“A familiar.” Her voice quivered.
A burst of hysterics bubbled in his throat. He couldn’t help it. She wanted a shifter as a familiar? She wantedhim? Over his fucking dead body.
The way she knitted her eyebrows as if she was confused only made him laugh harder. The little witch had picked the wrong creature.
Witches used familiars like personal batteries to power their magic, magic that they had used to tear shifters apart in the many wars between their species. Familiars were animals, not shifters. He had no interest in becoming a battery, but even if he did, the whole thing was impossible; this witch was delusional if she thought she could bond him. How she summoned him in the first place was an entirely different question.
He moved toward her in the darkness, his footsteps lighter now, echoing through the void. She couldn’t track his movement, even when he was only an arm’s length away from her. Something inside screamed to touch her, to run his claws through that long hair. He shoved it down to the deepest part of himself, locking it in its cage.
As amusing as this was, he had had enough. The witch was clearly going to try something, and he wanted no part in it. She flinched as he moved behind her, and a traitorous part of him swelled low within him. He was close enough now to scent her, and to his horror, it was intoxicating. It was like the honeysuckles that only bloomed deep in the forest, sweet and citrusy all at the same time. Involuntarily, he licked his tongue over his fangs, wanting to sink them into her slender neck.
He took a step back.Fucking witches.
“I—” she hesitated.
“What’s the matter, little witch?” He leaned in next to her ear for dramatic effect, and she flinched away again at the sound in the smoke around them. The witch was not as tough as she made herself out to be.
“Cat got your tongue?” It wouldn’t have made sense to anyone but him, but at least he amused himself. He shouldn’t even be speaking with her. Shouldn’t beherewith her.
She fluttered her eyes shut. Concentrating on something. She opened her mouth to speak, another language flowing from her tongue. An incantation. She really was trying to bond him.
Absolutely the fuck not.
Light erupted between them. A ribbon-like thread, golden and pulsing with magic, materialized from her chest.
No.
No, no, no.
Dread coiled tight in his stomach. The thread stood still for a moment, hovering between them. Before he could react, it moved like a serpent in water; the thread found him, piercing through his rib cage like a spear. He felt it test him, he felt it inside him, the serpent circling inside of him looking for its final meal. Somehow, this witch was bonding him.
“What are you doing?” he snarled, all pretense of amusement gone. He grabbed the thread, but his fingers passed through it.
“What the fuck did you DO?”
She didn’t react, didn’t even hear him as he yelled at the top of his lungs.
“BREAK IT,”he roared.
He lunged forward, grabbing at her, but like the thread, his hands passed right through her. The thread stretched but didn’t snap.
“Break it right now, witch!”
Her chanting only increased, louder, the voice swirling around his head as if it were inside him. The thread pulsed brighter. Something was changing. The darkness around them began to fracture, the night sky becoming visible, a bloodred moon flooding them. He felt the thread binding itself to him; he felt it in his veins, like a poison.
“Let me go.” His voice came out strangled. “Whatever spell you cast, I don’t care. Let. Me. Go.”
He was almost driven to beg, to get on his knees and plead, something he had never done for anyone. He couldn’t be bonded to a witch. His mind searched for an answer, racking his brain for any solution. His body cracked at the seams as he pushed it toward an unyielding wall. It held steady, refusing to do the very thing that was natural to him. Panic clawed at his throat, real, chest-crushing, panic.
The monster within him grew restless and yearned to be let out of its cage. It was always a gamble; sometimes it would tear him apart for days after, and he’d be bed-bound, his body punishing him for losing control. But right now, he needed the monster.
His shadow form took over, towering above the small witch who was oblivious to the beast in front of her. Limbs and tendrils of shadow grew outward, and with them, his mind darkened until he lost himself within it. His shadow monster let out a deafening roar, giant claws slashing at the threads that refused to break as more erupted from the tether between them. The gold ribbons swirled like magical vines, twisting and pulling at his armor of shadows. But it was a losing battle. The main thread between them glowed, blindingly so.
The thread snapped taut. Something that shouldn’t be possible, pulling them closer. He could feel her now, her fear, her confusion, her rapid heartbeat pounding in his head in timewith his own. He felt the edges of her fear claw with his own. He let out a bellowing roar that only fell on deaf ears.
Fuck,fuck.
The little witch had bonded him.
