Once in a Blue Moon

Chapter Seven

In the last fullness of the blue moon, they gathered in the field around the large oak. Torches burned, struck into the dirt. The women were nude, having gathered their nerve to shed their modesty with so many males in the clearing.

They’d drawn down the moon and stood with gleaming skin. They were evenly spaced around the oak, each guarded by three men who stood outside the torch-lit circle, facing outward. The witches had gifted each man with a final dance to empower them if they were called to battle.

A pearlescent glimmer now lit the men’s naked skin. Something the army gathering at the edges of the clearing couldn’t miss.

Ethan glanced back at Bryn. Her expression was serene. Trusting. In his strength, in their bond and the approval of her Goddess. After they’d made love that afternoon, Bryn had said she’d felt approval, a whisper in her ear the moment before they’d climaxed.

A blessing from above, he believed. Love had poured from them both, filled them both. They’d shared in each other’s power. When Bryn had glided a fingertip along his cheek, he’d felt a spark. A troll spark.

Above them, clouds gathered, wisping around the moon but never obscuring it. Distant thunder rumbled, glimmers of light bursting now and then in thick thunderheads. He glanced at Renner. Their god was with them too. Hammer ready. They were all ready, empowered, willing to throw down skin and fur, tridents and lightning. Ethan’s heart thudded loud and strong, the dull tattoo of pending warfare.

The Others encircled them, closing around the outer circle, dark figures dressed in black, faces darkened with earth and blood. They were armed according to their traditions—swords, tritons, teeth and fists.

Ethan’s stony fists would be his only weapons.

Approaching now, the hellhound let loose a fearful growl, his large paws kicking up clods of dirt. And there beside him, her hand clenched in the fur on his back, was Liliana.

Ethereal and deadly. Beautiful beyond compare. She glowed, but her aura wasn’t pure, didn’t shine like white pearls. It shimmered, red and cloudy, murky with evil. Her pale silvery eyes glowed like the hellhound’s. They’d bound their futures and their strengths.

Three tall gaunt men strode beside the pair, skin slightly gray, eyes completely black. Revenants, immortals who sat on the council due to their long memories. One of them lifted a thin hand and pointed a spindly finger, his gaze going beyond Ethan’s shoulder to Bryn. “You have broken with our rules.”

A shudder rippled through Ethan at the leathery tone of the old one’s voice. He drew a deep breath and fisted his hands tighter at his sides. He didn’t dare look back at Bryn to reassure her, not with the hellhound staring him down.

“Your rule wasn’t just,” her voice came, the lovely husky texture unbroken by any doubt. “I was bound against my will with Merrick. My Goddess has given me her blessing, allowed me my own choice. My own champion.”

The revenant canted his head to the side. He peered with his black eyes at Bryn and then at Ethan. His lips thinned, exposing the tips of his white fangs. “You are impudent. Disrespectful of your betters. Only a battle will determine who is blessed.” He shook his finger. “Know this, if your champion fails, you will both die.”

Ethan let out the breath he’d been holding, relieved the others would be spared. “I am her champion.”

“Of course you are, troll.” The revenant’s lips drew up in a derisive snarl. “You reach beyond your birth. Born a troll, you should have been satisfied to crawl out from under your bridge.”

Ethan’s back stiffened with anger blasting hot throughout his body. “I am a troll, and proudly so. I stand as champion for the witch and her sisters. Should I prevail, you will leave us alone. All of us. The women will have their choice of mates. The Others in this circle will stand outside your rule.”

The old one’s gaze swept the circle. “If he wins, you will be dead to us. Outside our protection. Banished forever. Should you cross paths with the righteous, there will be no sanctions should they kill you.” He drew back his head, lifting his chin. “Should you lose, troll, the witches will be returned to their masters. Your friends will be made slaves. All that you have achieved for yourselves will be lost.”

Ethan sucked in a deep breath. He glanced around him, at his friends. Their faces were drawn into harsh lines, but to a man, they gave him nods. “So be it. Unleash your hound.”

Before he had a chance to move away and brace for the impact, the hellhound lunged. Ethan was too close to the circle, too close to Bryn and the men next to him. He roared and grappled with the hound’s fur, afraid to release the hellhound in case it hurt those around him.

The hound went for his throat, teeth bared and snapping. Ethan gripped its neck and held it back, rolling with it away from the circle. His grip gave.

A snap ripped into his shoulder.

Ethan bellowed with rage.

The hellhound leapt away and Ethan pushed up from the ground, felt blood roll down his shoulder. He tried to curl his left fist, but it dangled there.

