He moved onto the other nipple as she watched a shadow weave its way into the hole he had left with his fangs, creating a solid bar. She bit her lip, hard enough to draw blood, to keep from crying out. She shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as she was.
“Look at you.” His voice roughened. “Just begging for someone to put you in your place, little witch.”
“Felix,” she breathed out. She was, for one merciful moment, completely empty of everything. Nothing else mattered but the two of them below this willow tree.
His body stiffened. As if she had just reminded him of whose nipples he was sucking on. The cold rushed between them as Felix took a step back, shaking his head out of the spell she must have put him under. His tail lashed behind him, chest heaving to catch a breath. Shame scalded Avery’s cheek as she watched the man who devoured her turn away in anguish, his jaw clenching.
The shadows fell away gently like tattered ribbons; the only one to stay was her new piercing. Her breath rose and fell in time with his, their heartbeat still synce through the bond. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she folded her arms over her chest, the cold seeping into her bones.
Yet there was no pain where she expected it to be. She pulled her arm out, and where there should be a cut, there was nothing, not even a scar.
“Did you…heal me?”
Felix whipped his head toward her, his brows knitting as he looked. Taking a step toward her, he grabbed her arm and thenlooked up at her, a rare look of surprise flickering over his face. “Shifters cannot heal others, witch.”
Understanding settled over her, tingling her skin. “Holyfuck,I have magic.”
Twenty-One
Felix
Felix’s eyeswidened as he stood in front of his bonded witch, a sense of awe swirling in his chest. She had used magic.His magic.The moon shone over her in dappled light, shadows of the tree crawled over her topless form as if they were worshipping her. Felix looked to the stars lest he be tempted again. The meager sliver of control he’d been clinging to had already slipped. It always did with brats who needed to be put in their place. This little witch was going to be his undoing. Her arms shook from the cold, and something within him fought to warm her, cover her. The urge died as he shoved that instinct down and turned it into a snake that coiled within him, ready to strike.
“You took something of mine without permission, little witch.” His lip curled as he spoke.
Shifters couldn’t heal others. It was impossible; it was why the humans needed the witches. Shifters were made to be beasts, for violence and protection. Witches were meant for restoration. Somehow, she had tapped into his magic and made it her own. Like he was a goddamn familiar.No.
“Yourmagic?” she protested.
In one movement, he grabbed her arm and, for the second time that day, made her bleed. She tried to jerk it free, but he only grabbed tighter, earning a hiss as blood poured down onto the forest floor. Its sweet scent enveloped him; he couldn’t hold back any longer. He needed to taste it again. He licked it clean like some sort of deranged beast.
He wiped the blood from his mouth and sucked it off his fingers. “Heal it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You did it once, you can do it again.”
Her lip quivered slightly, but it was enough that knots formed in his stomach, something that might’ve been regret, causing it. Somewhere over the last few days, he had started to hesitate, to think about the pain he caused before he caused it. That wasn’t like him at all. He was a blade, and she was dulling his goddamn edge. He should’ve hated it. Hatedher.She may have been the one bleeding right now, but his fucking heart was bleeding more.
Avery fluttered her eyes shut, and something tugged at the bond. The blood on the ground started to vibrate, ripples violently moving through it.
Every muscle stiffened.What the fuck?
It was small at first,almost unnoticeable. A gentle pull on the bond. Then all at once, a rush of ecstasy flooded his system, unlike anything he had ever felt before. His knees almost buckled, power thrumming within him as he saw the golden threads of their bond weaving around them like trails of fireflies. It took everything in him to stand upright. He barely managed to lean into the tree and look down at the witch whose wound was healing. More than that, he was only inches from her face, andthe need to kiss her pulsed through him as she parted her lips, beckoning him forth.
Worst of all, it felt natural. Like this was what was meant to happen. It made no sense,noneof this made any fucking sense. Only shifter mates had a bond, only witches pulled power from their familiars. Whatever was happening between them was unholy. For a moment, he almost let her have it. Let himself be a vessel for her use, his body begging to give in to her.
The bond purred in his chest, its appetite ravenous for the little witch. It wasn’t sexual, exactly, though there was something undeniably intimate about it, like he was opened, exposed—like she was reaching inside and touching something no one should ever touch.
Magic poured from him, rushing to fill the empty spaces inside her, pieces of a puzzle destined to fit together.
No.No.He wasnota familiar. She was not his mate.
Every rational thought recoiled as his body lapped up the connection. He grabbed his head, clawing at his mind and drawing blood, the hot rivulets running down his face.
No.
He clamped down on the connection, imagining himself severing the line. He pictured himself cutting the golden thread, burning, disintegrating it—anything to make it fade into nothing.
