Page 110 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

No reply came, and that seemed an answer in itself.

Have you seen the demon king? she seemed to ask with it.

Yep. Sure had.

“How do all the problems go away?” I asked the quiet room. The demon king was one of those problems, but the more pressing issue was whether Spyne would reveal what he knew.

I’d thought my demon was asleep again and curled up, but she answered, “With more resilience.”

More resilience.

She spoke of it like I possessed an endless source, and I liked to think I had a lot more of the stuff than most.

But even this gal was nearly tapped dry.

28

Esbat was upon us, and if my mind hadn’t been occupied by myriad issues, then I might have appreciated that our magus had spent most of the afternoon purifying for the Mother’s healing at the full moon.

In my white esbat gown, and as centered as I’d get, I walked with the masses of coven members and visiting magus who’d joined us for the full moon celebration. Tomorrow, they’d train with us too.

This esbat was important. Tonight, the coven did their first group healing since my grandmother and mother’s time. Yet Spyne’s response to my demon heritage had hit harder than expected. Clearly, I’d hoped beyond reason that my nature was something the coven might accept because being shunned by Spyne felt… terrible. I couldn’t change who I was. I didn’t want to live without my demon, either, because I felt right with her as part of me. Shouldn’t Spyne understand my dilemma more than most?

His reaction made me want to retreat into myself, and I felt disconnected from the coven tonight.

“High Esteemed.” A magus dressed in royal blue bowed before me. “Regards from High Esteemed Turoc. Your mating is a cause for much jubilation in our coven.”

I could switch the word mating for ovaries in that sentence, and the meaning would remain true. The visiting magus hadn’t stopped staring at me and Wild since arriving. If there was one thing I loathed about this leadership gig, it was the constant attention and loss of emotional privacy. I couldn’t lock myself in my room for a few days as I had at points in my time here. If I was hurting or angry or sad, then I could expect to be masking those emotions from dawn until I closed the door to my quarters at night. That felt stifling, and part of me wanted to go through an esbat alone instead of in a group.

I didn’t want to hold hands and force a smile and dance to fucking lute music with people who’d probably tear me to shreds.

“Send High Esteemed Turoc my regards,” I replied to our guest. “May the Mother’s healing find you this esbat.”

The magus stammered his thanks, and I walked on, growing progressively edgier at the lack of privacy amongst the crowd. Wild strode toward me from across the knolls, and I sighed as he gathered my magic in his and bundled it inward.

My shoulders relaxed as he joined me. “I needed that.”

“I know.” Wild hesitated but didn’t say anything more. We were surrounded, and whatever he wanted to say wasn’t the stuff to speak in front of others. “Our first esbat together.”

I leaned into his side. “That’s right. I didn’t realize. You were snubbing me at the last one.”

“And trying to burn your dress off with my eyes alone at the one before that.”

I chuckled. “Really?”

“If I could’ve thought of a way to do it without being caught, I would have. That white dress makes me crazy.”

“Everything about me makes you crazy. My weenus probably turns you on too.”

“A weenus better not be what I think it is.”

I smirked. “It’s the loose skin on the back of the elbow.”

His brows rose. “Really?”

“Yep.” I held my arm up for him. “See?”

He touched my elbow. “Yeah, that works. I’m hard. I wonder why. Has anyone else touched your weenus?”

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