“What’s the phrase?” Rosalie asked before grimacing. “Wait, is that rude to ask?”
“Not at all. The phrase is by my power, flame and flower,” Cece said.
“But you don’t have either of those?” Rosalie asked.
“No. Up until a couple of weeks ago, I thought I was an apprentice witch, and their magic isn’t really powerful enough to need something like that,” Cece said. “Apprentice witches learn witchcraft rather than being born with magical abilities, and they’re not as powerful as blood witches. Apprentice witches mostly practice folk magic. Some blood witches look down on them, especially for the folk magic, but it plays an important role in the witching community. Folk magic can be powerful in its own right, and both humans and paranormal beings benefit from it. Lots of witches and warlocks make their living from folk magic spells and potions for humans and paranormals.”
“Hudson told me that you just found out you were a blood witch. That must have been a shock,” Rosalie said.
“Definitely,” Cece said. “I’d only been an apprentice witch for about eight months, and I wasn’t even a very good one, to be honest. I mostly concentrated on creating potions, which, for simple potions, is basically the easiest magic for an apprentice witch to practice. I wanted to start my own potion shop someday. I knew I wouldn’t be able to create really powerful ones like Charissa, but again, there’s plenty of humans and paranormals in need of simple folk magic potions. Anyway, I’ve learned different spells and could perform some of the simpler ones with a lot of practice and concentration, but that was about it. Until…”
She glanced at Briggs, her cheeks heating up. She’d had a taste of the more powerful magic lurking inside of her when she’d first met him outside the hospital.
“Until?” Rosalie prompted.
“Um…” Cece didn’t know what to say. Explaining what a conduit was and that Briggs was hers would be embarrassing in front of people she barely knew.
“Until she beat up Briggs with a tree,” Hudson said.
Briggs growled, and Rosalie giggled. “Oh my God, that’s right. Hudson told me about that.”
“Do you keep anything to yourself, Hudson?” Briggs sighed.
Hudson shrugged. “Rosalie is my mate.”
“For what it’s worth, she did not beat me up with a tree. I had everything under control,” Briggs said.
“Sure you did,” Hudson laughed.
“It was an accident,” Cece said. “I didn’t mean to nearly crush him with a tree. In fact, I nearly crushed us both.”
Do you want to be fucked, little witch?
Her face went scarlet at the memory of Briggs growling that at her while thick pine branches surrounded them.
She cleared her throat. “Most blood witches go through a type of magical puberty, and it usually happens when they’re going through actual puberty. Their magic grows stronger, and they have to learn to harness it. But it can happen earlier or later with some blood witches, and I’ve learned recently through some research that an extreme emotional reaction can trigger it.”
“You thought Hudson and Briggs were kidnapping your friend Elora, right?” Rosalie said. “Do you think that’s what kick-started your magic?”
“Yes,” Cece lied.
Well, maybe not a complete lie. Watching Hudson carry Elora out of the hospital had brought out the most powerful magic surge she’d ever felt. Until Briggs touched her.
She had no doubt that his touch was what led to the explosion of her magical abilities. The power that had rushed through her, the heady feel of her magic, still called to her now, and while she could ignore it all she wanted, her need to touch Briggs, to fuck Briggs, was growing stronger by the day.
If she didn’t figure out a way to stop her father’s family from attacking her, she’d end up making Briggs some kind of sexual servant to her, and if she could do something that heinous, whose to say the lure of using dark magic wouldn’t be next? Her magic pulsed as her fear spiked. Being captured and sentenced to life imprisonment in a magic suppressed cell for practicing dark magic would be a fate worse than death. She’d die alone and -
“Little witch, look at me.”
Briggs’s voice penetrated her growing panic, and she stared wide-eyed at him. “Briggs…”
“You’re okay,” he said. “Take some deep breaths.”
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
“Yes,” he said, his voice low and soothing. “Take a breath, baby.”
She did what he said, sucking air in through her nose and holding it deep in her lungs before releasing it. She inhaled and exhaled, holding Briggs’s gaze until both the panic and the magic in her body eased.
