looked around and felt like she needed... more.
More men. More orgasms. More everything.
It felt like a whole other entity took her over and drove her to want to find another hard cock to ride. Maybe nine or ten more. When she was in control again, the very idea of letting any other man touch her repulsed her with such ferocity, she felt sick.
She thought back to both those times when she'd claimed the land as hers, and was terrified that if the lions had come too close, that the part of her that was Fae might have lured them close enough to satisfy her sexual urges.
It was something she didn't know if she should or could confess to Uriah. There wasn't a single part of her rational mind that wanted anyone else but him. She loved him. Adored him, and would never want to see hurt in his eyes by telling him the truth.
It was a concern for another time, and something she knew she could talk to Astrid and Callie about later. Both of their families utilized sex magic for their everyday spell-works.
“Did you ever consider letting my mom keep both babies and bring all of us to fairy with you?” Ivy asked, forcing herself to focus. She could worry about her guilty conscience later.
Donnatar gave another bark of cold laughter. “No.”
“Why not? I can't imagine it was easy for you to raise a newborn baby on your own. Wouldn't it have made more sense to let our mother take care of us for you?”
“Hardly,” Donnatar spat. “I was after a child, not a consort. And yes, your mother was a powerful witch by conventional standards, but not nearly enough to be of any real use to me. I got a wet nurse for the boy, here, and began his training when he was old enough to understand his duties.”
Selfish, selfish prick! Ugh! Ivy quickly filled her mouth with another ice cube to keep from speaking too quickly. “When did you realize Mom had stashed me at Haggara?”
“What a horrid but apropos name for a school devoted to witchcraft.” Her father shuddered in disgust. “I did not know the location until recently. In that respect, your mother was very smart in choosing her hiding place.”
“Where did the information come from?”
Her father sighed impatiently. “A coven of witches called the Silver Wives.”
“I've never been affiliated with that coven; why go to them?”
He leaned back in his seat and again pressed his fingertips together, regarding her over the tops with something akin to approval in his gaze.
“I was told they were the most powerful coven on this continent. That with their blood magic, they were capable of providing any service I could dream of. A locater spell was advertised as the easiest thing in the world.
“Your brother had failed in his mission to locate you, and time is growing short. So, I paid the Silver Wives a large sum of gold to get the job done. They failed to locate you specifically, only where you'd been last. That damn school.”
“Did you take part in massacring the Silver Wives, or just order the job done?”
“I gave orders to eradicate that nest of vipers when they attempted to use their collective tongues to siphon off my power like a plague of leeches. Fools!” Donnatar thundered, fire flashing in his eyes, the flowers crowning his chair withering to husks.
“And Headmistress Henriette Le Doux? Did you order your minions to kill her, too?”
Donnatar gave a reproachful click of his tongue, completely remorseless. “Oh, no. That kill is mine to claim. I sent your brother in there to make a generous offer to that witch, and he came back with his tail between his legs and her infuriating refusal to even comment on your whereabouts. Once again, he failed me.”
Ilex sat there, for all the world seemingly unaffected by the darkness of their father's tone, peeling the last bit of skin from his third peach to enjoy the sweeter flesh beneath.
“Luckily for me, there was a sweet, ripe young thing out harvesting mushrooms in the woods. It was easy enough to seduce her into inviting me past the gates. My chat with the harridan who ran that school was as productive as your brother's, and I forgave him for his failure after realizing what a formidable shrew she was.”
A quiver of grief went through Ivy. True, she hadn't held any tender feelings for the Headmistress, especially after her post-death letter. But then, Ivy read her mother's