Page 1 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

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I rolled off the panting male, breathing just as heavily.

Inhaling through my nose, I smirked at the ceiling of my esteemed rooms. “Now that was a Wild time.”

Wild snorted. “I had ground to recover after you called me Tame in front of the entire coven.”

He’d recovered that ground too many times to count this week. Since the last step in the ritual, we’d… Well, rabbits would be scared of the frequency of our bedroom activities. I was filing it under Stress Relief, because to say that life had imploded was an understatement.

I stretched on the bed, dreading pulling on my clothes. My attire felt like more of a uniform these days. “Please tell me we have a few more hours.”

Wild kissed my temple. “We have a few more hours.”

The green strand in our four-part tether panged. I could only describe the sensation as a slight ugliness or murkiness reaching to me from his direction. He’d lied. “No, we don’t.”

“No, we don’t,” he agreed.

I groaned. “Remind me why I’m doing this again.”

A portal opened midway through my question. Huxley stepped out, followed by Corentin and Sven.

Wild’s snarl sounded in my left ear. A blanket was thrown over me, concealing my nudity from Wild’s three best friends.

Huxley answered, “Because we don’t want the demons to eat us.”

I pursed my lips. “Demons don’t eat people.” Though, according to Endex’s journals, their diet was protein-heavy—and the creatures they ate weren’t found on Earth.

“Metaphorically eat us,” he snapped.

Corentin patted Huxley’s back, while Sven rolled his eyes and strode to the only seat in the room, a hard, wooden chair in the corner.

Wild murmured in my ear, “He’s had another fight with Spyne.”

“Yes, I have,” Huxley spat. “He’s being totally unreasonable.”

The rest of us stood or sat in quiet disbelief after that ballsy statement.

“He is,” Huxley said louder.

I chose my words with care. “He might be. But Spyne is who I want to be when I’m older, so if you fuck this up, and he doesn’t want to be my friend anymore, I’ll be pissed.”

Huxley glared. “Thanks. That helps.”

“Did you do something along the lines of keeping him at an emotional distance or rejecting his importance to you around other coven members?” I asked.

Huxley’s defiant demeanor cracked.

Corentin patted his back again. “You’ll find your way, friend.”

Sven choked back laughter, and I could feel Wild shaking beside me. Since I’d sorted out the mess of Corey’s magic, he’d been… different.

We called him Positive Patrick behind his back.

Huxley wrinkled his nose. “Leave me with my negativity. Enough fucking patting.”

Corentin pulled back his hand, humming in sympathy.

I needed that sympathy. The coronation was soon. My coronation. Though the coven called the process an accession, the result was the same. My ass would end up on the magus equivalent of a throne.

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