Ecstatic (Arcane Mage Series Book 5)

by T. S. Snow

  The ball had been in his court, and the only person who could make a move forward right now was him.

  It was just that waiting fucking sucked.

  Blaze cleared his throat, and I locked eyes with him.

  This was it.

  Now or never.

  Please pick me.

  “Char, I… Goddess, this is hard.” Blaze put a hand on the back of his neck, rubbing the spot there as if to alleviate tension. “I have no idea how the hell to say this. I know I should probably do something romantic, and I promise I’ll make it up to you in the near future, but the hell of the past twenty-four hours made me realize that I’d rather have a part of you than not have you at all. I know… I know you’ve offered before and I said no. I honestly don’t know if you even still want me or not.” He stopped to look at me, as if trying to find out whether or not he had a chance based on whatever he saw on my face. Except I was probably no help because I was still trying to just…process his words.

  “You did say you were falling for me,” Blaze said, almost like an accusation. He just needed the narrowed eyes and the scowl, and he would have me intimidated in no time. “So I can’t have completely ruined all my chances, right?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, then closed it again.

  I…had told him I was falling for him, or maybe that I thought I was falling for him. I couldn’t really remember my exact wording. He had bruised my heart and my ego a bit when he’d turned me down.

  But this wasn’t just about me now.

  Loving each other didn’t just magically fix everything.

  “You understand I won’t belong to just you, right? That Bast, Andres, and I are a package deal?” I asked.

  “Except not really that kind of package. I’m opposed to crossing swords with the two of them,” Andres protested from behind me.

  I snorted and turned to look at him, just in time to watch Bast toss a throw pillow at him.

  “Yeah. What he said. I didn’t mean to imply you had to sleep with them too. I just meant…” I trailed off.

  I didn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t be completely awkward or that didn’t make me sound like an incredibly selfish, greedy bitch.

  But I was greedy and I was selfish, and I had zero regrets when it came to this.

  I’d do my very best to keep things fair and even between all the guys as much as I could, but I knew they could probably do a lot better. Well, maybe not better, but at least not have to share the same woman.

  I was pretty amazing, if I did say so myself.

  “I know what you meant, Little Spitfire.”

  Oh, oh. Blaze was back with the nicknames. This was happening.

  There were so many things going on in my stomach, I was pretty sure there was a nest of wasps inside of me.

  Super appealing mental picture, but what can a girl do?

  “Well?” I asked, as if Blaze was to blame for the fact my body was going crazy on me.

  He grimaced. “I can’t promise that we won’t have our differences and that I won’t sometimes struggle with the idea, but if it’s with you, if it’s for you, I’m willing to give it a try… If you guys will have me.”

  I was smiling before he’d even finished speaking, already nodding, my head bopping up and down like one of those bobblehead figurines.

  “I guess that’s a yes,” Andres chimed in before Blaze walked up to me, pulled me against his body, and kissed me stupid.

  Unlike the kiss at the warehouse, this time, Blaze’s kiss was gentle, coaxing. It was like he was trying to get to know me all over again. He kissed me with the curiosity of a stranger and the confidence of a lover.

  And I felt whatever reservations I might’ve had, whatever insecurities, leaving me as I kissed him right back.

  Blaze had given me no guarantees, but he’d agreed to try. That was more than I thought he’d ever be willing to do.

  For now, that was more than enough.

  18

  Blaze

  After fucking Andres interrupted our kiss—by running into us and hugging the two of us while yelling “brother-husband!”—we’d all settled down in Bastille’s living room.

  Andres and I had sat on the couch, with Andres trying to convince Char to sit on his lap. After a heated debate, she’d settled on the arm of the couch by his side, probably just so Andres wouldn’t get his way. Bastille sat on a high-back chair by himself. The coffee table in front of us was a mess of dirty, half empty food plates and all kinds of finger food. Clearly, I’d interrupted a party of sorts.

