The Magic Queen

by Jovee Winters

  “Do you have friends, Baba?” he asked seriously, seriously enough that her natural inclination to brush him off and laugh vanished.

  Instead, she answered as seriously as he’d asked. “A few. My familiar, Balthazar.”

  His lips twitched. “You would have a snake as a friend.”

  She stuck out her tongue but smiled because that hadn’t seemed like a put-down. “I’ve also got my faithful servants. Black, Red, and White.”

  He sat straight up, eyes going wide as he breathed, “The horsemen?”

  That’s what she liked about Freyr: he knew without her even needing to clarify anything. “Yes, the horsemen of the apocalypse. They are my sister and brothers.”

  He scrubbed fingers across his lightly stubbled jaw, and even hideous as he was, her heart trembled at how easy everything felt between them.

  “So you know Death?”

  She grinned. “I’m intimately familiar with him. He too is my brother. We were all born of the spirits.”

  A soft look crossed his face, and she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

  “You’re amazing, Baba Yaga.”

  Nibbling on her lip and feeling as though she might combust from the pleasure of his compliment, she didn’t know what to say. She reached for something random instead.

  “Did you hear what Fiera said today?”

  His eyes sobered. “That someone died, yes.”

  She sighed deeply. What would she do if she lost Freyr? He was a god and very difficult to kill. But not impossible. Freyr had told her once that Themis, Aphrodite, and Calypso were smart. And they were. So what were they thinking by allowing the games to take a turn for the savage? Baba put herself in their shoes, trying to think as they would. Why would they really allow the queens to kill? Especially when Themis had said no killing...

  And then the light bulb turned on. This was a game and not just a game of pitting combatant against combatant. This was a chess match to the goddesses, a game of moves and countermoves. What if no one had really died? What if they only wanted them to believe it was true? Wouldn’t that add a sense of urgency to the games for everyone else? And though a thread of fear still wormed its way through her stomach, Baba decided to believe that all wasn’t quite what it seemed.

  She flicked a glance at Freyr, and her heart trembled. On the off chance that death had been real, Baba was going to do everything she could to protect him.

  “I’m off to bed. I’m exhausted.”

  Sighing loudly, he nodded before gingerly making his way to his feet. His gait was cumbersome as he waddled toward her, loosely hanging onto his side where he’d been hit with the fiery bolt. She’d used a healing spell on him earlier too. She grinned crookedly. Unlike her, he could return to his beautiful form whenever he wanted. That he kept himself this way made her feel stupidly happy.

  Crawling into their tent wasn’t easy. Her bones creaked and groaned, and his wide girth took up most of the room inside. They’d still managed to wrap themselves around each other somehow. But a layer of his fat pressed down on her hip, turning it numb.

  “Scoot over, tubby.” She swatted at him.

  Laughing, he said, “I can’t. I’m enormous. Deal with it. Just like I have to deal with a face that would kill Death all over again.”

  Pressing her face into his chest, she rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. His fingers played along her withered shoulder blade, and she was lulled into that gray zone between awake and asleep, absolutely content for the first time in forever when she softly heard him say, “I never did thank you for saving me today. Witch, you are a true badass, and it’s been a pleasure getting to know you.”

  She didn’t think it would be possible to fall asleep after that, but somehow, she did.

  ~*~

  Freyr

  He was going to do it. They’d lain side by side all night, and he’d finally accepted the reality of what was happening to him. True, she was hideous in this form. But that desiccated shell was merely a mask because beneath that form was the woman who drove him mad. She made him crazy with more than lust. He liked her. No, it was more than that. He was falling madly in love with his witch. And there was only one way to prove it to her.

  He was going to kiss her and not as his morbidly obese self, but as the ravishing god no woman could resist. He was going to kiss those shriveled up lips and let her know she was it for him. Transforming into his more natural form, he breathed a sigh of relief and then rolled over, ready to take the plunge when his eyes widened, and he let out a yelp of startled surprise, rousing her instantly.

