his tail beside him. He’s shirtless, too, a bit of pinkish blood draining down his chest from God only knows what.

He licks his lips and winks at me before heading into the first-floor bathroom. Leaves the door cracked. Seconds later, steam rolls out from a Marlowe-induced insta-hot shower. We catch a flash of his naked thigh before he disappears behind the shower curtain.

“That.” Fernanda crosses her own arms, dressed in an adorable white-lace dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves. She pushes her big, round glasses up her nose. “That’s how. Do you see these guys? Book boyfriend material, hands down.”

“Please tell me that’s not true,” Georgia groans as Tacy turns to face me, tucking her legs up and wrapping her arms around them.

“Please tell you that they’re not book boyfriend material?” I tease, but I accept the bottle again when she hands it back to me. “No can do. They’re gorgeous, good in bed, and they bake cinnamon rolls. Mostly that last part. Trust me: once you get to know them you’ll like them better.” I pause and add an amendment to the statement. “Except for Brooks. I’m not sure that you two will ever get along.”

“Are we really going to kill somebody?” Tacy asks, her voice a whisper, her eyes on Ebon as the monster crow cleans her feathers with sharp teeth in an even sharper beak.

“If you want to form a coven in a timely fashion then yes.” Brooks appears with two mugs of coffee, passing them out to the girls. Tacy thanks him under her breath and Fernanda blushes. “Like I said, don’t worry about it. Whoever we pick, it’ll be a boon to the community as a whole.”

He heads back into the kitchen and, a few minutes later, I hear the light trickle of music. Is he … using his phone? He must be. The song sounds old-fashioned, so I use my phone to look it up.

“ Only You (And You Alone)” by The Platters.

I smile.

“Oh dear,” Georgia breathes, and I snap my gaze back to hers. She’s staring at me with stark terror in her expression. “I was right: you are in love. Don’t even lie to me, Katelynn Poppy. I’ve known you since forever.”

I force myself to take a deep breath before I answer.

“Yeah,” I tell her, a tightness taking over my chest. “Yeah, I am. With all three of them.”

I swig some more brandy. Georgia does the same.

Outside, the rain and sun compete for attention.

Fox rain. Cinnamon rolls. Good company.

And the Hag, watching us from the reflection in the living room window.

The men are great about staying out of the living room, but they pass by frequently, to and from the kitchen. The garage. The front yard. Marlowe asks me if he can move some things into the attic, and I tell him that’s fine. Brooks bakes cinnamon rolls and then later, he makes sandwiches. Mostly, he sits at the table while the spoon in his tea stirs itself and works over spells in a language that only he can speak.

Tanner is the first one to join us, taking a seat on the floor in front of the fire while my traitorous dog lays its head in his lap.

The girls and I are all a bit buzzed by then, scrolling on our phones to assess the damage from yesterday’s incident. It’s bad. Really bad. There are clips of people flying backwards from an unseen force. Footage of the news vans toppling over and skidding across the pavement.

Half of the world thinks it’s a hoax while the other half thinks we should be burned at the stake—literally.

“There’s money to be made here,” Tacy tells me, ever the practical one. “Merchandising deals. You could start posting your own content, beat others to it, rake in the money from all that.”

“I don’t want to live my life under a spotlight,” I admit, my words a bit slurred. “Besides, business is going to boom with my new employees.” I grin and pick up the very last cinnamon roll. It has no right to be this good and this chewy when it’s hours old and no longer warm. Fucking homemaker/asshole Brooks McDowell. “Did I mention that we can turn leaves into money? We don’t need internet blood money to survive.”

“Leaves into money?” Fernanda’s already massive eyes get even wider and she leans forward, lace dress slinking down her shoulder. She’s got pink cheeks and adorable freckles, a pale bosom that’s tinted red from too much liquor. My eyes shift to Tanner, but he isn’t looking at her.

He’s looking at me.

Marlowe comes into the room next, swiping a bit of sweat and dust from his brow. I think he was cleaning the garage again.

“Will we be able to do that, too?” Tacy asks, and it’s Marlowe who answers this time.

“With great effort. You’ll be hamstrung without a North.” His dark eyes flick over me and take me all in. Brooks is right behind him, like this is some sort of coordinated effort.

“It’s late, and we need sleep if we want to cast.” Brooks glances at Marlowe, and the two of them share a long look. They sign at each other. Tanner strokes his hand over Flick’s head, waiting. “Kate is right: it might be a better use of our time and energy to calm this feeding frenzy down. Safer, too. If we can avoid going back into the Witchwoods, that’s what I want to do.”

I feel my cheeks flush with pleasure that he listened to my suggestion and took it seriously.