Fury beat inside his chest. He was far enough away now. Bryn, close your eyes! He roared and shook his head. Beat his chest with his good fist and wakened his inner demon. As quickly as he summoned it, his mind drew away, looking down on his body as he lumbered toward the hound.

“Water, Fire, Earth and Air,

Elementals, hear our prayers.

Wash away our warrior’s pain.

Make his fists as swift as licking flame.

Let the ground shake beneath his mighty frame.

Let winds blow, the sky bellow, and his mighty hammer crush.

Water, Fire, Earth and Air…”

He glanced toward the women, but their mouths weren’t moving. And yet he heard the chanting, felt it inside him, growing louder.

Liliana screeched and rushed past the old one, who caught her with one of his slender hands. Again, she shouted and jerked against his hold. “They’re interfering!” she said, pointing at the women. “They’re helping him.”

The old one lowered his face to hers. “They are praying to your Goddess. Why can’t you do the same?”

She jerked again, pulled free and rushed past him, her arms raised, light shooting from her fingertips.

Ethan felt searing heat explode against his side. He jerked and was instantly back inside the beast, facing another lunge from the hound that took him to the ground.

From the corner of his eye, he watched the old one grip Liliana’s long blonde hair, halting her. Her eyes grew wide, her lips drew back in a snarl as she gave Ethan a lethal glare. Again, she raised her hand, pointing fingers.

The revenant behind her, gave her long tresses a violent shake, using it like a whip. Her neck broke. She fell like a ragdoll to the ground.

The hellhound standing on Ethan’s chest raised his head and bellowed, letting loose a deafening squall.

Ethan swatted him aside, flipped upward to his feet and launched himself at the hound who was writhing now on the ground. He might only have a few moments before the hellhound recovered from the painful withdrawal.

“Water, Fire, Earth and Air…” The men’s voices joined the chant inside his head. He felt lighter, his steps no longer leaden. He balled his good fist and hammered down on the hellhound’s skull. A sickening thud sounded as it gave.

All was suddenly silent. Lightning raced across the sky and a moment later, rain pelted him. He sagged to his knees beside the large, furred body, all strength gone.

Arms surrounded him. Bryn hugged him, burying her face against chest. It was over. Rain was Thor’s blessing. Thunder cracked but lightning never touched the field.

He glanced back to the gathering army. But the field was empty except for Merrick’s furry corpse and Liliana’s body, her pale eyes unblinking. Ethan rose on unsteady legs and pulled Bryn away from the gruesome sight.

The torches hissed and went out one by one. The moon was cloaked by cloud. The witches and his demon friends stood silently in the darkness.

Aoife cleared her throat timidly. “Does anyone remember where we left our clothes?”

Bryn stood near the bedroom door as Radha worked her healing magic on the wound to Ethan’s shoulder. The hound had ripped through muscle, torn the troll’s cross on his arm. Radha had stitched him up because Bryn’s own hands were still shaking too much to hold a needle. And now, Radha laid her hands on the wound to seal the edges of the laced skin, her head lowered.

Ethan hissed, but when her sister pulled back her hand, the raw skin was closed and a healthy pink.

“Make a fist,” Radha said and then smiled as Ethan complied. “All better. Too bad I don’t have a SpongeBob Band-Aid to cover it with.”

Ethan snorted and a tired smile revealed a flash of his white teeth. “Thank you, Radha.” He lifted his head to take in the entire group. “Thank you all. I wouldn’t have survived without your help.”

“Liliana lost the battle,” Darcy said. “The moment she tried to enter the fight against the council’s wishes, she lost.”

No one mentioned her horrible death. And Bryn hadn’t asked what had happened to the bodies on the field. She didn’t want to know. “Yes, thank you all,” she said, “but he needs rest now.”

Covered in bits of grass, mud and blood, Ethan sat with a towel over his privates on the edge of the bed. He’d been in too much pain to dress on the field, and Renner and Sigurd had carried him back between them. The journey back had seemed a crawl.

The women stopped to give her hugs as everyone headed out. Bryn’s shoulders lowered. She was exhausted. Beyond tired. And at the back of it, she was also numb. Where did they stand now? Would the men regret the fact they had sunk their futures within the demon realm by siding with them?

“Bryn, come here.”

She hurried over to Ethan. “Do you need help to get into bed?”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Radha has me well on my way to healing. And the tea she forced down my throat before she started sewing me like a quilt took away the pain. I’m fine. But you look spent.” He patted his knee. “I need you here.”

