by Amy Sumida
My thighs clenched and my sex tightened around the Wolf as Kirill began a gentle motion that pushed him ever deeper until he was fully encased. I cried out with the wondrous bliss of being filled by two men at once. My body trembled between them as Kirill set his mouth to my shoulder to bite and suck at me there while the Wolf went back to kissing me. Hands digging into flesh, cocks filling me completely, while tongues seared my skin and tangled with my own; I was in heaven.
The men sped up—they had to be the ones to set the pace in this position—and I groaned as my desire increased. That slick sensation of flesh sliding into me, the wet plunge of cocks in clenching passages, had me twitching uncontrollably. The Wolf rolled us again, putting Kirill on the bottom, and I screamed in ecstasy as the Wolf grabbed me by the hips and started slamming furiously into me. Kirill reached down and grabbed me by my knees, lifting my legs up and back toward the bed. My body opened like a flower to my husbands, and they were both able to delve deeper into my petals. I cried out again, but it was muffled by the Wolf's claiming kiss. He growled into my mouth and reached between us to violently rub my clit. The taste of Trevor on my tongue and the scent of aroused lion, wolf, and man in the air added to the gathering pleasure and sent me over the edge.
The three of us came together in one, glorious, shaking, volcanic explosion.
After we shuddered into calm, they rolled me to the side so we could lay together and catch our breaths. The Wolf and Kirill were still inside me. I loved that feeling; trembling through the aftershocks of great sex while their shafts languidly slid out of me. It was deliciously naughty and made me want to do it all over again. But just as I started to reach for them, a knock came at one of the tower doors.
“Is it safe to come down?” Odin asked. “Lesya is with me.”
“Give us a minute to get to the dressing room,” I called back and then rolled and groaned my way out of bed.
“Okay,” Odin said.
All of the men had a key for the doors, it was only Lesya who couldn't get through on her own. This was turning out to be the perfect solution to prying, toddler eyes. As the Wolf, Kirill, and I closed the dressing room door, Odin opened the tower door and brought my daughter downstairs.
I used some baby wipes that I had stored in my vanity table to clean up and handed some to the men. They smiled smugly at each other as if coming was such a manly, awesome accomplishment. I'm surprised they didn't high-five for managing to knock me up. Yes, yes; you have supernatural sperm, good for you. I rolled my eyes and got dressed. They had slid on some clothes as well, and we were about to head out when the cloak I'd thrown over the mirror blew off in a gust of icy air. We froze and stared at the mirror in shock.
I wanted to run. Hell, I think even the Wolf wanted to run, but my stare was shackled to that reflective surface that was slowly becoming less reflective. A wintry forest came into view within the gilded frame and snowflakes flurried out with the breeze. Something was filling my body; a compulsion to move forward. I started to walk toward the mirror, and the Wolf grabbed me. His eyes were glowing, and he was growling. Kirill's snarl added to his as he took my other arm.
I turned a wide-eyed stare toward my husbands—first one and then the other—as I continued to move forward. They had a hold of me but they weren't holding me back. I had the sense that they were too busy trying to fight their own battle against the compulsion. Whatever had been affecting me had spread to them. We couldn't even speak; our throats worked against the urge to shout for help. Step-by-step we went forward together, and we moved through the mirror's frame—the glass completely gone—and into that cold forest as we clutched tightly at each other.
As soon as our feet crunched into the carpet of snow, the compulsion was gone, and we fell to our knees gasping. My whole body quaked with the relief that came from the vanishing spell; I hardly even noticed the snow melting; dampening my dress, and freezing hands and knees. And then I looked back over my shoulder and saw the gilded frame. It stood in the middle of a snowy field, its carvings dusted with snow. I could see my dressing room through it; the opening now covered by a pane of glass. Snowflakes hit the glass and melted.
I got to my feet with the help of my husbands, and we hurried back to the mirror. The Wolf touched the glass and found it solid.
“What the fuck is going on?” the Wolf growled.
Kirill just punched the barrier with his fist. A ringing like a struck gong echoed through the clearing and made us all clutch at our ears in agony. When it faded, we stared in horror at the doorway to our world which now seemed to be barred against us.
As we gaped in shock at the unbreakable glass, Odin came into the room carrying Lesya.
“Odin!” I shouted as I pressed up against the glass. “Odin!”
But he couldn't hear me. He looked around the room in confusion, never once even glancing at the mirror. I saw his mouth moving, probably calling our names, but it was Lesya who stared at the mirror, her eyes widening as if she could see me.
“Lesya!” I shouted and waved my arms at her. “Tell Uncle Odin!” I pointed at Odin.
Kirill joined me in pointing at Odin while Lesya just blinked at us. I don't know what she saw in the mirror, but I didn't think it was actually us. It was probably just her lioness senses warning her. Nonetheless, she finally smacked Odin and said something to him as she pointed at the mirror. Odin scowled and went to stand in front of us. We continued shouting and waving at him, but he couldn't see us. His beautiful, peacock-colored eyes shifted over our faces blindly as he regarded the mirror somberly. He grabbed the frame, shook it, and then stood back from it. He said something to Lesya, and she began to cry.
