The morning light streaming in from the living room windows painted Rhun’s face in a golden glow, made his pale blue-green eyes shine even more brightly. Plopping down on the couch next to him, Merle sighed.

“It’s not fair,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“How blindingly beautiful you are.” She gestured wildly in his general direction.

That damn, sneakily hot-as-hell smirk of his curled his mouth, lit his eyes.

“Of course,” she added, just to take him down a notch, “you often temper the ethereal quality of your looks by opening your mouth and shooting off a sarcastic remark that makes me want to strangle you, so there is some balance.”

“I’m offended,” Rhun declared, glaring at her.

“Oh? Why?”

“My sarcastic remarks only make you want to strangle me? That’s so mild and unimaginative. What happened to wanting to eviscerate me after beating me to a pulp? Do I need to step up my game? Because clearly I’m not annoying you enough anymore.” He crossed his arms and pouted.

She snickered and smacked his shoulder. “I may yet use that spoon I’ve been threatening you with.”

One side of his mouth tipped up, and his eyes sparked with interest. “That’s more like it.”

“I’ve been wondering,” she said after a pause, sobering, “about this witch-demon hybrid thing.” She waved at her belly. “I’m a little worried about it, to be honest. I don’t know what to expect. How much of her will be demon, how much witch? What will her powers be like?” She looked up at him. “Her needs? I didn’t find any precedent to go by…”

“I did.” He shrugged at her inquisitive look. “I did some research among my kind. Turns out there was a case of a mating between a bluotezzer demon and a witch some eighty years ago, in Europe. She was expelled from her community, which is probably why you didn’t find anything in your archives.”

Merle growled, irate at the thought of another witch being ostracized just because she fell in love with a demon. Those damn bigoted, narrow-minded, hateful—

“Yes to all of that,” he said, nodding at what had to be a murderous expression on her face. “Anyway, the couple had three children, all of them daughters.”

“The witch gene.”

“Yep, seems like it.” His free hand came up to twirl a lock of her hair around his fingers. “They had witch powers.”

“But…?” Merle prodded. His tone definitely indicated a but.

“They were part demon, too.” He met her eyes. “They needed to satisfy one of the nourishment needs of my species, but only one, and always the same one, for the rest of their lives.”

Merle blew out a breath. That wasn’t so bad. “Well, then I hope they’ll only have to take pleasure.”

Rhun bristled, his aura blazing. “Well, I damn sure hope they won’t! If it was up to me, they’d have to take pain.”

She stared at him, baffled.

“We are talking,” Rhun growled in response to her scowl, “about my daughters. They will never—ever—take pleasure from a male. They will be cute little witch volcanoes for their entire lives, and the only thing they’ll ever do to males is cause them pain. Are we clear?”

Merle stared at him a moment longer, trying to maintain a straight face, until she couldn’t fight it anymore. She burst out laughing. Flopping down face-first on the couch, she laughed and laughed and laughed, coming up once, thinking she could sober up and stop.

One look at Rhun’s disgruntled expression had her wheezing with laughter again. She barely noticed when he left the couch and stalked out of the room, muttering something sounding like “not funny” under his breath.

“Oh, come on,” Merle said, getting up and following Rhun out of the living room. “You have to admit—”

Sudden pain made her break off mid-sentence and double over. Searing fire shot along her nerves, and she cried out, falling to her knees, the pain of hitting the hardwood floors just a blip compared to the agony wracking her whole body.

Dammit, not now.

Rhun was at her side in an instant, his hands warm on her clammy skin. “Merle? What is it?”

“The…balance…” Had it been this long already? Hadn’t she just paid back recently?

Rhun cursed. “All right, little witch. I’ve got you.”

He lifted her, his arms under her knees and behind her back, cuddling her close while he carried her back into the living room to set her gently on the couch. She barely noticed. Her back was bowed, her skin on fire, explosive pressure building in her core. The Powers That Be were merciless in demanding she pay back for the magic she’d used, the energy she'd drawn from the layers of the world to supplement her own brand of witch powers. It was the responsibility and curse of all the heads of witch families—the greater the gift, the greater the cost.

Her skin split. One by one, gashes opened up all over her, and she was bleeding magic. Her power-drenched blood dissolved in the air on a sigh of the Powers That Be, those forces holding the world together. She cried out. Sweat slicked her skin, her stomach turned, her jaw locked, and she dug her fingers into the fabric of the couch.

“I’m right here, little witch. I’ve got you. It’ll be over soon.” Rhun’s voice was steady, his tone infused with reassuring confidence, but his hands—they shook while they stroked her, as he cradled her head with the utmost care.

Merle had her eyes closed, couldn’t see Rhun’s expression, could barely feel his presence at the other end of their mating bond, her entire consciousness dominated by the pain wracking her. She could only hope and pray that this time upholding the balance wouldn’t take long.

