A Little Green Magic (The Little Coven #1) - Isabel Wroth Page 0,77
shouted, “STOP!”
It was so loud it echoed across the entire meadow, like a soccer stadium announcement, shooting the birds from the trees and sending little animals scurrying from the brush. Uriah and the lions all whipped around to face the owner of the voice.
The girls had given him a rundown on what to expect when facing a god of the forest, but the thing Uriah watched come out of the tress was... completely unexpected.
He was a beast of a man in every sense. Practically a giant, he had to duck from beneath the branches in order to give the grand rack of antlers sprouting from his head room to move. He had the ears of a stag and the inhumanly handsome face of a Fae, his hair and beard shining waves of chestnut.
Blue tattoos covered him from one wrist to the other, human from the waist up. From the waist down, the forest god had the body of a goat. Thick black fur covered powerful thighs, and the cloven hooves he walked on were painted gold.
A wide leather belt with a gold disk etched with magical symbols sat on his hips and held a swath of leather over his groin. Something Uriah was glad for, as he wasn't keen on getting to know that aspect of his mate's father.
Uriah saw none of Ivy in the creature's face, and having used his hands and mouth on every inch of her, Uriah could confirm Ivy had nothing in common with her sire. Ivy's eyes were green as emeralds; the forest god's were as gold as the paint on his hooves.
“Stop this now!” the forest god roared, fury plain in every word, expecting to be obeyed even as he hurried across the field with the twelve points of his horns tilted their way.
None of the women seemed particularly worried or threatened, confidence pouring from them even though he knew it was a shock for Ivy to see the being who fathered her for the first time. Her chin was up, the wind whipped through her long blonde hair, a look of boredom and disdain on her face.
Fierce. Proud. Beautiful.
His bear gave a deeply satisfied grumble. That's mine.
“We'll be with you in a moment, Dad. Please finish, Callie,” Ivy instructed coolly, shaking her wrist to jangle the bracelets.
Clearly unused to being dismissed by anyone, the forest god stomped himself right up to the edge of the barrier of iron filings, snarling when he realized he could come no closer than two hundred feet.
“You will not bind your magic. I forbid it!” shouted dear ole' dad. His voice was thick and lyrical, his accent not quite Scottish, not quite Irish, but something in between.
Ivy flat out laughed, nodding to Callie when her sister witch set the metal clasp of the last bracelet. “It's already done, and before you open your mouth to threaten my coven with murder to unbind it, I should tell you that I've bound my magic to myself. You'll have to kill me to release it, which I rather think defeats the purpose of this visit.”
During her sassy little speech—which frankly made Uriah harder than a rock—Ivy's gaze seemed to be all over the place. Looking everywhere but at her father.
“Is my brother hiding back there because you told him not to wreck your entrance, or because he's afraid to come out and be seen?”
Her father didn't seem to quite know what to do with Ivy, but he raised his hand and gave a wave of his fingers. Moments later, a tall male with wide shoulders, a narrow waist, and the grace of a dancer came striding out across the meadow.
His steps were so light, he might as well have been walking on air. The grass didn't even bend beneath his feet, and Uriah wondered if all Fae were capable of taking such careful steps. It would explain why there hadn't been a single footprint to follow in the woods.
It was obvious Ivy struggled to keep her composure when her brother pushed back his hood and faced her with a regal nod. The man's face was blank of emotion, though his eyes were a turbulent sea of green. Uriah could definitely see the resemblance between the siblings, especially in the face.
“Greetings, sister,” Ilex said with a formal half-bow.
Ivy smiled at him, her lips giving the tiniest of wobbles. “Hello.”
Clearly not one to waste time on niceties, their father cut in harshly, “Why have you once again bound your magic?”