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That was the kind of power that could change everything.
I guess she wasn't the reject she believed herself to be.
And, I imagined, her coven had no idea they'd sent us the most powerful witch we'd seen in generations.
I should have been running from my room to find Ace to tell him, to share this new information and discuss all the ways it might change everything forever for us.
We should have all been gathering in the study to have a drink, toasting to the end of all our troubles.
But, no.
I'd told her to keep it to herself.
I planned to keep it to myself.
It made no sense.
It was disloyal.
And it would all be for nothing, because, eventually, they were all going to find out.
Then, well, I had no idea.
I wasn't exactly doing Lenore a kindness by keeping her secret. I was, at best, just buying her more time to be a prisoner in our home.
That said, a prisoner was likely better than what may lay ahead for her if the truth got out.
I went ahead and had that drink, though it wasn't for celebration, but rather guilt that needed drowning.
The sun was high in the sky before I finally climbed into my bed.
All in all, the party was a success. We'd done what we all set out to do. It was maybe the wildest of all our parties, in fact.
I should have been focusing on that.
Instead, my mind was plagued with other thoughts.
A short skirt.
No panties.
The heady, sweet smell of her.
The feel of her tight pussy pulsating around my fingers.
The sound of my name on her lips as she came.
My cock was rock-hard in seconds at the memory, pride flooding my system at the memory of her body racked with aftershocks from the power of her orgasm.
Raw and untouched; that was what the witch was.
Innocence had never been appealing to me before.
Corruption was fun, of course, stoking that baseness in all human beings. But virgins were too easy. The challenge was more fun. Besides, what I did for work, and what I enjoyed personally, physically, were different things.
I'd fucked a virgin or two in my day, but a long, long time ago. Back before I realized that it wasn't as fun as fucking someone who knew what they were doing, who sucked like a porn star, begged for what they wanted, and could take a dick without crying about it.
Virgins weren't my fetish.
I avoided them completely.
And yet...
"Fuck," I hissed, reaching down to free my cock, stroking it to the memory of how openly the witch had responded to me, the sounds she made, the way her fingers clawed at me.
I came faster than a guy first touching his junk.
Harder, even.
Leaving me no less aching after I cleaned up and got ready for bed.
Shit was getting too fucking complicated.
The witch.
My reaction to her.
The way she said jump and I leapt.
Giving her a garden.
Letting her cook.
Buying her clothes and girl shit.
Allowing her to join the party.
Touching her.
Then fucking telling her to keep her powers secret.
What the fuck was going on with me?
Whatever it was, it had to stop. And for that to happen, I guess I needed to stay away from the witch.
Apparently, though, it would be easier said than done.
Chapter Nine
Lenore
"Witch?" a voice called, making me jolt out of my daydream.
In my mind, I had drifted back to Yule—the winter solstice—celebration with my coven. I had always enjoyed the colder seasons best.
In the days leading up to Yule, we would gather pinecones, would make garlands to frame the doors. We would bake sweet treats, and make homemade gifts for one another.
My mother always knitted new cold weather items—shawls, mittens, scarves, thick socks.
I had always found my fingers clumsy with needles.
But I had always been rather good with art.
Each year, I would dedicate myself to designing one new card to a deck of oracle cards I created, giving each person closest to me a new one. I had been working on them since I was fifteen.
I guessed, now, the deck would never be completed.
My heart ached at the idea of my mother's face not lighting up as she unwrapped the linen I would put it in, running her finger lovingly over the picture, asking me what the image stood for, how she would interpret it in an oracle reading.
Someone else would step in to make sure my mother wasn't alone for the holiday. They would have her in their homes, and would give her gifts. She would be taken care of.
That was a comfort, of sorts.
My heart hammered hard in my chest as I folded up in bed, realizing the voice didn't belong to Lycus. Or Ace. Or Drex. Not even the woman from the night of the party, Red.
No.
This was someone I hadn't met yet.
And with that came new worries.
About their intentions.
"Go away," I demanded, grabbing the blanket off the bed, holding it in front of me.