He really is a good leader.

“You’ll still have to close the gate at some point, I assume?” Georgia asks, chin resting in her hand. She’s staring into the fire, lost in thought. Her entire life is about to change, and she knows it. Tacy and Fernanda, I don’t think they fully understand what it’s going to mean to be a part of a coven.

Georgia knows. It’s why she’s going to be the Brooks of their group, the leader.

“Might be easier with two covens,” Brooks suggests, bringing over a mug of herbal tea and setting it in front of me. “Finish that and come upstairs,” he says, looking into my eyes. He leaves before I can figure out how to respond to that.

Part of me is tempted to sleep in the spare bedroom with the girls, but … the rest of me is yawning and wants to curl up with the men in our massive bed. Damn it. Brooks has a habit of doing that, ordering me to do exactly what it is that I want to do.

“Is he always this much of a bossy prick?” Georgia asks, and Lo laughs at that.

“Always. Wish I could say that he gets better over time, but that’s not true. Get your ass upstairs, Kate, so I can fuck it.” He heads up the staircase while Fernanda breaks out into more giggling and Tacy chokes on her drink.

Georgia sighs and looks over at Tanner next.

“Well? It’s your turn to be a dick. What’s your line going to be?”

Tanner stands up and stretches his arms over his head, bringing his shirt up to reveal his navel and the sprinkling of blond hair that leads into his pants.

“I don’t need a line. Kate wants to come upstairs. Of course she does. We’re a coven.” He moves over to the coffee table as I pick up my tea, testing it to see if it’s too hot. It’s not. It’s perfect. Likely, that’s Marlowe’s doing. “The three of you will move in together. You might not be sexually attracted to each other, but you’ll have bedrooms right next to one another and you’ll sleep with your doors open.” Tanner chuckles and rubs his hand over his jaw. “Some nights, when life is just too goddamn much, you’ll drag your mattress into someone else’s room, sleep on the floor close to them.”

“Oh, is that what we’re going to do?” Georgia returns, but I can hear the truth in Tanner’s words. More than that, I feel like I’m getting some of the backstory that I’ve missed. The men haven’t talked much about what it was like living in the cottage together.

“It is. And you know how I know that? I didn’t even know Brooks and Marlowe before any of this happened. We’re not even from the same decade. I had animosity toward Brooks, and Lo sure as hell has animosity toward me. Still, we slept in the same room sometimes.” Tanner shrugs and then steals the mug of tea from me when I set it down. He finishes it off for me and then holds out a hand, offering to help my buzzed and sleepy body up from the couch.

I take it and he hauls me right up and over the coffee table like it’s nothing.

“Sleep well, ladies,” he says, throwing me over his shoulder as I shriek, Georgia groans, Tacy laughs, and Fernanda sighs longingly.

“Seriously?” I ask, but I’m in too good of a mood to complain. Also, I might be more than buzzed. Might even be drunk.

“Seriously.” Tanner kicks open the cracked bedroom door, brings me inside, and then hauls it closed behind him.

Brooks and Marlowe are already there with our assorted menagerie of pets.

Tanner climbs onto the bed with me and then gently chucks me into the pillows, leaving me to bounce a bit on the mattress. The windows are open to the rain, gauzy curtains billowing in the breeze. I can smell the woods and the sea both, and I close my eyes on the next inhale, drawing that scent-memory into my chest.

Tanner flops down on my right. Lo is on my left. Brooks is at the edge of the bed closest to the door.

The four of us sit there in silence as I stare up at the ceiling, the sound of Flick’s gentle snoring the only noise besides the summer storm and our combined breaths.

“I wanted to hate you guys,” I murmur. “It’s not working out like that for me.”

“Sorry to be such a disappointment,” Tanner teases as Marlowe huffs out a laugh.

“Want us to be meaner?” He sits up and bends a knee, tossing an arm over it as he gazes down at me through the moonlit half-dark. “If that’s what you want, I’m sure we could make it happen. You’re sweet, Kate. We’re not. I feel sorry for you.”

Brooks yawns, stretching his arms overhead.

“Hey, I set out to dislike you, too. Didn’t work for me either, so you don’t get to complain.” He drops his hands to his blanket-covered lap and then adjusts his legs so that the comforter slips down, revealing the side of his hip and ass. His dick is obscured by a bit of wrinkled sheet. Too bad. Seems like he might already be naked.

“My friends are here, you know. Shouldn’t you sleep in pajamas?” I don’t mean what I’m saying. The bedroom door is locked, so it’s fine. I just want to rile them all up a bit.