“It’s okay, Merle mine. You’ll be okay, you’re strong—” Rhun’s voice broke off, and something in it, an echo along the mating bond, made Merle snap to attention, even in the midst of the agony razing her body and mind.

She opened her eyes, focused on Rhun, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw his expression. He was white as a sheet, horror in his eyes.

“Rhun…” she ground out past the pain that was so debilitating she all but wanted to lose consciousness. “What…is it?”

She followed his look to the cushion underneath her hips—and the bright red stain spreading across the beige fabric.

Her heart stopped. Her stomach—already in turmoil—made a dive for the ground. She felt it now, through the pain and the magic leaving her body…the wet warmth between her thighs…

The baby…

* * *

Rhun stared at the pool of blood spreading underneath Merle’s hips. She was wearing black jeans, so he hadn’t noticed, had thought the blood he smelled was from the gashes on her body, her payback to the Powers That Be. He hadn’t noticed she was bleeding somewhere else…

“Rhun…” Merle cried out again, and then she sagged against the cushions, her mind lost to darkness.

Through their mating bond, Rhun could see, feel, sense her slipping into unconsciousness. And just before the link to her went numb as she fainted, he felt a weakening which promised to break everything inside him—the spark of life in Merle’s belly flickered, dimmed.

No.

Heart hammering a thousand beats a minute, he shot to his feet. It was day, his demon powers muted, but even at night he wouldn’t have the magic to heal her. His demon species’ powers weren’t of the healing kind. There was nothing he could do for her, or their baby. He jumped to pick up his phone from the table. Browsed through the contacts, dialed the number, and waited, with bated breath, his soul shattering into a million pieces.

“Hello?”

He’d never been so relieved to hear that voice. “Hazel, you need to come here ASAP.”

“What’s going—”

“Get the fuck over here right now.”

He hung up, crammed the phone in his pocket, and rushed over to Merle’s side again. As he did not so long ago—and yet it seemed like a lifetime had passed—he closed his eyes, his hand wrapped tightly around Merle’s, and prayed to the Powers That Be, to those gods he’d shunned all his life, and who had nevertheless heard his fervent pleas when he had begged them to take pain and magic from him instead. They’d done it once, they could do it again.

So he prayed, and prayed, and fucking prayed. Take it from me… Take my blood, take my magic… Spare her. Take it from me instead…

Nothing happened. Nothing but more gashes opening up all over Merle’s body, more of her blood, her magic, pouring out, widening the pool of angry red on the couch cushion.

No! No, you fuckers. Take it from me.

He sat on the couch, pulled Merle onto his lap, and rocked her, holding her tightly in his arms, feeling the life drain from her body—both lives.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, how long he rocked the ravaged body of his witch, of his unborn child inside her, before the front door burst open, and in stormed the intimidating force of a concerned Elder witch.

“She’s pregnant,” Rhun called out. “She’s paying pack to the Powers That Be, and I think she’s losing the baby.”

“Give her to me.” Hazel ran to Merle’s side, took her from Rhun’s arms.

Cradling Merle in one arm, she laid her hand on Merle’s abdomen, closed her eyes and murmured words of magic, the meaning of which flew right past Rhun’s tortured mind. A glow formed around Hazel, visible to his eyes even with his dulled daytime senses.

The Elder witch worked her magic like a madwoman, the glow around her blinding in its intensity. The gashes on Merle’s body closed, and she stopped bleeding magic. Had her other bleeding been stopped as well? Rhun couldn’t tell, because the air was drenched with the smell of blood to the point that—with his dulled daytime senses—he couldn’t discern whether there was any fresh blood. Merle’s skin was so white the freckles on her face stood out starkly.

He couldn’t read her aura, and he couldn’t feel anything from her. Rhun’s only way to tell how Merle was doing was through their mating bond, and that link lay silent. He didn’t dare ask Hazel how she was doing, for fear of interrupting her focus. He had to wait, he had to fucking wait for Hazel to be finished with whatever she was doing for his mate before she could tell him whether Merle and the baby would be okay.

The minutes ticked by. It seemed like forever. He swore his heart couldn’t beat this fast for such a long time without exploding in his chest.

Sweat broke out on Hazel’s forehead, her face scrunched up as if she was struggling. She kept muttering spells, most of them in Sanskrit, the ancient language used for many charms. And Rhun didn’t understand a single word of it. He couldn’t tell if she was making progress.

Then, finally, Hazel took a shaky breath, and withdrew her hand from Merle’s abdomen. She was shaking all over. Rhun got up, and knelt next to his mate. Hazel opened her eyes and looked at him, the white around her irises bloodshot, with dark circles under her eyes that hadn’t been there when she arrived. She seemed to have aged years within a matter of minutes.

“Is she…?” croaked Rhun, unable to ask aloud what he most feared.

Hazel signaled for him to take Merle from her arms, and he did so without a moment’s hesitation. Cradling his fiery witch volcano against his chest, he looked at the elder witch in trepidation.

