Strange Brew

by Angela Colsin

  “You're not upset, are you?”

  Aislinn looked thoughtful, then shrugged. “Nah, a little surprised maybe, but I can understand why. You're right, this would only be ritualistic sex, and I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask to begin with. I guess I just figured … it couldn't hurt.”

  Though Troy nodded over the explanation, he wasn't entirely certain he was making the right decision either. Still, he simply didn't feel comfortable accepting when she only viewed it as a means to an end.

  “Guess we'll see each other in two days then,” he remarked as casually as possible.

  Nodding, she qualified, “I'll be at my mom's home on my birthday. I'm doing the ritual there after midnight where my family has a fire pit set up in the woods not far from our home. So if you want, we can exchange numbers and I'll call you when it's time for lunch. I usually spend it with Mom every Saturday anyway.”

  Grinning, he easily agreed. “I wouldn't miss your birthday for anything.”

  Her smile was genuine, as if she legitimately looked forward to it. In turn, Troy felt like he was finally gaining some ground as they exchanged numbers, and the optimistic thought made it damned hard for him to leave her company.

  But it was only two days. He could summon enough control to last that long—and he'd need it when he was planning on abstaining along with her.

  It wouldn't be that bad.

  Chapter 14

  What Troy thought wouldn't be so bad turned out to be damned near impossible.

  For two days, he couldn't get that ritual out of his head, and throwing himself into work on the manor only helped so much. Sometimes, his progress was undone by a fit of irritation that caused him to break something at random, and the longer he went without Aislinn's calming influence, the more he returned to that chaotic hell of savagery he'd been in before they met.

  But his desire to have her close wasn't the only reason for his irritation. Refraining from taking the edge off by slaking his more virile needs was also taking its toll. It really made him wonder how the hell Aislinn had gone without any form of satisfaction for two months—and why she hadn't hexed him for putting temptation in her path. I sure as hell wouldn't have blamed her.

  Topping it all off, he wasn't sure if he'd even made the right decision. So by the time Friday evening rolled around—being the eve of her birthday—Troy wasn't in the best of moods by far.

  He consistently wondered Why not do this? It's obviously important to Aislinn, and there's benefits … . She'd even said she was interested, just not enough so to spend the night with him if no ritual was involved, and how could he ignore such a thing?

  The library wall suddenly bore the brunt of his frustration with an old wooden panel snapping completely in half under his fist. Troy had spent the past two days there instead of in his renovated bedroom because the library still needed repairs, so evidence of his angry outbursts would soon be fixed.

  “Punching walls again?”

  Adriana's voice sounded at the door, and he looked back to spy a curious expression on her face as she stepped inside.

  Without care to temper his frustration, he snapped, “What do you want?”

  Despite his harsh tone, the fae remained as pleasant as he'd ever seen her, shutting the door before answering, “Just wondering if there was anything I could do to help.” She looked amused by all the dents he'd put in the walls recently, adding, “I'm also wondering if Bryant did the same thing after he first saw me.”

  Adriana and Bryant had been mated for nearly twenty years, and Troy remembered his uncle's reaction to finding her very well. The werewolf had spotted the fae from a distance in the woods one afternoon, but she hadn't noticed him at all, and before Bryant could even approach her, Adriana teleported from sight to an unknown location.

  The resulting search was, in a word, irritating. Tanda managed to predict where they'd find her, but in the meantime, Bryant was one violently unhappy werewolf.

  “Actually,” Troy qualified, “he broke my leg and almost threw Luther off a balcony.”

  Adriana looked stunned, suggesting she'd never heard this before. “Why?”

  “The flight he needed to take to find you was being delayed by the weather, and when Luther tried to explain, Bryant was so on edge he just exploded.”

  The fae sighed, but it was hard to say whether she was flattered or upset by the story because she changed the subject. “So what's going on with Aislinn? You said she had a ritual to do, right?”