  But what bothered me most of all was the awkward tension in the air, which I was pretty sure was my fault. However, I had no idea how to break it.

  “So, uh… In the spirit of full disclosure,” Char began, worrying her hands and biting her lower lip as she sat perched on the arm of the couch.

  Charisma’s words had me turning my head towards her, thankful as fuck for her attempt to break the ice, even if her words filled me with dread.

  Whatever she was about to say could not be good news.

  I braced myself, not daring to breathe.

  “Basically, uh… There’s a teeny tiny thing you should probably know about before you fully…uh…commit to this. And I’m going to need you to listen and not freak out, okay? Please don’t freak out.” The more she asked me not to, the more I felt like I was on the verge of doing exactly that. “You see, err… You know Bast, right? I’ve mentioned him before. His name is Bastille and he is, uh… Well, he is…” Char trailed off and looked at Bastille, asking for permission, or maybe for the right words.

  Bast just smiled. “He knows, my love.”

  Char’s eyes widened, and she jerked her head from Bastille, to me, then to Bastille again.

  “He knows?” she squeaked out. “You know? How? When? Where? How?” Her questions came one after the other, not really giving any of us enough time to answer.

  It was my turn to look at Bastille, silently asking if I could tell her exactly how I knew. He nodded.

  “When you were taken, Andres and Bastille suggested we all work together to find you. Bastille and his grandmother were going to try some kind of spell, and Andres thought it would be better for them to tell me the truth rather than risk me finding out mid-casting and be responsible for some sort of…accident.”

  Honestly, if I hadn’t been told and been shown instead, I might’ve ended up acting first and asking questions later, which would have made an even bigger mess.

  As it stood, I was trying my damnedest to pretend I wasn’t currently chilling in a Necromancer’s house like it was no big deal. A Tumba, no less.

  I’d thought all the people in the Tumba line had been killed after Augusto Tumba was taken down. The Council of Six had purged the bloodline in an attempt to prevent any act of revenge from the family members. It had been an extremely brutal punishment, even for the time, but it had worked…or so everyone thought.

  “And you’re okay with this?” Char whispered the million-dollar question, leaning forward on her seat as if she needed to know the answer more than anything else.

  How the fuck was I supposed to answer that? There was no easy way. Char made it seem so incredibly simple, but it wasn’t. For decades, we’d been sending people out to fight the Necromancers. We’d all been trained on the best ways to do it, taught how evil they were and how depraved their lifestyle was. Fuck, the whole Academy was there to train mages so they could go fight in what everyone believed was an ancient war to keep our city from being overcome by an army of the undead.

  And yet…

  And yet there was a Necromancer here, in my city, dating the woman I loved. A Tumba.

  It made me wonder just how many more Necromancers lived here, and also what the fuck was going on at our borders. I supposed I could always just ask, but I wasn’t entirely sure I was ready for the answers, either.

  Like I said, complicated.

  Char’s earnest eyes were locked on mine, and I sighed.
>
  “I…I don’t know, Char, but I’m trying, okay? It’s just…” I rubbed a hand on my face, trying to choose the right words.

  Charisma’s hand on my hair had me tilting my head to find her standing in front of me. I straightened on the couch, and she took the opportunity to perch sideways on my lap so she could still face me, but also the room.

  “It’s okay. I was shocked too, you know? And then I asked Bast all kinds of questions. Did you know vampires and shifters aren’t real? That was just some bullshit someone came up with way back when. It’s such a bummer, because I really wanted to find a dragon shifter and, like, ask them all sorts of questions.” Char seemed to catch herself mid ramble, because she physically stopped moving, blinked a few times, shook her head, and then continued petting my hair. “My point is…it’s okay to be unsure about it. I’m sure if you have questions, you could just ask us, or ask Bast. He’ll answer as many as you want to. Even Andres could help, considering he’s known about all this for quite some time.” Char sent Andres a look that said she hadn’t forgiven him from keeping things a secret from her.

