Page 8 of Witch’s Heart

“When you decided to start talking to me again,” he snapped.

She scoffed. “Right.”

“Mina…don’t do this.” He wasn’t sure what this he was referring to. Leaving? Fighting with him? Both?

“My mind is made up on the matter,” she said. He exhaled, resigned. “I will speak to the head witch about what you mentioned. I am certain she will have more information, perhaps what we need to seal the portal once and for all. You never wanted to be king, Rixon. Removing the need to tithe blood changes everything. Don’t you want that?”

His shoulders slumped. He did want that, but it was too late to abandon the throne now. Still, eliminating the tithe would make everything so much better. Only, he was afraid to hope. But if anyone could fix this, it was his lady witch.

“I don’t know how to live without you,” he admitted, the words free before he could stop them.

Her face softened. “Hopefully you won’t have to—not for long.” She hesitated, then took a step away from him. “I should get going.”

Panic flared in his chest and he lunged for her, pulling her against him. He took her mouth captive before she could speak any commanding words that might stop him. He would not allow her to leave without kissing him goodbye.

Gods, if he had his way, he’d fuck her here against the wall. A proper goodbye. As it was…

A strangled, desperate sound left her lips, like she was resisting. Then her resistance crumbled and she kissed him back. It was a mess of anger and desperation. Tongues lashing and teeth clacking. Searing desire shot straight to his balls, tightening them.

He threaded his fingers into her hair and twisted, wrenching a deeper, more demonic sound from her throat. Her hands clawed at his back. The length of her nails grew elongated. He caught the rip of fabric and didn’t care.

The wet taste of her was his undoing. He lost himself in their battle of wills, letting her devour him. The thought of missing weeks of this when he’d already missed so much made his breaths come faster. It made him desperate.

He slammed her against the wall, engulfing her delicate throat with his hand, squeezing. His cock sprang to life, painful against his pants. He ground his hips against her, forcing the breath from her lungs, trapping it beneath his hand.

“Oh, gods,” she managed, coming up for air when he released her.

“Stay, and we can continue this,” he growled. “Stay, and I’ll fuck you like I’ve never fucked you before. We don’t have to fix things in order to fuck. We can do it angry—as angry as you like. You can punish me a thousand times over for what I’ve done.”

Her eyes flashed at the offer. He saw the desire there, clear as day. For a moment, he thought he had her. “Think of all the things you might do to me,” he taunted. “All the ways you might make me suffer. You can hurt me. You can cut out my fucking heart, if it means you’ll stay.”

She blinked. The glaze of lust faded from her eyes. She gave her head a little shake, then pushed against him.

He faltered, then backed up.

“Don’t—you don’t get to make this harder than it already is. Not after what you’ve done.”

His chest wrenched. “Is this hard for you?”

He waited, dangling over the edge. If she said no, it might break him. She stared back at him as her chest rose and fell in rapid pants.

“Is it?!” he demanded. “Answer the fucking question, Mina. Is this as hard for you as it is for me?! Tell me!”

“Yes!” she cried. Her expression crumbled. He finally saw the vulnerability in her eyes and it was a blessed fucking relief. “Yes it’s hard! But I’m so fucking mad at you—” She stoped herself, then regained her composure. More quietly she said, “I’m so fucking mad at you, Rxion. Aleksander. I want to rip your fucking face off. I want to make you hurt. To destroy you. I want to cut you open, carve out your insides, then crawl inside and sew you back together. To hide inside you forever.”

Where she’d be safe. Where he could protect her from the world. Where he could adore her and cherish her.

What remained of his anger melted away, his insides melting with it. Gods, this woman…

“Do it,” he challenged. “Destroy me.”

A small sob rose up from her chest and she pressed a hand over her mouth, shaking her head. “No. We’ll discuss this—us—when I return. I need time, like I told you. I have my obligations, just as you have yours.”

His jaw flexed. “When will you return?”

“I don’t know…” she whispered hoarsely. “Three weeks? Four?”

“That’s too fucking long and you know it.” The journey would take nearly a week. That was two for a round trip—already two too long. But what else could he do? “You’ll send word—the moment you arrive, you will write to me, let me know you are safe.” She didn’t respond. “The moment you arrive, Mina. Swear it. I want to hear you say it.”