  Troy grumbled. The only thing he'd explained to anyone was that Aislinn needed two days to prepare for a ritual so they would know to expect his temper to get short again. A secondary reason was his unwillingness to spend eternity being the butt of their jokes about turning his mate down for sex.

  But on the other hand, Adriana was an unbiased third-party. While his cousins would've offered the same advice—being to give Aislinn the night of her life, ritual or not—the fae would have a unique perspective.

  So he finally admitted his troubles while she listened carefully, looking extremely surprised by the time he was done. “You said no to sex with your mate? That's a first.”

  “I don't want her thinking I'm taking advantage,” Troy pointed out, “and I know I wouldn't be able to stop myself.”

  “No, I understand why, and it is a unique situation. Still, maybe you should help because it's important to Aislinn.”

  He sighed, confessing, “I'd thought the same thing. But Aislinn doesn't want this because she wants me, or she does, but the ritual is her main focus.”

  “Perhaps, but doesn't she kind of belong to a pack of lupines?”

  Troy's brows drew together. “So?”

  “So there's probably a lot of men she could find to help, but she still asked you. That counts for something, right?”

  Though she had a point, Troy didn't like it. There was no doubt in his mind that Aislinn wanted him in a physical sense, but he wasn't entirely certain she was interested in developing something more meaningful, making the possibility that she'd turn to one of the lupines for help very feasible.

  Suddenly, he wondered if she already had.

  “Fuck!” Troy cussed, decimating a few shelves with his fist.

  “Gee,” Adriana muttered, “I thought that might make you feel better.”

  “It's not you,” he growled. “I just realized she might've already asked someone else.”

  “Oh,” the fae drew out, cringing. “Well, you said she's waiting until midnight, right? So there's still time to catch her before it starts. Just … don't slaughter anyone if she's not alone. It'd probably kill the mood.”

  Troy didn't have a choice, praying to whatever god might've been listening that Aislinn was by herself, because if she wasn't, there was no telling how she'd react when he broke their fucking neck.

  ~*~*~*~

  Fire pit? Check. Ritual tools? Check. Pallet? Check.

  Excruciatingly hot werewolf? Not a single one in sight.

  Aislinn sighed at the thought while diligently working to set up her ritual in the woods behind her family home that evening. Several years ago, Helen and Miranda had placed an iron fire pit in a small grove of trees there, making it the perfect place in offering a needed sense of both comfort and security.

  Initially, she'd felt fairly positive about the undertaking, but as time wore on, her optimism slowly dwindled. It just seemed like something was missing, and though she didn't want to admit it, deep down she knew it was Troy.

  But she couldn't blame him for refusing to help. He was right that this would only count as a fling with no substantial meaning attached as far as she was concerned—or so she'd told him two days prior. Since then, Aislinn had questioned herself, realizing she wanted Troy there a lot more than she'd let on, and not just because having a partner was preferable to going solo.

  After all, she was just a call away from getting Hobbs to help. He was still single and probably wouldn't have minded whatsoever. But the thought of sleeping with h
im or anyone else was not only irksome, it left her feeling … unfaithful.

  Troy was the man she really wanted. The fact that he'd restrained himself from helping because he thought it was for the best melted her heart. He was also easy to get along with, and made her feel safe, so his presence would've offered the peace of mind she needed to thoroughly ensure that she didn't mess this up.

  Instead, she had to settle for the next best thing, being his rose pendant which she'd blessed for protection. Nothing could've replaced the werewolf, particularly if he was her familiar, but his gift would have to do.

  So she'd gotten started by laying out the necessary tools upon a tree stump she was using as an altar, including her athame, a chalice, a small pestle and mortar, and a decanter filled with homemade cider. Once the items were neatly in place, Aislinn peeled off all of her clothes, minus her fur-lined boots and panties, and put on a robe to combat the cold weather.