  Andres just smiled sheepishly at her, shrugging. “Not like our society is ready to know I’ve adopted Necromancers into my extended family without that bringing down their wrath on all Illuderes.”

  “Oh, because you didn’t almost piss yourself in fear the first time Blair introduced us, right?” Bastille teased, making Andres blush.

  “Oh, c’mon. I was fourteen and had just found out I had a sister—a sister who’d been raised by Necromancers. What did you expect? Have you not met Blair? She’s fucking terrifying when she wants to be.”

  Everyone laughed at that. Andres had a point—Blair was terrifying when she wanted to be, and as someone who had undertaken her training, she was a fucking savage to boot.

  At AMIA, Blair was known among the trainees as the Mistress of Pain because every training session with her only ended up in agony. Unfortunately, there was never any pleasure to go along with the pain, either.

  The worst part was that she knew about the nickname and took pride in it.

  So yeah, I could understand why Andres had been scared. I probably would have been the same, in his shoes. Not that I’d ever admit it.

  “Poor baby, afraid of the big, scary boogeyman,” Char teased before laying her head on my shoulder and snuggling to get more comfortable.

  This was nice, the easy affection, the bickering. It was like…being surrounded by the good kind of family.

  “All joking aside. If there’s anything I can do to make this easier for you or any questions you want to ask me, whether now or in the future, just let me know. Communication is key for any relationship, but it’s even more important in poly relationships, both when it comes to communicating with our Char and with each other. It’s the only way we’ll be able to make this relationship work without there being drama or hurt feelings.” Bastille looked at me while he made the offer, but his eyes settled on both Andres and Char when he talked about the importance of communication, and they both nodded in agreement. “This is new to all of us, especially you guys, since you didn’t grow up with this structure like I did, so some misunderstanding and stuff is bound to happen. I think, so long as we’re honest and talk about what we’re feeling and what our needs are, we should be okay.”

  “You grew up with it?” I asked. Char had mentioned something like that earlier, but I had been more focused on the other information she’d given me, rather than Bastille’s family situation.

  “His parents were poly. His mom had three husbands. Apparently, it’s common for Necromancers,” Char answered, her head still resting on my shoulder.

  I tilted my head to look at her, noticing how her eyes were half closed and she looked half asleep.

  Clearly, there was a hell of a lot I needed to learn about Bastille and Necromancers in general. However, if he’d grown up with multiple fathers, that explained why he wanted to share Char…at least to some extent. Not that I was complaining. I mean, the fact he was willing to share was the whole reason I got to have her in my lap right now.

  “Okay,” I said at last, hugging Char tighter against me. “I’ll do my best, but I have to think things through first before I ask anything.” Otherwise, my questions would be a jumbled mess.

  The room became silent after my statement, and after a while, Andres grabbed the controller and started playing some video game where he was an archer fighting robot monsters.

  I looked down at Char snuggled against me while she watched Andres playing through half-lidded eyes, and smiled. I was determined to make this thing with Char work, but I knew things wouldn’t be so easy. Apart from the threat that Bastille represented, or rather, the threat people thought he was, I still had to deal with my family.

  Just thinking about my brother finding out about this arrangement made me want to wince. While my parents probably wouldn’t give a shit either way, so long as I produced an heir, I was pretty fucking sure my brother would try to make some kind of play to use Char or the whole poly relationship thing against me. I had to find a way to prevent him before he could. Ideally, I should just challenge him in an official duel and be done with it, but if there was one thing my parents had always insisted on, it was to show unity. At least, to the outside world, that was. So a duel was out, but I had to find some other way to keep him from bothering Char or the others.

  “She asleep?” Bastille’s question brought me back to the present.

  Char’s mouth was hanging slightly open, her eyes closed, and she was breathing evenly in and out. One of her hands clung to my shirt, as if she didn’t want me to leave even while she slept.

  Turning to Bastille, I nodded. “Yeah, just about.”

