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“I look forward to it.”
“And ever after, I promise myself to thee. Each day we share, I will be honest, good, and true. If this you seek, heed my Call. From this moment on, there is no other for me but you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Marrok
I know those words. I’ve read them in magical texts when I researched Morgana’s book. I’ve heard an impassioned wizard croon them to the female in his arms.
The Mating Call—magic’s equivalent to wedding vows.
They are the last words I expected to fall from “Olivia’s” lips. Does she understand their significance?
She must. Despite disguising herself as another, with that birthmark and those eyes, the witch cannot hide from me. True, she feels, smells, and tastes not like Morgana. But who else could she be?
More importantly, why does she Call to me? Why lure me to her side for life when she already controls my forever?
“Marrok?”
Her vulnerable expression twists my gut. I should feel naught for her—not pity, not lust, not this mad desire to possess and protect her. This craving clouding my logic is but an illusion. This arousal stiffening my cock will not last.
Then why do I feel compelled to speak words that will bind us for eternity?
Because she rouses you far more than any woman ever has.
Is it possible that, after damning me to centuries alone, Morgana now wants me in her twisted way? Could breaking my curse be as simple as accepting her Call?
’Tis a gamble, but Morgana already holds my destiny in her cruel fist. Staying the course for a millennium and a half has changed naught. If I say nay, I have no chance of escaping this hell.
A compelling argument for playing her game, whatever it is.
Except her soft body under mine crushes my good sense. The scent of her arousal drives me mad. The urge to bury myself in her slick cunt reduces me to my most primal urges.
No good can possibly come from entwining myself with this viper. Yet if I refuse her Call, what new horror will befall me?
The alarming possibilities tip the scales.
My heart jolts wildly as I stare into her eyes and drag the words from memory. “As I become a part of you, you become a part of me. Each day, I will be honest, good, and true. I heed your Call. ’Tis you I seek. From this moment on, there is no other for me but you.”
Relief trembles across her face. Then she smiles—blinding and beautiful. Her expression lights the room like the summer sun after a long, rainy spring. Her joy reaches into my chest and twists everything inside, sparking an answering need to consummate our new bond.
Did my vow somehow compel me to desire her above all others?
You wanted this version of Morgana the moment you stepped into her gallery.
I shove the voice away and focus on my new “wife.” She wanted this. Nothing will stop me from fucking her. She will take every inch of my cock over and over—until I sate fifteen long centuries without satisfaction or she falls limp with exhaustion.
After this night, I will either be mortal again…or Morgana’s pawn for the rest of eternity.
“Touch me?” she whispers, uncertainty cracking her voice.
She looks fragile as she bites her lip, her big eyes questioning.
God’s balls, even hating Morgana with every fiber of my being, even fearing her new ploy will enslave me, I cannot resist. Never have I felt this gnawing hunger for a woman. My need to claim her only grows the longer she lies naked in my bed.
“Everywhere,” I vow, my voice low and rough.
Planting my fists in her hair, I kiss her—her lips, her graceful neck, the swells of her lush tits—losing myself in her female musk. She is heady, like nothing I have ever smelled. Sandalwood tempered with vanilla and a subtle, compelling scent—floral?—I cannot place.