  Lastly, she'd spread out a few thick blankets close to the fire pit along with some pillows where she could perform the final act in general comfort. With everything in place, she knelt before her altar, as ready as she would ever be to get this ritual underway.

  Taking a breath, she lifted her athame in two hands with the blade pointed down, and closed her eyes, but only managed to part her lips when her intended chant was interrupted by a familiar voice.

  “Still have room?”

  Aislinn's heart skipped in excitement as she looked back, spotting Troy heading toward the area. He was dressed light for the cold weather, in a plain white shirt and a pair of tight fitting jeans, but the mere sight of him nearly made her forget the temperature altogether.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, standing as he stopped only a few feet from her altar, and she wasn't oblivious to the way he looked her over. Being as cold as it was, he could probably see her nipples straining against the thin fabric of her robe, and the look on his face only made them ache with need.

  Returning his gaze to her face as if snapping himself out of a stupor, he answered, “Couldn't let you do this by yourself. It's important to you, and if I can't support that, then I'm not fit for you. So I'm here for an assist … if you still want it, anyway.”

  Aislinn could feel her heart softening toward him yet again. Damn this werewolf! Frowning, she asked, “Then you don't mind that this is just a ritual?”

  “Honestly, I'm not sure I could ever look at it as just that,” he started, then teased, “but I can live with the fact that it won't mean we're going steady or anything.”

  When he gave her a playful smirk, Aislinn bit her lip and briefly considered admitting that she wasn't only interested in sleeping with him because the ritual called for a sexual act, but decided against it. Troy was invested in making a relationship work between them, and while she also wanted to see where it would go, she wasn't sure that telling him so wouldn't be a mistake just yet.

  So she merely nodded, instructing him, “Well, take a seat. I'll do most of the work myself. I just need you to—”

  “Be silent so you can focus, and only help if asked. I know,” he nodded, looking her over once more as if riveted before going to sit on the thick blanket she'd laid out near the fire pit.

  Just how many rituals has he participated in? The thought was incredibly distracting, making Aislinn grumble as she knelt by her makeshift altar once more. Closing her eyes, she held up her athame again and endeavored to focus on the ritual instead of her questions.

  After several moments clearing her mind, she began whispering in Latin, repeating the lines in a chant while envisioning a barrier surrounding the area that would keep unwanted energy out. As her chant grew in speed, her power built with it, reaching a peak much more quickly with Troy around than it probably would've otherwise.

  Finally, her spell culminated with the fire pit suddenly roaring to life all on its own. Though invisible, the protective barrier was now in place around them, and Aislinn put her athame back on the altar when she heard Troy mention, “You must be pretty skilled to do that all by yourself.”

  “Why?” she asked curiously, opening her altar box for a bit of sage to place in the mortar.

  “Because I've watched a coven of ten struggle to erect a barrier before.”

  That was a nice stroke to her ego, making Aislinn wonder if the way she'd felt so off center really was all in her head—though Troy had definitely helped. Guess I'll find out tonight if he's my familiar for sure.

  Smiling over his praise, she finished grinding the sage, then dumped it into her palm and stood, turning toward the fire pit. On the way, she stated, “You know, praise is one of a witch's biggest weaknesses.”

  Lifting her hand to her mouth, she blew into her palm, sending the sage through the air toward the fire. In striking the flames, the particles burst into small flecks of light that began drifting around the area like blue and silver fireflies, purifying whatever unwanted energy her barrier might've trapped inside.

  “If that's the case, you're gonna be putty in my hands because I've never seen a witch do that,” Troy responded as he glanced around at the drifting lights.

  Aislinn grinned proudly and returned to her altar for the decanter, filling the chalice with cider. Lifting it, she walked over to settle on the pallet next to Troy, and offered him the drink, explaining, “It's homemade cider, symbolic of accepting Romedra's gift in this rite. We both need to drink from it.”

  Taking the chalice, he asked, “Did you make it?”

