Page 51 of First Ritual
Instead they’d poured everything they’d had left into me.
Why was I here when they weren’t?
I didn’t want to be here when they weren’t.
Lock the darkness away, Tempest.
I exhaled slow and long, then grabbed my quipu and sat on the huge bed. I’d need to hang the piece on the wall and work in standing soon. The quipu was showing me how large it would get if I remained in the Buried Knolls.
Losing myself in the piece was easy. I felt the remnants of black fury ebb away to calm. My mind emptied of clamor. White noise. Screams. Distractions.
I inspected my braids and knots after. Wild’s strand on the quipu was enormous. That annoyed me as much as it entertained.
Bang! My door burst open, and I jumped as Wild stormed in.
Standing on the bed, I squared my shoulders, magic at the ready in case he’d lost the plot for real.
“Your—” He cut off to stare at the quipu, then inhaled. “What are you doing?”
I banished the quipu. “None of your business.”
The rest of the quad filed in behind him.
I sighed. “Sure. Make yourselves at home.”
Sven pushed between Huxley and Corentin and flopped on my bed. “Don’t mind if I do.”
Huxley scanned the room, his green eyes taking in every detail. Thank fuck I’d hidden my quipu.
Corentin headed to the darkest corner and perched on the trunk there.
Wild paced. He’d showered and dressed in his usual hooded black tunic, black jeans, and his pendants.
I watched for a while, and when nothing happened, said, “Is this about you getting a massive boner over me nearly killing Corentin?”
A grunt from the dark corner. “He did?”
“Called me queen.”
Sven’s eyes popped open. “He what?”
“Yep. My queen.”
Huxley whipped out a notebook. “My queen,” he murmured.
Someone save me from these four. Seriously. The pacing was doing my head in. I jumped to the floor and rested a hand on Wild’s back when he passed me. He paused, muscles coiled and nostrils flaring as he glared hate at me.
Quirking a brow, I slid my hand inside the neck of his tunic to touch his skin. A deep, soul-deep sigh left his lips. Tension drained from him.
“Intriguing,” Huxley muttered.
“Romantic,” Sven added, then shared a snicker with Corentin at Wild’s grimace.
I fluttered my eyelashes. “So romantic.”
He moved away so we weren’t touching, and I grinned.
Sitting next to Sven, I inspected my nails. “What do you want? I’m hungry.”