30
The same agony I know now
KADE
Zara moves around the room freely, washing as if her body isn’t sore. I used her well last night and I’m fucking sure her legs ache. I’m even more certain that her cunt’s sore and the temptation to fuck her to find out is an idea I’m contemplating.
In my defense, I let her have some sleep, despite my overwhelming need to claim her again and again. And I didn’t fuck her while she slept, finding other ways to use her for my benefit. Zara thinks her body’s sticky from her exertion, and I’m not going to tell her that at least some of it is from when I came on her through the night.
I needed to mark her in every way—and I did.
She felt the heat as my magic branded her skin, but I’m not sure she understood what was happening. Not entirely. I wasn’t going to enlighten her and her reaction makes no difference now. My insignia rests in the center of her back andI own the girl, and every other warlock will know my claim, even if they cannot see the tattoo.
It’ll protect her from any other fucker who even thinks about meddling with her. That includes Darius and Galen, but more importantly, it includes Malric. The old warlock showed an unhealthy interest in her and I won’t leave her exposed to him and his sadistic tendencies, blood weave or not. Now, he’ll test her, but he won’t dare break one of our most sacred traditions.
He knows it’ll mean annihilation—for him, and any of his living relatives, and all of those I deem to be allied with him. He won’t risk my wrath and at least I know Zara will be relatively safe now.
Relatively.
I might not be. Not when she sees the mark for the first time. It helps that it’s on her back and I fucked her hard enough to ease the pain as it happened. The blood weave wouldn’t have let me do it if it wasn’t for the best, but that doesn’t mean Zara will be happy about it. Once she realizes she’s mine, she’ll be a hellion of fury, a maelstrom of anger.
Such is her nature, and I cannot say I blame her.
I stare at the dark ink coiled beneath her skin, admiring its hues as they darken and settle into something magnificent. The mark that sits low on her back looks like it’s an intrinsic part of her, a brand she was always meant to bear. The crescent moon, sharp and jagged, sits on her spine and its points are entwined by thorned vines that coil with deadly elegance.
The design is seamless, as though it was carved into her very flesh; no other hand or mark allowed to alter it. Surrounding the moon, runes flicker softly, their ancient edges glowing with a faint, otherworldly light. My emblem is perfect, and it’s perfection on her skin.
But now is not the time to discuss this, nor to delay. Sheneeds to get dressed and we need to leave as fast as we fucking can. I’d rather not deal with my brothers this morning, not when they’ll have slept badly after our fuckfest.
“Ready?” I sigh.
Zara isn’t, but she’s trying my patience, and she needs the push. She starts dressing and rolls her eyes, and I ignore the shit out of her insolence. We’ll be working on manners just as soon as she accepts her place, and it can’t happen soon enough.
But first, we need to deal with the blood weave.
I don’t want it broken, and she only wants it weakened. She hasn’t said as much, but I’m certain she doesn’t want to sever it completely. Zara believes that she won’t have a choice while it’s in place, but she’s beginning to understand that there’s more than one way to make a decision. Free will and the blood weave aren’t mutually exclusive, and even if they were, she’s coming around to the idea that it’s better to be with me than without.
She’s realized that the magic she gains from me strengthens hers, as hers strengthens mine. That makes me stronger, and while it also increases Zara’s power, she cannot hurt me and the weave lets me manipulate her. I’ve decided that overall it’s for the best, and now I just need the annoyingly stubborn witch to come to the same conclusion.
I watch as she covers her fucking glorious body and it’s a shame. Maybe we’ll reach a place where she’s content to be naked around me, wearing fuck all and ready for me to use whenever I want. I could be persuaded to give her a collar and that delicate, pale skin of hers would look fantastic with a harsh leather choker around her neck.
My cock hardens at the thought, and I turn around, ignoring the urge to fuck her again.
“We need to go, kitten,” I growl, adjusting my dick. “Malric will need time, and we can’t afford to let Darius or Galen figureout what we’re doing.”
“I’m going as fast as I fucking can,” she spits back. “I’d be faster if you hadn’t been such a dick last night.”
I smirk and tilt my head. “I rarely let fucking filthy whores come on my cock as often as you did last night, Zara. Don’t make me regret my generosity. I’ll start rationing your orgasms unless you show some fucking respect.”
She swallows and adjusts her top, still showing no sign she’s aware of the tattoo that marks her as my property. My smirk widens and I assume Zara thinks it’s because of my snide comment and not because I know she belongs to me now.
“Ready,” she huffs, brushing past me as she heads to the door.
“Manners,” I sigh and she stops dead. “You need to try to be the obedient wife in front of my brothers. For now, at least.”
She crosses her arms, and her spine straightens. Her magic scorches as it lights in anger, and I’m glad she’s reaching for and controlling it. Zara is learning to command her magic, and she’s becoming calmer and more discerning. Instead of lashing out, she pauses and reflects. Instead of erupting, she contains herself.It’s a stark contrast to the chaos she brought with her when we first met.
Then, she was all impulse and raw emotion, a storm too wild to tame.