  “Freyr? What is it?” She blinked the sleep from her eyes, looking all adorable and confused.

  “You’re not ugly anymore!” He squeezed her tight, sliding his leg between hers and rocking his hips so that she could feel the raging hard-on he sported and had been sporting even before he’d realized she’d changed.

  Her lips wobbled, and she briefly glanced down at herself. “Huh. Will you look at that? Great. Now let’s please go back to sleep, you silly moron.”

  He shook his head, determined more than ever to kiss her. But not now. He’d sort of ruined the moment by waking her up. He was going to consume this woman, but she was wearing a look of adorable irritation, and he knew it was probably better to let the little minx get her rest before he found himself missing one of his family jewels.

  Leaning over her, his lips brushed the shell of her ear as he whispered hotly, “You called me Freyr.”

  Moss green eyes held him enraptured as her mouth curved into a tiny “o” of shock.

  He smirked. “I’m wearing you down, love. It’s only a matter of time before you beg for it.” He bumped her with his cock again, delighting in the slow spread of pink that traveled up her creamy swan’s neck.

  Her eyes turned soft, and her body yielded beneath his completely. If he really wanted to, he knew he could take her now. Not just yet. The idea of making this powerful, sexy woman beg for it had him weak in the knees.

  “Never.” Her word was a husky drawl that sent shivers up his spine.

  Pressing a tender kiss to the corner of her mouth, until his lips tingled, he murmured, “If you say so, female.”

  Then rolling over, he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. His smile grew wide as he heard her toss and turn for the next several hours.

  ~*~

  Aphrodite

  “You turned her into the crone!” Themis squealed, balling her fists at her sides and giving Calypso a long-suffering sigh. “Why?”

  But Calypso only smiled and pointed back to the screen. “Two reasons. One, everyone knows I take care of my family. And two, it worked, didn’t it?” She smiled sweetly.

  Themis shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Yes, but you didn’t know it would.”

  Aphrodite held up her finger. “Oh, actually, she totally did. C’mon, Justice, you know she was right. If Freyr can admit that he loves her when she looks like that, then it’s gotta be true love.”

  Themis, who Dite thought might someday grow exhausted by their antics and decide to no longer be their friend, finally gave a soft giggle. “You guys don’t make it easy on me, do you?”

  Both Caly and Aphrodite tossed an arm across her shoulder and squeezed.

  “Yeah, but you love us?” Calypso nodded.

  “Grr.” Themis growled.

  And Aphrodite chose to believe that was a yes.

  When she and Caly had gone to Freyr, Aphrodite had been following nothing more than a deep-seated instinct. Icharus, upon first meeting him, had hit all the right notes for Baba’s future mate: blond hair, blue eyes, kind of disposition. But always, there’d been a soft thread of misgiving there too.

  She and Caly had teased that poor Ich wouldn’t know what hit him with the witch, but the truth was Baba hadn’t needed kindness. She’d needed fire. She’d needed Freyr.

  Though Freyr had been a last-minute addition to the games, Aphrodite knew that Love had found its true mark this time. Ba
ba and Freyr were a fated match.

  Freyr already knew it. And Baba was almost there.

  She’d never tell Caly this, but of all the couples they’d matched up, Freyr and Baba were definitely becoming her new favorite.

  Chapter 10

  Baba Yaga

  Baba kicked out her feet lazily, watching as the water rippled prettily in the noonday sun. Freyr had risen not too long after her, saying he meant to search this deserted land once more for food. She knew he’d find nothing, but she’d let him leave anyway. Something had told her he’d wanted the space and some time to think. She had too.

  Squinting as she stared at the cloudless sky with nary a bird winging through it, she realized something rather startling. This place was horrid, the food was foul, her bed garbage, and still, she was content

  Here in this place she didn’t have to be Baba Yaga, the witch who’d eat your children if they acted up. The witch who, with a look, could send you straight to the Underworld, never to be seen again. The witch whose voice alone could render one senseless. In this place, she was simply Baba, a woman who laughed and smiled and couldn’t believe that she could do so.

