Page 7 of Wicked Witchmas: Elara & Tripp

“And?”

“It appears he’s formed an attachment.”

Yes. She’d felt the moment he kissed his potential mate. Theyalldid here on the island of Messia, where their family of gods and goddesses dwelled. Her wayward son had made a monumental mistake today. So much so, the repercussion could be felt in the rumbling vibration of the ground beneath her feet.

Having it confirmed, she waved away the handmaiden. “You may go, Eloisa. Thank you.”

After the young woman bowed and backed away, Brelenia allowed herself a triumphant smile.

“You’ve met your downfall, Enguerrand,” she said aloud as if her son were in the room. “Watching you navigate the maelstrom will be entertaining to the extreme.”

She almost felt sorry for him, for what was to come.

Almost.

Brelenia crossed to her wardrobe and swept aside the gossamer curtains. The room was larger than her bedchamber and contained clothing she’d favored throughout the centuries, from creation day to the present. As one inclined to prefer tidy surroundings, she maintained staff who were as organized as she was and cared for her precious treasures as if they were their own.

But the one thing Brelenia never shared, the prized possession she’d kept hidden, was a unique pair of footwear, able to adapt to the person wearing them. They might sometimes appear as sandals or, at other times, clogs or boots. When possessed by the unworthy, they created catastrophic chaos. But a chosen one could wield their magic, given the proper incentive.

As their first owner, she ultimately found a partner in Enguerrand the Second. Their journey hadn’t been without its trials, as were all deity-mortal relationships. However, they’d developed a deep, abiding love the bards wrote songs about and other couples coveted.

Enguerrand the Third, or Tripp, as he preferred to be called, was the first of their five offspring who refused to settle down. Like his father before him, her firstborn was stubborn to a fault and refused to take direction. The boy would cut off his left arm if it meant spiting Brelenia. The foolish child believed he could hide fromher.

Born of a drunken union between Cronus and a lesser goddess, Darana, Brelenia was the unknown half-sister of Zeus. Her birth had been hidden by necessity, as Cronus was fond of killing his children so they didn’t overthrow him and reign supreme.

She had never desired the responsibility Zeus assumed when he defeated their father, and she was happy ruling her island for eternity as a relative unknown. Her job as ruler to hard-working,kind people who wished for peace above all things fulfilled her and kept her too busy to bother with war and the headaches it brought.

“What has you so deep in thought, my darling?”

She glanced up to see her lover. “What else?”

“Ah, Tripp.” Eyes dancing, Rand smiled. The gesture was broad and engaging, causing her to sigh, much like she had when she was a mere girl and first saw him wield his wicked grin at another.

“If you knew, darling, why did you ask?”

“You like to say, ‘He’s stubborn like his father,’ but it’syouhe takes after, Brel. How many centuries have you been trying to marry the poor boy off?”

“I’ve lost count.”

His chuckle was felt to her toes, and she curled them in response. She tilted her head to let him lavish her neck with nibbling kisses.

“Our ‘poor boy’ is hopeless, Rand! His rebellion is delaying my job to see the rest of our children settled.”

“There’s no reason you can’t see to their futures. Let Tripp run free, Brel. It’s not causing any harm.”

“Of course it is! Did you forget about the last disaster?”

“The Titanic?” At her nod, he frowned. “I keep telling you it was faulty ship design and an iceberg, darling.”

“And I keep tellingyouit was because he tried to dodge the Fates. Those poor people might still be alive if it wasn’t for his obsessive need to avoid entanglement.” Rand’s snort annoyed her, and she sent him a sour look as she crossed the room. “Roll your eyes all you want. We both know the truth, and so does Enguerrand.”

“For the love of Messia, Brelenia! Stop buying into this madness.”

Hurt he couldn’t see her point of view, she shrugged and poured herself more wine from one of three carafes sitting on the sideboard. “Believe it or not, but his relationship woes have caused fifty percent of the world’s natural disasters—and a good forty percent of the man-made ones.”

“Look, I’ll grant he was misguided during the French Revolution, but didn’t he rectify it by encouraging Wellington to remain strong, leading to the capture of Napoleon?”

“Precisely my point! If he hadn’t put ideas in the heads of those poor peasants, none of it would’ve happened.”

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