“She will be fine,” Hazel said, her voice weaker than Rhun had ever heard it. “And I managed to save the baby. The bleeding has stopped, and, from what I can tell, the pregnancy is stable again.”

Rhun sagged against the couch, exhaling an enormous sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Merle’s.

* * *

When Merle came to, she was enveloped in the heat of Rhun’s arms, cradled by his love. The mating bond pulsed with his concern for her, feeding her strength. Her eyes fluttered open to behold a face of stark male beauty, set in harsh lines of worry and anger. When he noticed she was awake, the hard mask of his features softened, taking on that special expression he only ever showed when he beheld her.

“Merle mine…” A low murmur, pitched for her ears alone.

“The baby…” But even as she said it, she sensed the tiny spark inside her, felt its life glowing, growing, taking root. “Oh, thank the gods…”

“The gods have nothing to do with this one,” Rhun growled. “In fact, if it weren’t for Hazel, your precious gods would have taken our child’s life, along with your magic.”

“Hazel…” She frowned, sat up a little in his arms, looked around.

“Here.” The Elder witch, as dear to Merle as an aunt by blood, leaned closer and grasped Merle’s hand, squeezed. “I’m still here. It’s only been a few minutes.”

“You fucking scared me, little witch,” Rhun rasped. “If Hazel hadn’t been able to come so quickly…”

Hazel shook her head. “Merle would have survived.” Her unflinching stare slammed into Merle’s, a haunting truth written in it. “But your baby wouldn’t have.”

Merle’s hand instinctively covered her abdomen. “How…? Why did this happen? Paying back hurts, yes, and it’s always a burden, but it shouldn’t end anyone’s life.”

Hazel’s brows drew together. “I’m not sure. I’ve been thinking a little while you were recovering… It’s always the oldest living witch who becomes head of her family, and as far back as I can remember, I’ve only ever seen witches who were past childbearing age take that position. It’s the natural order of things.

“Which means that it should never be an issue that the head of a family—with the obligation to uphold the balance of magic—would become pregnant, and the pregnancy be at risk because of the excruciating process of paying back. I have never heard of a case like this, but then again, there wouldn't be many. It is so very unusual for a witch of Merle’s age to be the oldest surviving member of her family and have to take the leading position. I have to look into this, see if I can find any precedents in our history.”

“I will research in our library, too,” Merle said, a sinking feeling of foreboding churning in her gut. “I never thought…”

“Merle.” Hazel’s tone was so, so quiet, as if she was unwilling to fully voice what was on her mind. “Even without having done any further research on this, I can already tell you that the next time you have to pay back to the Powers That Be for the magic you’ve been using, I might not be able to save the baby. Even now it was a close call. There was a moment…” She took an unsteady breath, closed her eyes for a brief second. “I just barely managed to save her. As far as I can see, upholding the balance jeopardizes your pregnancy, and unless you stop using magic right now, and avoid using magic for the rest of the pregnancy, this baby very likely will not survive.”

It took a moment. Then the words hit Merle, crashed through the numbness saturating her mind, her heart, her soul, and smashed her nascent bud of hope. Stop using magic… To do so would mean—

“It’s time to end the deal with Arawn, then.” Rhun’s anger vibrated along the mating bond, underlaid with a terror so profound it shredded Merle’s tenuous grasp on her composure.

“No.” A whisper, a desperate rebuttal.

Rhun shifted on the couch to face her, his eyes glittering cold. “The deal with him means you have to put your magic at his disposal, and he’s been taking advantage of it—a lot, and mostly for trivial shit. As long as you keep the deal with him, you’ll have to keep using your magic, which means you’ll have to pay back to the Powers That Be.” His neck muscles corded, and his nostrils flared. “Which means our baby will die.”

Merle shook her head, feeling too much for her cracking heart to keep in. “I can’t,” she rasped. “I can’t just send Maeve to that…that monster.” Tears clouded her vision as she looked at her mate, her husband, her lover. “Don’t ask me to make that decision.”

Rhun made as if to say something, but she laid her hand over his mouth. “Please…not now. I can’t do this right now.” She turned to Hazel, who still sat in her chair, cloaked in awkward silence. “Does Maeve know?”

Hazel shook her head. “She’s gone to the movies with Keira, Lenora, and Anjali. She had her phone turned off, so I couldn’t reach her.”

“Don’t tell her.” Merle’s voice was as husky as her baby sister’s, her throat tight with anguish. “Don’t say a word to her about the pregnancy and the risk. I…need to think before I discuss it with her.”

Hazel hesitated, shifted her weight on the chair, but then she nodded. “Sure. We’ll look into this, Merle. We’ll find a way to make it work.”

A muscle ticked along Rhun’s jaw. “You better do it fast. Considering the rate at which Arawn has been using her magic, we have about a week before she has to pay back again.”