  Not that she was opposed to laughter or gaiety. There’d simply never been much to be gay about in her life. Always, she was on one mission or another or hearing petitions from those brave enough to approach her shrieking shack and ask the witch’s advice.

  Freyr did not fear her. At no point had he feared her. True, he was a god and likely not in the business of fearing much. But much of her reputation had truly been earned. Baba never felt much in the way of remorse when it came to handling her business without sentiment muddying the waters. She’d killed. She’d feasted on the bones of her enemies—though never a child’s. She practiced the black arts and danced nude beneath the light of a full moon, chanting to the darkness that lived and breathed in the beyond.

  She’d done it all and felt not a prickle of remorse for any of it. She still didn’t, honestly.

  But Freyr seemed okay with that. Baba had come against gods in her past. As long-lived as she was, of course she’d gone toe to toe with a few. The fact that she still stood and breathed said something about the mettle of her character. She wasn’t a creature to be trifled with.

  And yet that blasted Freyr made her feel as though she were as dangerous as a bunny rabbit. Her lips twitched as she thought about that tempting, infuriatingly sexy male. She sighed as her three trusted servants—bodiless arms and hands—massaged the shampoo thoroughly into her hair, giving her an amazing scalp massage while they were at it.

  In this strange place, Baba had found her bliss. Perhaps even Balthazar would like it. It would be a simple enough thing to bring her house here, her books, and a few seeds to cultivate the ground. She could make this work, craft a home away from home where she could escape to when the office of Baba Yaga became too overwhelming.

  She sensed the presence of another disturbing the peace of her bath. Knowing it could only be one person, she opened her eyes and grinned as Freyr paddled her way. His movements were strong and sure, his body that beautifully golden tan she’d recently grown to love. That silvery-blond hair was plastered to the sides of his thick, strong neck and her heart pitter-pattered.

  “Ah, moron, you’ve come,” she said sweetly, then giggled—Would wonders never cease?—when he splashed her with a bit of water.

  Flicking it off her cheek, she rolled off her back and stuck her feet down, treading water and waiting for him to reach her side.

  His gaze landed on her hair, and his brows rose. “I see you’ve found company after all. Perhaps I should leave you to it, then.” He winked.

  She patted her hair, only just remembering her friends.

  “Oh...” She laughed and, one by one, took them by hand, plopping them into the water to tread with their fingers as she was. “These are my soul-friends. Pay them no mind. They’re merely servants who do my biding.” Giving him a tight smile, she vanished the hands, returning them back to the realm of Kingdom.

  Reaching out, he slid his warm hands around her waist and dragged her into him, his voice growing throaty and deep as he said, “You make some very interesting friends, love.”

  Pulse rocketing through her chest, she tried to pretend his touch didn’t currently make her entire body quiver and laughed shakily. “Well, they’re friends now. They weren’t when they still belonged to their bodies.”

  His ice-blue eyes shimmered. “I do like you, woman.”

  Feeling like a giddy schoolgirl, she swallowed hard, wetting her lips. “Does that not terrify you? When I say things like that?”

  He snorted, and his fingers began a slow tickling trail along the soft swell of her lower belly. Butterflies with wings tipped in steel danced a jig inside of her.

  “You forget who I am.”

  “A fertility god. I’ve not forgotten.”

  Straight white teeth flashed as he grinned broadly. “Woman, you know what I mean. I’m a Viking, Baba. Fertility god or not, we’re a rather cutthroat cast of characters. Blood. Murder. Death, it’s like ambrosia to us.”

  Planting her hands on his shoulders, she moved her lower body closer to his, feeling the hard, velvety steel of him rub along her inner thigh. She sighed, delighted that his nudity hadn’t ended at the waist. The man had come with seduction in mind, and she had no desire to stop him. Wrapping her legs around his waist so that her aching center rested at the tip of him, she smirked as his eyes widened and his fingers dug sharply into her hipbones.

