Thirty Nights Forgotten

Chapter 2: Tarot Reading

Addy’s POV

With a yawn, I stretch my body against the smooth sheets of the bed, wriggling my numb fingers and toes to wake them up. Rolling onto my side, I see Nick sleeping peacefully beside me, and a smile breaks out on my lips.

I can’t believe we’re married. Nick is my husband!

And so is Nicholas, who I can’t wait to see tonight after sunset.

I know I hurt Nick when I rejected him for s*x last night because I could feel his pain through our mate bond: his hurt, his jealousy, and even his self-loathing. As much as I wanted to comfort him, I know that Nick prefers to sort his feelings out on his own.

Nicholas needs me to let him know that it’s okay to show his emotions, but Nick needs his space. Even though they’re technically the same person, they are so completely different. And after these last two years together, I understand those needs a lot better now.

And right now, I need to show my husband just how much I love him. He needs a little reassurance.

I fell asleep last night in nothing but a towel wrapped around me, which fell off in the sheets at some point during my slumber.

Burrowing further beneath the covers, I inch carefully over to Nick so I don’t wake him up. The only thing he’s wearing are those silky, red boxers he wore last night, so I hook my fingers into the waistband and slowly tug them down, exposing his manhood before my eyes.

My hand wraps firmly around him, and he begins to stir awake. As I begin to stroke, I hear him groan incoherently, and I begin to sense his emotions through our mate bond.

He’s mildly confused, but also a little excited as he realizes what I’m doing to him.

The sheets lift off my head as he peeks down at me.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” I smirk.

“Addy? What are you doing?”

“Waking you up. Unless you want me to stop?”

Nick breaks out into a sleepy grin and shakes his head.

“No…keep going.”

“You asked for it.”

It doesn’t take long for him to get hard. As soon as he does, my head dives down to mimic the movement of my hand. When my lips wrap around his tip, he lets out another groan of pleasure, so I swirl my tongue around his tip, just as he likes.

“Oh, Addy, that feels so good…”

He doesn’t have to say it aloud. I can feel the pleasure I’m bringing him through our bond.

My eyes flick upward at him as I begin to bob my head up and down along his length. Unable to resist his tight, washboard abs, my fingers move to brush over his bronze skin. His deep, brown eyes open to meet my gaze, and he watches me suck him off as I move faster and faster.

I love seeing myself as he sees me. Nothing makes me feel more beautiful or cherished…or more powerful.

“Addy,” he whispers hoarsely. “I think I’m going to come.”

I won’t let that stop me. As though he were issuing a challenge instead of a warning, I double down on my movements, taking him as deep as I possibly can.

“Addy, wait, I…ngh!”

Nick’s pleasure washes over me as he releases his seed into my mouth. I know he didn’t mean to, but he wasn’t able to help himself, and the fact that I can make him come like that fills me with a sense of pride.

This mate bond has completely changed s*x for me. For us. I now possess the innate ability to know what my men like and don’t like in bed, and just exactly what drives them wild.

Sitting up, I wipe the corner of my mouth with my fingertips as I swallow. His eyes widen with awe, and I can’t help but giggle. I can still feel the ripples of his euphoria spreading through his body, and it’s nearly as good for me as it is for him.

“Oh, Addy, that was…so good…” he gasps, panting heavily beneath me. “You’re amazing. Come here and let me return the favor.”

“No need. Feeling your orgasm was satisfying enough. Besides, I’m going to need all my energy for the day I have planned for us.”

“Are you sure we can’t just stay in bed?”

Nick breaks out into a wide grin as he yanks me down on top of him. Burrowing his face into my neck, he begins to tickle me with his kisses as he holds me firmly against his chest with strong, muscular arms. I giggle and squirm against him, but I’m no match for his strength.

“If we stay in bed all day, we’ll starve!” I squeal. “We need to get downstairs before breakfast is over.”

“Fine! But only because you mentioned food, and I’m always hungry.”

Once we get dressed and head downstairs, we fill our plates from the breakfast buffet and find our seats in the dining room. I immediately pull out our itinerary as Nick shovels a huge pile of eggs into his mouth.

“I have so much planned for us this week! Of course, we’ll have to try the beignets at Café du Monde, but I’ve also booked us a riverboat dinner cruise along the Mississippi. And I booked this swamp boat tour of the bayou where you get to see alligators, but I still need to call around to book a ghost tour around the French Quarter. Everywhere I’ve called has said they’re all booked up. I’d like to see the Music Box Village too, so I squeezed that in after lunch on Tuesday.”

Nick lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head with a bemused expression on his face.

“You have our entire week planned down to the last detail, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do. We can’t just wander around New Orleans without a plan.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less of you,” he grins at me.

Once we’re done with breakfast, we set out to explore the French Quarter on foot. We’re both in complete awe of the incredible architecture and culture of the city, which is bustling in preparation for Mardi Gras. Marching bands play upbeat music in the streets as tourists wander Bourbon Street with drinks in hand.

“It’s not even noon yet!” Nick exclaims incredulously.

“The party never stops in New Orleans,” I giggle. “Especially during Mardi Gras!”

A person wanders by with a particularly tasty-looking frozen drink, but I know that I need to stick with water if I have any chance of making it through the day without my symptoms flaring up.

Two years ago, I wouldn’t have had any hope of walking around all day like this, but I’ve come so far since then. I’m armed with diagnoses and medications and knowledge about my chronic illness now, which I didn’t have before. And some days it still isn’t easy, but I’m finally living my life again.

And now, I’m exploring one of the most fascinating cities on Earth with my husband by my side. It still feels weird to call him that, but I like it.

Sorry, my husbands. Plural.