In my desperation, I reached for the Nine-Pointed Star inside me. It could do miraculous things when it wanted to. I could even direct it with my will. Unfortunately, I never knew when my will and its plans would coincide. I felt the star start to brighten in my chest, but before the light could shine through my body, it fizzled out and then disappeared entirely. Nope, helping me today didn't seem to be within the stars; or star, rather.
“Lesya!” I called to my sobbing daughter.
But Odin was already comforting her; bouncing her as he carried her out of the room. He looked back at the mirror, though, his face contorted with worry. He had seen us go into the dressing room; he knew something was very wrong.
“This is getting us nowhere,” I finally said as I turned away from the glass. “We're going to have to find another way out of here.”
I turned and surveyed the scene. It was icy cold but my body had automatically turned up my internal thermostat. I not only radiated enough heat to keep all of us warm, but I also melted the snow beneath our feet. Patches of dead grass showed through the puddles; looking perfectly normal. A light snow continued to fall over the silent forest, tiny flakes falling slower than rain. It was the only movement in the woods. I knew it was Winter but there still should have been some life out there. There was no bird song, no rustle of small creatures or cry of predators. It was deathly quiet. Even the wind had stopped.
“What is this; Narnia?” I asked in a hushed tone.
“The Lion, the Witch, and the Werewolf,” the Wolf said and then snorted a laugh.
“Zere had better not be any lampposts in zis forest,” Kirill growled. “I am not getting shorn on altar by giggling Imps.”
“Were they Imps?” the Wolf asked.
Kirill glared at Trevor.
“No one's touching your hair, baby,” I said aggressively. “It's not happening.”
Kirill's glare turned into a soft smile.
“I don't know about lampposts or fawns, but there's smoke,” I continued as I pointed at a thin line of smoke ribboning up over the skeletal tree branches.
“And we've already got the Witch with us so we should be fine,” the Wolf said. “Imps are her faeries, after all.”
“I love how much I've rubbed off on you guys.” I felt instantly better from the witty exchange. I might be trapped in a
mirror but at least I had two of my husbands with me, and we were still laughing.
“Da, ve love vay you rub too,” Kirill said with a smirk.
“Come on, my furry comedians.” I waved them forward. “Let's find out who made that fire. Hopefully, they'll know how to get the hell out of Narnia.”
“Where's a fucking wardrobe when you need one?” the Wolf muttered.
We started trudging through the snow; my heat turning it into slush. It made it easier to walk but also colder. My temperature wasn't hot enough to burn away the icy water before it hit our shoes—I might hurt my husbands if I raised it that high—and soon, our shoes were soaked. I was hoping the fire builder knew a way out and had some towels handy.
Chapter Five
We didn't have to go far. The trees opened up to a frozen lake that gleamed in the sunlight. A bridge arched to the center of the lake; leading to a fantastical palace of ivory stone that rose straight out of the water. A central, bulbous keep was attached to oval wings that sprouted to either side and behind it. Towers shot upward like spindles among them; topped with conical, spear tips. Starting at the central building, stone flowering vines twined outward and bound everything together. Their blossoms were large enough to be seen several hundred feet away. As we crossed the bridge, they grew larger until I realized that they were easily twice as tall as I was. Hundreds of them snaked around and up every tower, wall, and railing.
“Are those narcissus flowers?” I asked warily.
“I believe so,” Kirill said as he narrowed his eyes at the palace.
“This is really creeping me out,” I muttered.
“Because there's something wrong with this place,” the Wolf said.
No, Trevor wasn't back yet, and I was starting to think that was on purpose. He must have thought the Wolf was better equipped to handle this situation, and I agreed. We needed someone with good instincts.
“Da,” Kirill growled. “It smells wrong.”
I gave a good sniff with my dragon nose and then jerked to a halt. “It smells like flowers and feces. That is not a good mix.”
“Does the scent of shit mix well with anything?” the Wolf countered with a wry look.
“Fair enough.”
“Narcissus,” Kirill said. “Whiter narcissus have chemical called indole in zem; it's same chemical produced by E. coli. Yellow ones smell better.”
“So, snow, flowers, and shit,” the Wolf huffed. “Fantastic. This is a fucking nightmare.”
“It probably doesn't bother most people,” I noted as I started across the narrow courtyard that served as a landing point for the bridge. “It's just because we're shifters that we can pick up the nuances.”
“Most people aren't here,” the Wolf pointed out.
I rolled my eyes at him.
“No, I mean; there doesn't seem to be anyone here,” the Wolf corrected. “Someone should have seen us by now. But no one has come out to greet us or even tell us to go away.”
As if on cue, the main door to the palace—one of those with a curving top—swung open.
“I don't like zis,” Kirill murmured.