  “So if I told you,” she said in a heated whisper as she trekked one finger along the hard planes of his muscled back, “that I liked it—”

  “I would say, so do I.”

  A low, throaty growl broke from his lips, and his chest rose and fell. His pupils dilated to twice their size, and his callused palm covered her left breast as he squeezed her. She sucked in a sharp breath as heat, fire, and need tore her up from the inside

  Baba had left her spells back at their tent. Otherwise, she might have crafted a tree with a large base for them to sit on so that they could get on with their seduction of one another. Neither of their feet touched bottom here. There’d be no way for them to gain the necessary leverage they’d need to bear down on one another.

  Freyr’s lips curled as though he knew exactly where her thoughts had led her. And she knew without asking that though he’d not read her thoughts, he’d read her intentions clear enough, and his response would have been, Have you forgotten who I am?

  She shook her head. “I have not forgotten.”

  “Good girl,” he said in a heated whisper.

  The waters began to reshape themselves. And she wasn’t doing it. This magick was his alone. The water became denser in spots so that it almost felt firm like a mattress. He was sitting, and her knees were spread wide over him, supported just fine. It was her turn to smirk.

  “What’s that smile for?” he asked and then began to nuzzle the corner of her jaw, making her break out in a wash of lusty need.

  “Can you make anything, Freyr?”

  “For sex? Yes.”

  Her thoughts ran in a million different directions. While Baba was no goddess, she was far more than merely human. Maybe it was time to show the sex god that he didn’t know all there was to know about bed sport. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she drew up her knees and looked him deep in the eyes. “Do you trust me?”

  His eyes narrowed into thin slits as he cocked his head, wearing a look of confusion and intrigue. His fingers, which hadn’t let up in clenching her, now dug in deep enough to bruise, making her hiss. But she liked it. She’d always liked a little bit of pain with her pleasure. Finally, she read the surrender on his face.

  “Yes, witch. Damn my dark heart to the deepest pits of hell, but I do.”

  “Good. Then secure your wrists to this bed with your arse face up, and do not move.”

  “What?” He chuckled and she shook her head as he tried to reach behind her head for a
kiss.

  Curious as he was, she knew he’d do it. Giving her one final look of disbelief, he did as she asked, securing himself with water bindings that held his arms above his head. His gorgeous arse and back flexed as he turned to glance at her over his shoulder.

  “Going to stick a dildo up my bum? Because I’ll tell you now, woman, I’ve done it before.”

  She snorted then swatted his steely glutes. He groaned, dropped his forehead on his arms, and moaned loudly.

  “I’ve no doubt you’re adventurous, Frey-Frey. But you’ll not get another word out of me.”

  Delighted to see him trussed up, Baba leaned back on her hands, fascinated by the play of light and shadow on his smooth, rippled flesh. Biting her lower lip, she shivered. She’d not had sex in ages. Hadn’t even missed it. Now though...she dove at him with enthusiasm, lifting his hips and spreading his thighs before wiggling underneath him so that her center and his aligned, and her feet were on either side of his face.

  “Mm, saucy minx,” he said with a low growl, wiggling his hips so that his cock teased at her swollen lips.

  It was all she could do not to just shove his hips down so that his giant cock slid in deep. Not yet. Right now, all she wanted to do was tease him. So she rolled her hips, causing him to roll his in kind. The air between them tingled with the release of his sex magick, making every brush of skin on skin feel electric and ten times more erotic. She gasped when his cock slid in a little, but he just as quickly pulled it out, chuckling.

  “I had no idea,” he said as he looked at her over his shoulder, “that my little witch was quite so learned in the more obscure positions. The snow angel just happens to be a personal favorite of mine.”

  He dipped his cock in again, and this time she released a moan so loud and guttural that her breasts vibrated with it. Freyr’s swiveling hips picked up speed. Baba was so wet for him that she was more than ready to go.

  “I’ll make this real good for you, love.” He pushed in so deep that his balls pressed down on her clitoris.