Gingerly, she lowered to his knee, careful of the many scratches to his neck and shoulders as she wrapped her arm around him. It was a strong knee. Thick, powerful. She leaned her head against him, breathing in his musky scent.

“I know. I need a bath.”

She shook her head against his skin. “A shower. She closed the wound, but I don’t trust you might open a stitch all the same.”

“I’m not sure I can manage a shower on my own.”

His tone gave his intentions away. There was a hint of passion and humor in the deep rumble.

She smoothed her hand down his belly and beneath the towel to cup his cock.

He ringed his fingers around her wrist and pulled it away. “We bathe first. I don’t want to fuck you with his blood on me.”

“I’ll help you—seeing as how weak you are,” she drawled.

They shared wry smiles before she slid off his knee and headed to the bathroom where she gathered towels and washcloths. She started the water, letting it shower over her fingers until it warmed.

“It’s ready,” she said and turned, bumping into his chest because he stood so close.

He skimmed her robe upward. She raised her hands. The garment went sailing. She stepped into the shower with his hands cupping her ass, and the water fell like a gentle rain, wetting her hair and face. She went to the back of the tiled shower, away from the spray, and waited for him to enter. Ethan’s large frame crowded into the space, and he stood with his back to the falling water, staring down at her.

This was a new experience for her. Bathing with a man. Merrick hadn’t been romantic. Hadn’t wanted her except when he was hungry and she was the only one near to give him satisfaction. Ethan seemed to crave her company every bit as she hungered for his.

When he reached for her and began to roam his hands over her skin, she stepped away. “Let me bathe you. Please.”

Ethan’s expression was set, impossible to read, but he dropped his hands.

After soaping a washcloth, Bryn skirted around him. She started with the back of his shoulders and washed in small circular movements down his back to the top of his buttocks, avoiding any raw scratches. Shy of touching him there, she moved around him, letting the water wash away the soap on his back and keeping her head ducked because her cheeks were heating. She gently washed his chest, moved the cloth over his ribs and lower abdomen and then, taking a deep breath, she knelt at his feet.

Ethan leaned back and put his head beneath the water, letting it sluice down his chest. She watched the fat rivulets trace over the ridges of muscle, snaking downward to the hair at his groin.

She set aside the cloth and leaned toward him, following instinct. She needed to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him in her mouth. Her tongue followed the downward curve of his semi-flaccid cock. She gathered him in her hands and opened her mouth, taking as much of his sex inside as she could hold. Then she slowly drew on him, backing away as he filled, her lips sucking, drawing on him, coaxing him into a full erection.

He made no sounds, but she couldn’t help the whimpers she emitted, the ragged sobs that began to shake her as she pleasured him. He might have been lost to her forever. They both might have died. The child that might be growing inside her would have been another casualty.

He bracketed his hands around her face and he held her away. “Don’t, Bryn. Don’t think about it. We’re both here. Safe. Together.”

She bent her head and her soggy locks trailed toward the tiled floor. “I had doubts. I thought that if you lost it would be because my belief in you wasn’t strong enough.”

“I had doubts too. He was stronger than I’d expected. Larger. But the moment I felt you inside me, heard you in my head, hope grew. You gave me strength.”

She glanced up, past his thickened cock to his smoky-dark eyes. “I need you.” It was all she could manage to say. She wanted him, needed that fundamental connection, the locking of their bodies together in a lover’s knot.

Ethan reached down his hands, slipped them under her arms and drew her upward. They stood beneath the water, warm and wet, cleansed of blood and dirt. New.

He cupped her cheeks, stroked a thumb over her bottom lip and then bent and pressed his mouth against hers.

She opened, inviting the slide of his tongue. She coaxed him deeper, sucking on him, grinding her mouth against his. When he pulled away, they were both breathing hard.

He reached for the faucet and gave it a whirl, not tearing his gaze from hers. He slid back the glass door and walked her out, gripping her waist to set her on the counter.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and leaned back on her hands, glancing down to where he was fitting himself against her folds. So thick. So strong. More beast than man there. Perfect.

“Troll,” she whispered.

His gaze darted to her face, his brows pulling together in a questioning frown.

“I love you. All of you.”

His expression darkened. His nostrils flared, pupils enlarging to consume the irises, and then a greenish glow began to pulse. “I love you too, witch,” he growled.

With his strong hands clutching her hips to hold her still, he filled her with a single, thrilling thrust.

Bryn tossed back her hair and squeezed herself around him, daring her green-eyed troll with her eyes to give her everything he had. She could take him. All of him.