I can tell that Nicholas is enjoying the scenery through Nick’s eyes, and I can’t wait to ask him what he thinks later tonight. It’s been fun introducing him to my world, which is still all so new to him.

“Hey, look!” I say, grabbing Nick’s arm. “It’s an occult shop. Should we go explore?”

I barely wait for an answer before dragging him inside. There’s no one else in the shop, and it feels like the hustle and bustle of the streets melts away as soon as the door closes behind us.

The dusty shelves are filled with all sorts of potions and talismans for sale, and there’s even a basket of burlap toys labeled “voodoo dolls.” There are books on witchcraft and other esoteric practices, and the shop has an eclectic and mysterious feel to it.

“May I help you?”

An older woman with long, silvery hair appears from the back room, wiping the dust from her hands onto her apron. Her eyes, which are sunken in her face, barely glance over me before landing on Nick with a curious expression.

“We’re just here to look around,” I answer with a smile.

“I’m Sybil, by the way. I offer tarot card readings if you’re interested. You can’t come to New Orleans and not get a reading from a local witch.”

“Ooh, yeah, should we do it?”

I glance up at Nick excitedly, who is clearly skeptical of all this. Even though we’ve both witnessed the power of magic with our own eyes, we both know that it’s reserved solely for the Demon Realm. Witches and magic don’t exist here on Earth – not unless they come through the portal.

But that portal was sealed when the Curse of the Werewolf was broken.

This is all just in good fun, so when Nick shrugs his shoulders, I turn my gaze back onto the so-called witch, Sybil.

“Yeah, we’ll do it!”

“It’s sixty dollars per reading. Cash.”

Once I pay her the fee, she takes us into a room off to the side and closes the door. It’s a small, dimly lit parlor with nothing more than a table and a few mismatched chairs set up around it.

“Who’s first?” she asks, glancing between the two of us.

Nick nods over at me as he sits down in his chair.

“Okay,” she explains, shuffling a deck of cards in her hand. “When you feel like you’re ready, tell me to stop. I’ll lay out all the cards on the table, and you’ll pick three cards from the pile. The first represents your current situation, and the second, an obstacle that will soon come your way. The third card represents your future, offering you guidance on what is to come. You’ll place each card on the table in front of you, in order.”

A silence falls over the room as she continues to shuffle the cards. It feels a little awkward, so I figure it’s time to get on with the reading.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Sybil nods before fanning the cards out across the table in an arc. Gesturing to the pile, she encourages me to pick my first card.

I pull one out and lay it flat on the table in front of me.

“Ah, yes, The Lovers,” she hums.

I glance at the card, which is an illustrated depiction of Adam and Eve beneath an angel in the sky. A snake winds its way up the tree behind Eve as a mountain sits in the background.

Selecting the next card, I lay it beside The Lovers. Unlike the first card, it doesn’t have a label, but it depicts a man running away from a fairground with a pile of swords in his arms.

“The Seven of Swords,” Sybil says, quirking an eyebrow. “This is about to get very interesting.”

I can’t help but feel a sense of excitement as I select the last card. Placing it at the end of the row, I study the figure on the card, which is an image of a woman sitting upon a throne. In one hand she holds a sword, and in the other a set of scales. At the bottom of the image is a single word.

“Justice,” Sybil nods, musing thoughtfully as she taps her chin. “What an intriguing selection of cards.”

“What does it all mean?”

“The Lovers card reflects your current situation. You are a passionate person that often makes decisions based on emotion rather than logic. You’re very attuned to the sensual side of yourself, which makes you an excellent lover.”

I can feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I glance over at Nick. He’s wearing a wide grin on his face, and it’s obvious that he’s thinking about our encounter in bed this morning.

“But the second card is where things get interesting,” Sybil says, bringing my focus back onto her. “The Seven of Swords card represents deceit, lies, and trickery. Someone will come along and try to ruin your current romantic relationship, perhaps even using deception to make you fall in love with them instead. Beware. The Justice card indicates that you will need to make a choice – either continue with this false relationship or return to the arms of your true lover. Use your intuition to guide your decision, because once it is made, you will never be able to reverse it. It will have irreparable effects on you and those around you.”

I can sense Nicholas growing agitated through our bond, although Nick seems quite skeptical of the entire thing. Obviously, this is all just a silly game, but Nicholas doesn’t seem to see it that way.

“Thank you,” I say. “Nick, it’s your turn.”

He and I switch spots so that he’s facing Sybil directly across the table. She’s already gathered the cards into her hands, and she shuffles them with surprising deftness for her old, wrinkled hands.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she tells Nick. “Let the cards be your guide.”

If Sybil was looking away, Nick would probably be rolling his eyes right now, but he’s entirely too polite for that. He’s only doing this tarot card reading because I asked him to, although it’s obvious that he finds the whole thing incredibly ridiculous.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Once again, Sybil fans the cards out across the table, and Nick selects one from the pile. When he lays it in front of him, I peer over his shoulder to catch a glimpse, and I have to suppress a snort of laughter.

Of course, of all the cards that Nick would pick, he picks the Moon card! It depicts an illustration of two wolves howling up at the moon above, and I have to cover my mouth to suppress a giggle. Even Nicholas is snickering, which I can sense through our bond.

Nick selects a second card, which depicts a man holding a long stick in a defensive position. A group of similar sticks pop up from the ground in front of him, almost like a fence or a cage.

“The Seven of Wands,” Sybil explains.

Nick selects a third card from the stack, and my amusement suddenly disappears. The card depicts a man hanging upside down from a tree branch by his ankle, and the words across the bottom fill me with a deep sense of unease.

The Hanged Man.