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“No . . . not Morgaine.”
Derisa gave me a sly smile. “She is a trained priestess and one of the original members of the Coterie of the Moon Mother.”
“But . . . will she teach me? Queen Asteria will be furious—”
“The Moon Mother cares nothing for what the Elfin Queen thinks. You will learn from Morgaine. And you will offer your service to Aeval’s Court; the death magic you are learning needs the power of the Night to be fully realized. You are truly a priestess of the Dark Moon, my dear. Not the light.”
She handed me a book. “Here is your book of rituals and shadows. Show it to Morgaine so she can ascertain what she needs to teach you. And when you are done with your training, you will take your place as the first High Priestess of the Moon Mother that the Earthside realm has seen in thousands of years.” Derisa turned to leave.
Stunned, unable to comprehend what she was actually saying, I was suddenly afraid. What if I botched it? What if I couldn’t meet the Moon Mother’s standards?
She stopped near the door, but did not turn. “Silence your fears. They steal your power. The Moon Mother chose you. That is the only thing you need to know for now. Everything else is immaterial.”
And then she swept out of the room, out of the house, and like a living shadow, vanished into the night.
I entered the bedroom, wired from the meeting with Derisa. My world had been turned upside down so many times in less than a week, and now I faced another milestone: the meeting of my three lovers together, in my bed. And I had no idea what to expect. I just prayed they wouldn’t stage a war over me.
The room was glowing softly and I gasped as I looked around. Candles lit up the room, long tapers of silver and purple and black gracing a dozen candleholders scattered around on the dresser, my vanity, and the end tables. A canopy had been erected over the bed, and from it draped sheer silk drapes, swept back to reveal a shower of rose petals covering the comforter, scenting the room with the fragrance of long-lost summer. Romance at its most seductive. But I hadn’t done this so who . . . ?
A movement from the bathroom caught my attention as Smoky entered the room, wearing a robe as silver as the moon. He gave me a soft smile.
“Like it?”
“Oh yes, it’s beautiful. Did you do this?” Once again, relief swept over me. Smoky was home, with me, and he wasn’t going to leave.
“Not alone,” he said, nodding over my shoulder.
I turned. Morio entered the bedroom behind me, wearing his black kimono embroidered with gold.
“My Camille . . . my lady,” he said, catching my hand up and kissing it. “We thought you could use something to lift your spirits.”
Grateful, I ducked my head. “It’s working. Thank you.”
“It was actually Trillian’s idea,” Smoky said, and Trillian stepped into the room, wearing a crimson velvet smoking robe.
“Trillian?” My voice caught. I’d been worried about this moment—how they’d adjust when we were all together. How I’d handle the potential land mines.
He stepped forward and stroked my cheek. “It occurred to me that, since I’m going to have to share you, and since I’m going to be your alpha husband, we’d better learn how to work together. At least in the bedroom.” Trillian’s lip curled into that arrogant smirk I loved so much, but behind it was an offer that I knew was costing him.
I stood in silence in the center of my triad of lovers, looking from one to the other. They stared back, silent and waiting. My lovers. The men of my heart, who completed me, who accepted my strengths and my flaws, my passion and my tears. Who would fight beside me till the death in our war against the demons.
Slowly, I began to undress, one button, one tie, one inch at a time, until I stepped out of my clothes and tossed them to the side. I straightened my shoulders, standing naked before them, the tattoos on my shoulder blades glimmering in the light. The energy of the Moon Mother flowed through me, but from her dark mother phase, bloody and hidden and passionate and magical, death and sex stalking in shadows.
I moved lightly toward Trillian and he lifted his hand to caress my breasts as I stood before him, not touching him, simply letting him touch me. And then, he lowered his hand and gazed into my eyes.
“What is your will, my love? This is your night. We are your servants.”
I pulled him to me and kissed him deeply, my lips hungry for his. As his arms slid around me I reached up and brushed the robe away from his shoulders. He let go of me long enough for the cloth to fall and I stepped back, looking at him from head to toe, slowly, drinking in the site of my glorious Svartan. Rock-hard abs, toned biceps, skin as smooth as silk and glowing dark under the amber candlelight. His eyes glittered—the blue of frozen lakes.
“You are my alpha, my fire and passion, always and forever,” I said, and he inclined his head.
Turning, I moved to Smoky. Two strands of his hair rose to play with my neck, my lips, my hair. I breathed his fragrance, the scent of dragon, the scent of power, the scent of fire, and then I opened my arms and his hair boosted me up. I kissed him, eye level, then slid his robe off his shoulders.
He lowered me back to the floor, stark, pale beyond pale in the glow of the night, tall and strong and rigidly hungry.
“You are my dragon lord, and protector,” I whispered.
And then, I moved to stand before Morio, and he reached out—not with his hands—but with a cord of energy that swirled in ribbons around me, tingling as it fluttered over my thighs, my stomach, the curve of my hips. I stepped forward, cupping his chin in my hand, bringing his lips down to mine where I sank deep into the energy that was his demon nature. His kimono opened and drifted lightly to the side.