  He got up from the couch, walking towards me. “She must be exhausted, but she refused to go straight to sleep. Here, let me take her to the bedroom, and then we can talk.”

  I was reluctant to give her up. I knew I’d just agreed to the whole sharing thing, but damn. I hadn’t expected to just hand Char over to one of her other boyfriends to put her to bed.

  Bastille must have realized my struggle, because he smiled kindly at me. “Why don’t you put her to bed, then? Can you stand with her on your lap, or should I give you a hand?”

  It took some maneuvering, but I managed to get up with Char in my arms without dropping her or falling. I was the first to admit my accomplishment had more to do with pride than anything else, but it worked, so whatever.

  Bastille led the way to the bedroom, and I followed, carrying Char bride-style.

  He turned the lights on as I headed to the bed and gently put her down. I struggled to get her to let go of my shirt, but I finally managed to, even if Char did grumble angrily in her sleep before turning to hug the pillow beside her.

  I wanted to lean down and kiss her goodnight, but I was afraid of waking her. Granted, most of the time, Char slept like a rock, and more than once, I’d had fun trying to wake her up, but I wasn’t so selfish that I would keep her from resting when she desperately needed it.

  There will be time in the future for that, I reminded myself. Plenty of time. I just had to not fuck this up with her again.

  I hovered near the bed as Bastille grabbed a blanket and covered Char, being careful not to disturb her.

  He shouldn’t have worried, since Char didn’t move an inch. Pretty sure a whole marching band could’ve come in here and had a party, and the worst she’d have done was grumble in her sleep and turn the other way.

  Bastille caught my eye and nodded towards the door.

  I gave one last, longing look to the empty space beside Charisma and then followed him out. I guessed it was time to face the music.

  19

  Bastille

  The minute we were out of earshot from Char and I was sure there was no way in hell we would wake her up, I began.

  “Listen, I meant what I said before. I wasn’t just putting on a face for Char. I was the one who encouraged her to consider h
aving a harem of her own, and—”

  “Why did you?” Blaze’s question cut me off before I could continue, and I sighed.

  Blaze stood with his back to the door of the bedroom, arms crossed in front of him. He had more tattoos than I did, but while most of mine were merely decorative, I knew his tattoos enhanced his power, even if I wasn’t exactly sure how the whole thing worked. It wasn’t like any Arcane family cared to share their secrets with Necromancers. Just like there was very little they actually knew about me.

  “Why did I encourage Char to have a harem? Oh, there are so many reasons.” Too many to count. “I could say it was because of how I was raised, it’s what I know. Maybe because I saw how having multiple partners helped my mother, made things easier for her. Each of my mother’s husbands gave her something different, something only they could give her. Together, they made an amazing group.” I smiled sadly. I remembered those times, before she died. Our house had always been filled with laughter. The way my mother told me the story, my fathers didn’t all get along very well at first, but by the time I was born, they were thick as thieves. But that wasn’t the whole reason I wanted Char to have other men.

  “I could also say that part of me feels the need to share Char because I know that my mere existence puts her at risk. I’m a liability. Loving me, being loved by me…it’s incredibly dangerous.” My smile dropped. “Think about it—if just my name makes grown men wet themselves, imagine what your society would do to her, knowing Char is with me. I guess…in a way…I want Char to have people who love her and will be there for her if anything happens to me. Not as a backup, but just…to be there too, you know? I want her to have strong men who will be able to protect her, to keep her safe.”

  I stopped speaking and looked in the direction of the bedroom, where Char slept. She was everything I’d always wanted and more. Just knowing she was in the other room, unharmed, made me so incredibly happy.

  “The truth is, it would probably be better for her, and safer, if I gave her up, but she accepted me for who I am, or in spite of who I am. I’m not going to betray that trust, and I’m not going to give her up. So if by sharing her, I can make sure she’ll have anything and everything, even things I would never be able to give her, then that’s what I’ll do and I’ll do it gladly.”