“Already told you, Kate. I won’t live my life on the whims of other people.” Brooks tilts his head to look past Tanner and over at me, antlered shadow creeping up the headboard behind him. Tanner doesn’t make it easy to look at anyone or anything but him with the way he’s running his thumb back and forth between the bottom of his t-shirt and the waistband of his pants.

There’s a strip of flesh that commands my attention, even in the muted gray shadows of the room.

“Your friends …” Marlowe trails off and I turn over so that I can see him better. He bites his thumbnail before casting the tenderness of his gaze down to me. That dark bitterness is melting at the edges, and while it adds to his haunted look, it also makes me want to kiss him so badly that my mouth aches. “They’re annoying—especially Fernanda—but they’re good sports.”

“Did you just unironically use the term good sports ?” I ask, rolling away from him again. He slaps me so hard on the ass that I scream in surprise. Not a bad scream. I just didn’t expect it. “Dude, my ass is stinging now.”

“Isn’t that the point?” Lo smirks at me. “Or was that too hard for you, princess? I’m terribly sorry. Won’t happen again. I won’t spank you for as long as we live.”

I kick back at him, but he snatches my ankle and drags me so that we’re spooned together. His arm is heavy and comforting around my waist.

“You dick. You can spank me, but only if you plan on fucking me after.” I push my ass against the bulge in his sweatpants, and he clamps his hand over my hip, holding me there.

“Wait. You somehow thought you were coming to bed without having sex? Where did you get an insane idea like that? You have three husbands, Kate.” Marlowe nips my ear, his laughter soft and dark against it. The sound cuts right through me, turning my body into a prison that I want to unwrap. There are big feelings under my skin, roiling heat in my veins.

“I like your friends. They disliked us from moment one. If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have trusted them.” This is Tanner, shoving his sweatpants off and tossing them onto the floor. He takes his shirt off next, throws that, too.

“That’s a fair point. They have good judgment—especially Georgia. She hates me, doesn’t she?” Brooks pushes the blankets down, and I get this tingly feeling on the back of my neck, a premonition for what’s to come.

“She does.” My voice is quiet, like an accompaniment to the rain instead of a competing sound. “But only because she doesn’t know you.”

“Do you think you know me, Kate? It hasn’t been very long.” Brooks is on his knees beside Tanner. Both of them naked. Marlowe is shoving his sweatpants down, yanking mine over my ass. Oh yes. Please.

The bonfire. The blood on our mouths. Running through the woods. Getting caught.

My coven.

“I think we all knew that coming into this we had nowhere to hide and nowhere to go. We opened up together, and there’s no putting it all back into a box. I know you guys.”

Marlowe rolls me over and mounts me from behind, one hand braced against the headboard, the other gently wrapped around the front of my neck. Not squeezing, just bracing. His mouth is at my ear, tongue teasing, teeth nipping.

“You’re right. And that’s the scary part. You do know us, and you like us anyway. That’s why you’re too sweet, Kate. You should’ve never let me into your heart, and you did it anyway. I should be your villain, sweetheart, not your lover.” He releases my neck, adjusting his hand to my hip and pushing himself up into a better position.

Marlowe fucks me first. Then Tanner, with a firm grip and rough fingers, but a hot body and a loving touch. Brooks is last, simultaneously commanding and affectionate.

Once we’re all finished, I find myself sprawled diagonally across the massive bed.

My head is on Lo’s hip, my body draped over one of Tanner’s legs, my feet tangled with Brooks.

The rain continues to fall. It still smells like earth and sea, but also like witches and sex. Our shadows are tangled on the ceiling together, even though it makes zero logical sense for there to be shadows on the ceiling at all.

Mine is happy and horned, curled up in a nest of monsters.

I smell incense, and I smile. That would be Fernanda. She loves incense enough to carry it in her purse on the regular. See? She’s definitely cooler than me.

“I know you guys,” I repeat into the quiet, and I can feel all three of them shift in some way. “I’m going to believe that unless you prove me wrong. Somehow though, I have a feeling that you’re going to prove me right instead.”

“Christ.” That’s all Lo says, but it’s a soft heat. He’s charmed.

“I’m glad you finally believe what I told you the very first night that we met.” Tanner laughs at me, reaching down with his fingers to trace my hip bone.

“Get some sleep, my coven. We’re going to need it for that fucking internet spell.” Brooks sighs, but it’s hard to sound put-out when you’ve just had an orgasm and you’re lying in a bed that’s the size of three kings put together.

There’s basically no bedroom left. It’s all bed. And I don’t care.

With the breeze tickling the curtains, and the water pounding on the roof, I let myself fall.

If I do, they’ll catch me.

I’m not afraid to fall asleep, fall in love, or fall—period.