“When it comes to you?” I asked, tugging on that curled lock, “Absolutely. However, this is something you need to do, is it not?”
Calia nodded, shifting on her feet without breaking my gaze. “I do.”
“I am not a perfect man, and I will continue to make mistakes out of my desire to protect you—but I will not presume to know better than you. I will not stand in your way, wife,” I admitted, my voice soft but resolute.
Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me into a harsh kiss. We came together in a tide of tongues and teeth, stealing the breath from the other’s lungs in a war for dominance.
Her hands dug into my neck as I lifted her from the ground and placed her ass on the table. I stepped in between her legs, forcing our bodies together without breaking contact.
She broke the kiss first, grinding herself into my hardening length with a moan. “Rion, I?—”
“Calia, it is time—” Elios began, abruptly cutting off as he strolled through the door.
She pushed me away, averting her gaze and straightening her clothes. “Right! Coming,” she mumbled, meeting him at the door. She held it open, pausing to look at me. “I’ll see you later.”
“Of course,” I said, failing to hide the disappointment in my voice. “Be safe.”
She nodded once, shifting on her feet, before slipping out. At the sound of the door closing, I brushed my fingers across my lips. The ensuing silence revealed the truth of her kiss, a truth I had desperately been avoiding.
A final goodbye.
“What in thehell is that racket?” I called, bounding down the steps into the foyer, sidearm at the ready. Jasper followed quickly behind me, his own gun drawn and ready as we neared the door.
Calia, Brielle, and Elios left quickly. I trusted Elios to convey the severity of our plight to the gods, though we could not anticipate their response. Castor followed suit, ensuring the Vail was apprised of the danger that would befall Kallistos should any of us fail.
A polite, quiet knock sounded against the massive frame, followed by a guttural, godsawful screeching croak. It was akin to an off-tune ballad sung by a bawdy, drunken crowd. Wholly unpleasant and cringeworthy.
“I’ve heard a horde of rats make more pleasant sounds,” Jasper muttered, sliding to a halt in front of the door.
We braced ourselves, taking a moment of pause before I reached for the handle and swung it open.
“Afternoon, gentleman,” Ballard chirped, walking through the door with a massive, gilded cage in one hand and his briefcase in the other. Rain poured behind him, dripping from his jacket onto the floor. “Weather’s a bit shit, isn’t it?” he asked,setting the items on the ground and shrugging off his jacket. He turned and hung it on the small coat rack, which I was not sure had ever been used.
The cage rattled on the ground, clattering against the hard floor and adding to the miserable noise echoing off the walls.“Let me out, you insufferable bastard!”the voice screeched.
Jasper and I tucked our guns away, staring at the cage as it nearly tipped over, and a wretched curse rang out.
“Uh, Ballard?” Jasper asked, tapping his foot. “What the fuck isthat?”
“Ah, you’ve brought my big cuddly boy!” Sloane’s voice cried out, rounding the corner and falling to her knees in front of the cage. She quickly threw off the cover, unveiling the largest raven I had ever seen.
It ruffled its feathers, squawking in—what I would assume—was eager exhilaration as Sloane swung open the door. It hopped out, dancing around and flapping its wings as she swooped it up in her arms and pressed a chaste kiss to the top of its head.
“Were you good for your uncle Ballard?” she cooed, standing and walking back toward her room without a second glance. “I don’t know why I’m asking. I’m sure you were a perfect angel.”
“Uncle Ballard?”
“A fuckingraven?”
Jasper and I spoke simultaneously, turning to Ballard in utter confusion. The man sheepishly ran his hands down his chest. “Not by blood, you see. Her father was one of my best friends. He transferred her into my care before he died,” he explained. “And yes, sort of. Poe is her familiar, who just happened to take the form of a raven.Much to my dismay,” he added, muttering under his breath.
“What happened to her father?” I asked, beckoning Ballard toward the dining room where Sloane had begun setting up for the spell earlier. In lieu of the table, a large chalk circleencompassed the area. Smaller areas were marked within—diamonds for three items connected with purposeful lines. Sloane warded the area, marking the walls with protection runes and words drawn from the old language.
“Her mother died when she was but a babe, and her father was never quite the same after. Incurable sickness, they called it, but I think his heart was simply too broken to go on.” He set his briefcase in one of the chairs, hesitating before fiddling with the latch. “Everyone said he was selfish for wanting to be reunited with his wife when he had their little girl to care for, but I never shared that sentiment. I think some wounds are too deep to heal, no matter what good comes our way. It’s difficult to come back from such agony alone.”
It was.By the gods, it was. I could not tell if he had wanted to say his piece on the matter or if, somehow, he knew the words would ring true in my soul. It did not matter either way because I could not have spoken truer words myself.
“And the big bird?” Jasper asked, crossing his arms.
