Page 8 of Forged In Magic

Just like last week, she always flashed to his apartment. And she always had an excuse why. He wasn’t an idiot—he knew staying at his place meant she could leave any time she wanted. It also kept him out of her personal space.

The excuse she’d used last week was that there wasn’t anything to eat in her house. “Nope, conjuring food would have been too difficult,” he muttered to the empty room. The crazy thing was that they barely ate together anyway. He could count on one hand the number of dinners they had eaten together that weren’t in The Magic Plate surrounded by friends and family.

His stomach let out a loud growl, as if it heard him mention food. He sat forward and conjured a sandwich and a glass of water. As he ate, his eyes drifted to his tablet. Waking it up, he glanced at the partially finished sketch. The mosaic of swirls, flowers, and paisley would be feminine and intricate, and large enough to make a statement.

He would tattoo the design in black and gray with touches of turquoise woven throughout. The turquoise would have to be vibrant, a perfect complement to Kate’s thick, red hair.

Isaac sat back against the cushions again, his sandwich finished. Closing his eyes, he pictured Kate’s beautiful body. He could imagine inking the design so that it trailed up one of her long legs, starting on the top of her foot and winding around her ankle before ending at the top of her hip. Picturing his ink on Kate had him thinking back to what she’d looked like when he’d made her come that afternoon.

Using his magic, he removed his clothes and sent them to the laundry basket in his room. With his eyes still closed and his body relaxed, he palmed his cock and stroked himself slowly.

At first, he pictured Kate sitting on her workbench as he’d fucked her with his fingers. He tightened the grip on his dick and jerked faster as he remembered the feeling of Kate getting wetter.

Then his mind moved to the image of the way Kate looked in his shower, water streaming down around them as she rode him. He jacked himself off faster as the memory of her digging her nails into him and yelling his name as she came all over his cock.

That visual sent him over the edge as he moaned and shot his load onto his stomach. When his breathing returned to normal, he conjured a towel and wiped himself off, before sending it to the laundry basket to join his clothes.

A few minutes later, he pushed off the couch and made his way to his bedroom. He hoped to dream of Kate because he sure didn’t know when he would see her again.

3

Kate closed the sliding glass door behind her as she stepped onto her back patio. The mountains weren’t yet visible in the predawn darkness, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t out there for the view. The crisp November air felt good against her skin. Cradling her coffee mug with both hands, she took a strong whiff of one of her favorite scents before taking her first sip.

Leaning back against the outside wall, she propped one foot behind her and stared out into the darkness. Her workshop sat about fifty yards away and she could only just make out its shape because she was looking for it and knew it was there.

The building and everything it contained and represented was her pride and joy. She would never forget the day she’d signed on the dotted line and the two and a half acres with the three-bedroom Craftsman-style home became hers. Two weeks later when building supplies were delivered, and with some magic help from her family and friends, her workshop became a reality—The Stone Forge.

She huffed out a laugh at the memory of announcing the name. Damon had teased her about her lack of imagination. And her brother had been right, using their last name hadn’t been very creative, but she’d shrugged it off.

Damon would never understand what it was like being a female in a male-dominated trade. How she was treated and used. At a hulking six foot three and with his commanding presence, he never had to prove himself the way she had. Never had to worry about men taking advantage of her just because they thought it was their right. But she had. Every. Day.

Putting her name on her business was a statement, and even though she hadn’t justified it to her family, she hadn’t apologized for it either. The Stone Forge was hers and no man would ever be able to take it from her. Not that she associated with anyone who would try. At least not anymore.

Her circle of friends was small now and mostly female, although that was a change after being surrounded by males in her career for so long. A welcome change, though.

She took another sip of her coffee and the image of a certain non-female popped into her mind—Isaac. The man turned her on like no one else had and infuriated her at the same time. A part of her craved time with him, and another part of her wanted to stay far away. If anyone could make her vulnerable, it would be Isaac, but she would never put herself in that position again.

After the attack and the quick fuck in her workshop, she’d spent the rest of that day working. Yesterday she’d ignored Isaac’s two texts and holed up in her shop. It made her a chicken for not responding to his texts, but that didn’t mean she was a coward for protecting her heart. She was losing a grip on what she had wanted with Isaac and she had to get it back.

Friends-with-benefits was all that she was willing to offer, and they had both agreed to it. Looking back, she knew that Isaac had wanted more right from the beginning, but she’d pushed, insisting on only sex or nothing. She’d been so sure she’d be able to keep it at that too. Even though she couldn’t think of a way that Isaac could possibly use her like Ethan or the others had, it didn’t mean Isaac wouldn’t try to control her sooner or later. At some point, Isaac, like all men, would try to put her in a box, where he thought women belonged. He might want her to work less so she could spend more time with him or look after their home, or give up her work to support him in his.

Like a coward, she’d hidden from the world yesterday and the night before. She wouldn’t have talked to anyone if Jack hadn’t called to let her know what the mirrors had revealed.

Now it was time. Instead of disappearing her coffee mug, she used her magic to clean it and went back into the house to put it away. After a quick stop in the bathroom, she tied her hair back and flashed to the inside of her shop.

The cinderblock walls didn’t help keep the place warm when she wasn’t using her forge, so she sent her magic out, clicking on the heaters and the lights. No matter how long she’d been a swordsmith, the anticipation of getting to create something from almost nothing sent anticipation running through her veins.

Today was no different, and yet it was. Her anticipation was cranked to a hundred. Jack said the mirrors revealed a sword, and he would send it to her today. That had been a surprise as she’d been expecting a piece of metal that she would make the needed lock from. Forging a lock from a sword didn’t make much sense, but then, magic wasn’t logical. If their ancestors thought storing the magic metal in the shape of a sword was the best solution, then who was she to argue?

Since she didn’t know when Jack would bring the sword by—he had only said in the morning—or what she’d need to do, she wouldn’t heat up her forge yet. She’d been so excited to see the sword that she’d wanted Jack to bring it by yesterday when he’d called, even though it had been late in the evening.

The sword had already killed one person and Jack had wanted to check with other council leaders to make sure it would be safe for her before he called her. Which explained the lateness of his call.

Kate went to her computer to check on new orders and ones she had in the pipeline. She’d been at it about twenty minutes when Jack sent her a telepathic message.

Incoming. I’ll stop by tonight.

She looked up just as a bundled package appeared on her workbench.

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