Wolf Moon Rising (Beaux Rêve Coven 3)

“Aoife…?” Ethan said softly.

His gentle tone didn’t make her feel any more secure. Often, his voice softened when he was in a rage. The troll had to fight his true, aggressive nature.

“Look at me.”

For a second, she closed her eyes, drawing on her fast-evaporating courage. When she met his gaze, she quivered.

“Why did you leave your house in the dead of night?”

She shrugged and attempted a little smile, but the gesture faded when his dark, thick brows lowered. Ethan had always intimidated her, even before she’d known he was a demon. He was too large and too dark. His unyielding stare was sufficient to give her the shivers. His size and strength were enough to make him the natural leader of his tight group of demons, but she’d always feared him, even knowing how much Bryn loved and trusted him. Gods, he was a troll!

“That won’t cut it,” Sigurd said from where he stood across the table.

Remembering how he’d treated her, carrying her like a sack of potatoes on his strong shoulder, made her blush. He’d been nude. Although his body wasn’t something she hadn’t already seen—and touched—the strong emotions his physique engendered were disturbing. And he’d known that fact. Laughing at her, and shaking his thick cock, as his anger made him bristle and his eyes glowed gold.

Her bottom still stung from the swats he’d administered. She shifted in her chair. “I needed air,” she whispered.

“Stepping out on the porch, with one of your guardians, wouldn’t have sufficed?” Ethan said, his tone low and even.

She bit her lower lip and dropped her gaze. Maybe she could outwait them. Then she wouldn’t have to lie.

The scrape of a chair sounded, and from the corner of her eye, she watched Bryn leave her seat beside Ethan and move toward her. No, no, no. Bryn was like the older sister she’d never had. The mother of their coven. Her element was Earth, and she embodied all the maternal, nurturing instincts that went with it. She couldn’t lie to Bryn.

Despite her very pregnant belly, Bryn knelt beside her chair then slowly enfolded her in her arms. Not saying a word. Simply hugging her.

Aoife sniffled and let loose a soft sob. Then she sank against Bryn and rested her head on her shoulder.

Bryn stroked her hair and began to rock. “You can tell us, you know? Whatever it is. We’re here for you.”

Aoife didn’t lift her head but shook it, drawing in the comfort of Bryn’s scent. She smelled sweet like the pies she’d baked that day. “I can’t, Bryn. I just can’t.”

“Have you done something that awful? I can’t imagine it,” Bryn cooed. “You’re our joyous little sprite. Let us help you. Because I know something’s been bothering you. We’ve all noticed how quiet you’ve been. What has you so worried?”

At that moment, Aoife sank even deeper inside Bryn’s embrace, feeling the flicker of witch’s heat coming through her soothing hands. She relaxed. Then surrendered. “I’ve kept a terrible secret,” she whispered.

Bryn made a shushing sound. “How bad can it be? Sweetheart, you haven’t a hint of darkness inside. I would know. Share your secret. Unburden yourself. We all care for you.”

Tears leaked in a steady stream. “For years I’ve lied.” Again, she fell silent, unwilling to face their censure—which would surely come once her secret was out.

Another chair scraped. Gentle hands touched her shoulders from behind.

“If you can’t tell us, will you let me see?” Radha, her sister witch, whispered.

Aoife’s breaths shortened. She nodded.

Radha hummed and glided her hands upward to cup either side of Aoife’s face.

Aoife let her see.

The tree, with its golden light. The gleaming doorway that opened.

She stepped through the portal and along the tunnel of tightly woven gold and green vines. When she reached the end, she straightened.

A figure stepped in front of her, dressed in black, head to toe. “Your glamour, witchling!” he said, his voice pitched low and menacing. When she hesitated, he reached out and shoved her to the ground.

Aoife quickly waved a hand and lifted the spell she constantly wore. Her body trembled as it revealed her true form, and she touched the tips of her pointed ears.

Radha gasped, and her hands left Aoife’s face.