becomes something deeper, more erotic, and I moan with a new need.
“Can we make love on this throne?” I ask him, breathless.
“On this throne,” he agrees. “Or on the floor. Or on the tables. Anywhere and everywhere my anchor desires.”
I give him a sly look. “Can I wear the eyepatch?”
He laughs, head thrown back, and then hands it to me.
The only thing sexier than the lord of storms when he’s driving deep inside me? Is when he’s smiling in my direction and devouring me with his gaze.
That’s how I know I’m home.
Epilogue
I run my fingers over the threads of the web, waiting for the picture to change. The threads shift, forming pictures, and eventually outline Yulenna’s face. She’s standing in her personal chambers at the tower, surrounded by spiderwebs. Her smile is bright as she waves at me.
“Hey!” I say in greeting. “About time!”
“Sorry,” she says with a small laugh. “I was, ah, distracted.”
“Ew, gross, don’t tell me any more.” I pretend to plug my ears. “I’m still scarred from your last story.”
Her laughter peals through the hall, and I grin back at her. Yulenna’s so ridiculously happy, it’s obvious even from long-distance. Serving the Spidae suits her admirably, and her skin practically glows with pleasure. She doesn’t mind that they’re weird since apparently they spoil the hell out of her and end up doting on her as much as she dotes on them. Being an anchor to them has been good for her, and good for them, though she is overly fond of sharing sex stories that I’d rather not hear.
I still find the Spidae creepy, after all. I don’t want to hear about her pleasuring all three of them at once. Again. I’m still trying to scrub the image of that from the last time she told me about it.
Still, it’s nice to have a buddy to chat with. I liked being friends with Yulenna before, and now that we’re both anchors serving gods, we catch up regularly through the web and chitchat about daily life…among other things.
“So?” I ask, practically dancing in place. “Did you check?”
“On the woman for Markos?” She nods. “Her thread is strong and not currently entwined with anyone else’s. Are you sure you can maneuver the two of them together? Or should I get my masters involved?”
I wave a hand. “I can handle it. I’ll make Aron go to war with someone or other. She’s Cyclopae, right? She’s bound to love war.”
“True. Well, let me know if you need me to have their threads tweaked.” Her eyes gleam with anticipation.
“Let’s not make it too obvious just yet,” I say. “If Markos knows we’re matchmaking from the Aether he’s bound to get stubborn.” Both Yulenna and I have decided that Kerren and Markos are our projects. They’re both great guys and honorable, and it’s time they met some equally awesome women. We’ve been eyeing a really fierce, badass Cyclopae chick for Markos, but I think Kerren needs someone sweeter, because he’s shy. A warrior woman would eat him alive.
Then again, maybe that’s what Kerren needs. We’ll figure it out.
“That wasn’t why I was calling, though,” I say, even as I make a mental note to put a bug in my Aron’s ear about setting up some skirmishes on the Yshremi border that will allow a Holy Warrior of the Cleaver to hang out with a lady barbarian. “I was going to ask about the other thing.”
“Calling?” She tilts her head, curious.
“Uh, web-calling?” I gesture at the magic spiderweb that we communicate through. The gods are able to see each other from afar through the webs, and I have enough control after hours of practice to snoop on some mortal places. “It’s a telephone sort of thing. Long story.”
“I see. From your old home?”
I nod. Funny, I haven’t thought to look and see if I can view the Earth web. It’s another part of my life that’s dead to me, in a sense. I don’t need Chicago, or pizza, or cars. That belonged to another Faith, another life. There, I was Faith Gordon, phone jockey at an insurance company.
Here, I’m Faith, eternal anchor and loyal companion to Aron of the Cleaver, Lord of Storms and the Butcher God of Battle. I know which one I’d rather be.
Yulenna’s dark eyes gleam and her mouth curls up in a smile. “I think you already know the answer to that.”
“Oh god. Do I?” I clutch my stomach. “I’m so nervous. You’re sure?”
“The threads don’t lie,” she tells me