  “Yeah, Mom taught me how, and she's infamous at the festivals we attend. Still, I've never been quite as good at it.”

  Troy took a sip, letting it settle on his tongue before nodding in approval. “Tastes good to me.”

  With a smirk, she took the chalice back and suggested, “Guess that whole nobody does it quite like Mom thing only applies to your own mother.”

  When he grinned, it gave Aislinn the feeling that he would've let her talk about her family all night if she'd wanted, which was a little surprising. Being a werewolf who was about to engage in a sex based rite with his mate, Aislinn thought he might've been impatient to get underway. But here he was, chatting without trying to initiate something too soon, making her even more grateful for his presence.

  Smiling, she admitted, “So, I should probably tell you that I'm glad you changed your mind about this.”

  Troy regarded her with a curious glint in his eyes. “Why is that?”

  It sounded like he was fishing, and Aislinn pursed her lips. “Because, as silly as it may sound, I honestly feel safer with you around.”

  She thought he might be flattered, and while there was a smug smile on his face, he apparently wasn't satisfied. “And?”

  “And what?”

  “And you want me, too,” he answered arrogantly. “I don't care if it's only physical.”

  Sighing, she admitted, “Okay, I want you. I think you're the sexiest man I've ever laid eyes on, and I also think you need to make up for the frustration you caused me last week.”

  As if her statement had him imagining erotic things, Troy groaned, warning, “That's the wrong thing to say when you're sitting in a flimsy robe next to a werewolf who hasn't gotten off in two days.”

  Aislinn blinked. “Why not?”

  “You're abstaining, so I'm waiting with you.”

  “Oh,” she drew out, becoming breathless at the thought of Troy pleasuring himself. “Then you've been … ”

  “Every day since we met,” he admitted shamelessly, “and not just once a day either. So the past two have seemed more like a week. Makes me wonder how the hell you went without for two whole months.”

  Her heart skipped a beat. While the thought of Troy masturbating was arousing, the notion that he'd done it fantasizing about her made it even better, and she couldn't help but ask, “What were you thinking of?”

  Troy's smirk was devious, his eyes heating to golden as he answered, “I don't wanna spoil what we'll be doing later, but I will say I'm hoping you look
as fucking sexy when you come for me as I've imagined.”

  Though she wasn't prone to shyness, Aislinn's throat went dry. Troy was so intense, and she wondered if he even realized it.

  Downing the cider—probably gonna need it—she whispered, “You didn't have to abstain though.”

  “No? When I've been frustrating you so much? The least I could do was deny myself until your birthday. I just hope you don't get upset with me if I can't look at this as just a fling.”

  “Honestly, one of the reasons I didn't tell you was that I didn't think you could.”

  He looked a little annoyed, and she supposed it was due to the fact that she was trying to keep this as friendly as possible rather than allowing herself to think of it as a romantic liaison that just happened to have a ritual involved. So in attempt to smooth it over, she added, “I trust you though, and I don't think you'd try to push me into something I wasn't comfortable with.”

  She'd phrased the statement more like a question in order to get his reaction—and thankfully, it was satisfying. Troy gave her the most serious expression she'd seen on his face to date, and shook his head. “Never. I couldn't live with myself if I hurt you. That's why I said no to begin with. But I still need to support you. So here I am.”

  She could see that more clearly now, and truth be told, his support was a little overwhelming, and incredibly endearing. It made Aislinn wonder if he could even be real, or if there was some catch she was missing—aside from being turned into a werewolf in order to be with him wholly anyway, which definitely qualified as a catch.

  But he wasn't forcing it on her, and she felt that the least she could do for him was keep an open mind on the matter.

  “You're wearing the pendant,” he suddenly pointed out during her thoughts.

  She looked down at the jeweled rose hanging just above her breasts, and nodded, “I've blessed it for protection, thought it might come in handy tonight.” And I haven't taken it off since you put it on me.