“I don't either, but I don't think we have much of a choice.” I glanced back at the forest. It surrounded the palace and its lake completely. There was only a thin ring of shoreline between the lake and the woods.
“Don't touch anything until we figure out what's going on,” the Wolf growled.
Then he took point and led the way into the palace. Thankfully, the scent of narcissus flowers faded as soon as we crossed the threshold. It was also warm inside, and I was able to turn down my body heat. Our wet shoes left tracks over the marble floor as we squished and squeaked down a corridor with a vaulted ceiling. Nothing decorated the walls and there were no rugs on the floor. The hallway was completely empty except for us.
“Hello?” I called out. My voice echoed back to me. “Really creepy,” I said softly.
There were no doors off the corridor. It led straight back into a round room with a domed ceiling. Sunlight streamed through glass panels in the dome; making the polished, sapphire floor look like water. A collection of velvet chaise lounges were set over a round, emerald rug in the center of the room; surrounding a collection of round, golden tables in varying heights. In the largest, most elaborate chaise with gilded swans and flowers forming its base, laid a man. No, not laid; lounged. He was draped across the furniture as if he were expecting to be photographed. Or painted.
Honestly, someone should photograph him; he was lovely. The eyes that regarded us were slightly almond-shaped and a blue so bright that they seemed to be glowing. His features were classically beautiful; his generous lips curving up in a warm smile. A riot of loose curls hung to his chin in a blend of copper and gold, and the toga he wore hung precariously from one muscled shoulder; showcasing a slim chest dusted with golden hair. Lean thighs poked out from the hem of his garment and golden sandals crossed over his shins. A stunning man, indeed, but way too pretty in my opinion. Re was pushing the pretty meter for me, but this guy surged beyond it into androgynous territory. I'm sorry, but I like a man to look like a man.
“Welcome,” the pretty boy said as he stood and opened his arms. He made a sweeping gesture toward the other chaise lounges and then a tray of steaming mugs that sat waiting on one of the tables. “Please sit and refresh yourselves. There are cloths to dry your feet and mulled wine to warm your bodies.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I don't mean to be rude, but who are you and what is this place?”
“My name is Narcissus, and I'm sorry to tell you that you've been pulled into my mirror... my curse.”
I sat heavily on one of the chaises.
“I thought you were dead,” the Wolf said in a curious tone. “Fell into a pool and drowned.”
“Yes, I've heard the myth.” Narcissus grimaced as if he'd heard it often enough to be annoyed by it. “It's false. The Goddess Nemesis created a magnificent mirror and then cursed it. When I admired myself in it, I touched the glass and was pulled inside. I've been here ever since.”
“Nemesis?” I asked in surprise and then looked at Kirill and the Wolf. “How the hell did that mirror end up in a human auction?”
Narcissus cocked his head at me. “Why did you make the distinction of human?” His gaze narrowed. “Are you Gods?”
I had a quick moment of deja vu. When I'd first met Thor, he'd asked me that very same question. Except my answer had changed since then.
“Yes,” I said. “I'm sorry; I was shocked or I would have introduced us sooner. I'm Vervain, Goddess of Love, Lions, and the Moon. These are my husbands, Trevor, God of Night Creatures, and Kirill, Ganza of the Intare.”
Yes, Trevor is a god now. We had finally completed the Froekn Binding ritual, and I had given him a piece of my moon magic. It seemed appropriate for a werewolf to have the Dark Dominion; command over nocturnal creatures. The magic bumped him up from demigod to full god.
“Gods,” Narcissus whispered as he fell back onto his seat. “Holy shit. How did you fall into the Mirror?”
“We were pulled in,” I said. “Or compelled to walk in, rather. Narcissus, I get that you're trapped here, but do you have any idea how we might get out?”
“I was going to ask you the same question,” he huffed mirthlessly. “I've never had Gods wander in before. Don't you know a way to wander out again?”
“There must be a way,” I said determinedly. “But no, I don't know it yet.”
“You said you'd never had Gods wander in before,” the Wolf narrowed his stare at Narcissus. “But you've had humans?”
“Yes, they get drawn into the Mirror. Its compulsion is very strong.” Narcissus grimaced. “It's rather ironic when you think about it. Nemesis created the Mirror to punish me for being so vain and self-centered that I caused humans to kill themselves. Now, her mirror is killing them.”
“How does the Mirror kill them?” I asked.
“This isn't a realm that supports life. It's only a
reflection of life.” Narcissus waved his hand at the mugs of wine. “The food and drink can't sustain you. They taste good and fill the belly, but they have no nutrition in them.”
“So, humans starve,” I whispered.
He nodded sadly. “I try to make them as comfortable as possible while they're here; make the most of the days they have before they weaken. I admit that it's not simply kindness; they're the only break in the monotony of my life. My immortality sustains me but sometimes I wish that I could just die.”
“I'm so sorry,” I said softly.
“Thank you.” His cool, blue eyes warmed. “It's nice to have visitors who I know will survive.”
