Page 100 of Sticks and Stones and Broken Bones

She might be right. I was fading. Blood poured from my nose, my eyes. I was tired, but I needed to keep going… needed more…

A hand touched my shoulder, cool and comforting. I looked up and saw the face of my mother.

“Mum?”

“Hello, sweetheart.” She smiled, her skin translucent like a ghost. “We’re here.”

I felt another hand rest on my shoulder and saw another face, one that I recognised from the gallery at the coven house. They were here. They’d heard me. Sweet relief flooded me before I felt a surge of power come from the women of my history.

I felt their power like a physical thing, a warm embrace that spoke of love and support, of faith and hope. A sob wrenched out my throat as I finally felt everything just release within my own heart. For so long I’d struggled to feel part of a coven, and here I was, right at the centre of it.

My power surged and the rest of the barrier turned to dust under the might of our combined power. And there it was. The heart of a twisted, selfish, pathetic witch.

My grandmother fell to her knees, anger and shock twisting her features. “This isn’t the end. Mark my words. You’ll regret—”

I crushed her heart with one clench of my fist. “No, I won’t. I won’t regret it at all.”

Then she toppled sideways and disappeared into dust.

That was it. She was gone and with it the hold on my other ancestors. Each of them appeared like a ghost, a word of thanks and a blessing on their lips before fading to the afterlife where they belonged.

They all disappeared, until there was just my mother left.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t the mother you needed,” she said softly. “But I am glad you have found where you belong, and I am so proud of you. You beautiful, wonderful girl.”

Tears filled my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you better, but I understand more now. Thank you for the sacrifices you made for me.”

“Oh, sweet girl.” She pressed a cool kiss against my forehead. “Be happy and live.”

And then she was gone.

Chapter Forty-Six

Raevyn

The rest of the witches had folded after my grandmother had died. Well, not that she was really my grandmother. Her name had been Ingrid Raathmore and she had been burned at the stake for practising dark magic. She had healed her town and they’d turned their backs on her, but it had been the only decent thing she’d done. Turns out, she’d been a real fucking nightmare in her time, but that was all in the past now and I was back where I belonged.

In my huge fucking bed surrounded by six beautiful men.

I’d been exhausted to the point of depletion by the time the guys had found me, and I’d slept for days, waking only for food and snuggles. The Raathmore Coven had been dissolved. It had been a tough decision, but I felt that the association with death and the Revenants had turned it from the good thing it had once been, into something twisted and dark. The Revenants had wholly supported my decision. They had plenty of other followers who used their patronage for good.

I’d handed the reins to Willow Crowley, the sister of the evil cow Nissa. Willow was cut from a completely different cloth than her sister. She’d left the coven, run away and been on the run ever since. I was more than happy to pass her the title of Coven Mistress, provided that she went back to the old ways. She’d been more than happy with that. I also asked her to look after Robyn, my baby sister. I didn’t think the Underworld was a place to bring her up, I still wanted to be a part of her life and I would one hundred percent be there for her, but she needed a home that would raise her as one of their own. Somewhere she could learn to be a Raathmore witch in the right way and growing up with a bunch of assassins and mercenaries probably wasn’t the best place for that.

Speaking of assassins and mercenaries… My gaze landed on the sleeping collection of men that surrounded me and I was instantly fucking horny. Apparently, being surround by men that looked like sex on a fucking stick would do that to you. Or it might be the fact that we’re all tied together forever, or that they’re excellent at snuggles or well, any number of things. The most important thing was that I was theirs and they were mine.

I trailed my finger along Nox’s bottom lip, playing with his lip rings.

“You keep doing that, pretty girl,” he said huskily, “and I’m going to have to do something about it.”

I leant closer and sucked one of the rings into my mouth, tonguing the piece of jewellery before letting it go.

“Fuuuuuck,” he moaned, his eyes sweeping open, mischief brewing in those blue eyes of his. He cupped my jaw and brought his lips to mine. I kissed him softly, with every ounce of longing and love I could muster. A warm feeling bloomed in my chest as his tongue lazily explored my mouth, his piercing playing over the ridges at the roof of my mouth. It felt wicked, and it reminded me of how it had felt rubbing over my clit.

“Mmm, I’d love to see that,” Hawk murmured, his lips brushing against the side of my neck and his mind picking up on my thoughts. My core thrummed under their attention, and I moaned deep into Nox’s mouth. I was aware of the rest of the guys stirring and more hands started gliding over my body, pulling the covers off exposing my skin to their touch.

“Fuck, your gorgeous, Lilac,” Rook said on a moan.

Hands trailed the outside of my thighs, my torso, my breasts. Fingers plucked my nipples, pulling them into taut peaks. There was pleasure everywhere, mouths and hands caressing any bit of skin they could find until every nerve ending was alive, and my pussy was fucking dripping.

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