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Thalia’s body is drenched in anticipation, on high alert as I take her higher and higher.
“What do you know about witches, little lamb?” I ask her. When she told me she didn’t know her mother’s family, I didn’t sense any dishonesty. It doesn’t surprise me that her father kept her from them. He no doubt told them she died along with her mother. He knows she rightfully belongs with them, but his need for power and control would never have allowed him to give up his greatest bargaining chip.
Thalia scoffs. “You mean fairy tales?” My little lamb is dismissive, but I can hear the way her pulse picks up, the blood rushing faster through her veins at her lie. A wide grin splits across my lips. My cock hardens as her eyes round and fear wafts off her like an enchanting perfume. She knows I’ve caught her little untruth.
“It seems you know very well that witches aren’t fairy tales,” I murmur, curious about how much she knows. I dial back the vibrations, captivated at how her body slumps against the desk without the frisson of pleasure rushing through her to keep her on edge. Thalia responds so readily to the simplest things. Whoever took her innocence before us obviously used her for their own pleasure instead of seeking hers.
Something worthy of death, in my eyes.
“I’ve never seen one,” she huffs. “I know less about them than I know about vampires or fae.”
Interesting. It took less time for her to bond with Miriam than I thought. I wondered how readily she would accept the unknown. Knowing about vampires is one thing. Her father worked closely with many of my kind, most of whom are rather unsavory characters, she would have been exposed to their presence throughout her life. But there’s an easy acceptance of my kind among humans because, despite our differences, our similarity to them allows their minds to better accommodate our existence.
Vampires come from legends, which are based on many truths throughout history that are readily documented. Vlad Dracul and Elizabeth Bathory are just a few of our kind who made history due to their…darker natures. But creatures such as fae or witches? The human mind cannot seem to stretch that far, refusing to believe that they are anything more than ghost stories and fairy tales.
“Many believe that witches came before vampires.” I lean in, nuzzling her earlobe, relishing how her body trembles beneath mine when I let my teeth gently graze the sensitive skin. “They say vampires come from a curse that they laid upon man eons ago.”
It’s taking all that I have not to claim her right here and now. Her scent has been driving me mad since the moment Weylen stepped into the room for our meeting. That was hours ago now. That hunger only grew when my little lamb strolled into my office with my brother’s bite marks upon her neck. The fuckers knew that it would taunt me, drive my beast to the end of its leash.
Neither of them completely agrees with the plan. Over the years, they have become attached to her. Our sacrificial lamb. The tool that will help us rid the world of Jedidiah forever. I can’t let that sentimentality veer us from the path that destiny has chosen for us.
“Did you know your mother was a witch?” I ask her. Surprise flits across her face, but there is something buried just beneath it. Acceptance. As if she has always wondered but needed confirmation.
“I’ve been told,” she whispers.
“But you didn’t believe it.”
She nods.
“Who told you?” I can’t imagine it being her father. He wouldn’t risk her digging deeper into her background or her mother’s. It would have revealed the sordid lies he’d built up around him.
“My brother.” Thalia doesn’t elaborate, but I can see whatever conversation she had with Evan Sinclair has her questioning everything she thought she knew.
Interesting.
I lean back abruptly, my long fingers removing the toy from her drenched center. She moans at the loss. There is one thing I won’t do that my brothers have already done.
Claim her.
No matter how hard my cock yearns to sink into her depths, I can’t allow myself that weakness. There is too much intimacy surrounding sex. Particularly sex with the siren laid out before me like an all-you-can-eat buffet.
I leave the phone and vibrator on the desk and make myself comfortable on the chair she previously occupied. It’s time for the little lamb to learn exactly what she is to us.
A toy.
A tool.
A means to an end.
“Wha—” Confusion colors her face, and she sits up straighter, aware that I’m not coming back to stand between her luscious thighs.
“Crawl to me,” I order her dismissively, the same way I would to one of the many women we fuck on the regular. Women who mean nothing to us except for a release.
“Excuse me?” Her head tilts to the side, brow furrowing as anger flashes like lightning across her gaze.
“You heard me.” I lean back in the chair, legs spread open. “Crawl to me.”
She’s warring with herself. Her bright eyes dart between me and the door, but there is no escape for her. The door is locked, and we won’t be leaving here until she submits and learns her place. A twinge aches in my chest at the crestfallen look that takes over her face as she slowly sinks to her knees, but I ignore it. There is no place for guilt between us. Thalia will come to submit willingly and love the place we have given her.
