Page 52 of Autumn of the Witch

“Babe, is he proposing?” Sasha whispered, which of course Micah heard. Probably even Zev heard it. Micah wanted to laugh, and by the smile Viv hid behind a hand, so did she.

“Are you?” she asked.

“Because that’s not fair. We were gonna do that,” Sasha said. “Or I was. What we do here is, basically, I take you to the fighting pits and tell everyone how hot and smart you are, and then I beat up anyone who wants to court you instead. It’s great.”

“Or,” Viv said, “we do it our way. If that’s what you’re asking, Micah.”

“Is that something you want?” Micah asked. He felt like he’d tripped off the edge of the world and was spiraling dizzily out of control. “You want to mate—marry—me? I know I can’t replace either of you. Sasha, you said no one could be Viv—”

“Of course not.” Sasha looked genuinely bewildered. “She’s Viv. You’re Micah. You can’t be each other; that’s impossible.”

“He means there’s room for you here,” Viv said. “With us. The space you fill isn’t mine, or Sasha’s—it’s yours. We want you because you’re Micah.”

Micah sighed and covered his face with a hand. “That’s… a lot.”

“We’ll remind you, if you forget,” Sasha said.

“Remind me of what?”

“Why we like you.” Sasha sat next to him on the couch and hauled him in with an arm around his waist. “You’re hot. You’re smart. You’re a witch, and can I just say being a husband to two witches is probably a record? I should get a statue. And you’re a good guy. You make kids toys even though you’re not big on the whole… people thing, like Viv heals people’s cats and stuff. You and Viv, right? People were fucking shit to you, but you came out nice. Who wouldn’t want you?”

Micah covered his face again, and Viv leaned over to pat his leg. “I know. It’s like that, with Sasha.”

“I can’t believe I’m glad my house burned down,” Micah said, and then he was laughing, all the stress and pent-up emotion bubbling out of him. Sasha hugged him close, Viv squeezed his knee, and Micah leaned his head against Sasha’s shoulder. “My parents’ voices are still pretty loud sometimes. You know, the ones saying I’m not… normal enough.”

“We’ll tell them to fuck off whenever you want, boss.” Sasha kissed him, and Micah reached up to tug his hair, thrilling at the way that made him moan into Micah’s mouth. Micah turned to Viv and pulled her in as well.

“But there are some things we should talk about,” Viv said, and Sasha’s brows knit together. “I’ve been getting sick less often than I usually do, but what you saw before? It’ll happen again. And there might be a day when my body isn’t strong enough to fight it off.”

Micah thought of his parents, the way the blood pooled to their backs when they died, the strange, inhuman look to their skin as he dragged them outside for the pyre. One day, he might have to see Viv like that. He might have to see Sasha like that, if he were injured on a hunt or fell sick.

“Anything could happen to any of us,” he said. “When you love someone, isn’t it… isn’t it expected, that you might mourn them one day? I’ve hidden away from being hurt before. I’d rather risk it. You and Sasha, you’re worth it.”

Sasha closed his eyes for a few seconds, then looked at Viv. “Yeah. He’s right. We’ll just have to risk it.”

“Okay.” Viv smiled. “Never let it be said a witch of Lukos is a coward.”

They sat there together for a few breaths, until Sasha inevitably broke the silence. “So. Am I gonna go fight people for Micah, or…”

“How do witches do it?” Micah asked.

Viv shrugged. “Same as everyone else, I guess. But maybe we should make our own ritual. We exchange rings, in the Compound. We can get you one.”

“Or we can make one. Something to represent all of us.”

Viv tugged at Micah’s hair. “I love it. We’ll get some supplies from the glassmaker, and we can decide on it together.”

ChapterTen

That night, Micah slept in Sasha and Viv’s bed.

He woke up with Sasha’s arm around his waist and Viv’s hair in his mouth. He’d learned that Viv tended to roll to the edge of the bed, and Sasha woke at the slightest sound. They danced around each other in the morning, and Sasha kept sneaking him sly smiles and practicallybeggedMicah to pull his hair on the way to the kitchen.

Micah was still drifting on the knowledge thatthey like me, they want me, they want me to staywhen Viv put on her hooded cloak and announced that she was going to see her mother.

“What?” Sasha, who was cleaning one of the vents carved in the ceiling while Micah held the ladder, nearly tumbled off. “I thought this was a good day, Viv.”

“It is. And it’ll stillbea good day.” Viv adjusted her cloak. “But since we’re all confronting things, I suppose I can’t put this off any longer. It’s about time I figure something out: why do you think Mother always comes here when I’m sick?”

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