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Now, whoever was at my door was keeping me from drowning myself in that fantasy. That fantasy and a good bit of scotch.
Grumbling, I made my way downstairs to the door, the knocking growing more incessant with each passing minute.
I pulled back the curtains and peered out at Lana Rogers.
Shit.
Opening the door, it was immediately clear the witch was on the verge of her heat. A day if not mere hours. It was a testament to how well the drug they’d given Claire worked that I didn’t react to her nearness. Typically, that swell of heat magic, the scent of a witch’s slick, would send an unmated warlock into a drive to rut the witch before him. With me, there wasn’t even a twitch of my cock.
“Lana,” I greeted her, wanting to get her on the road and perhaps to the heat lodge as soon as possible. I might not physically react to the sight, smell, and magic of a witch in heat, but that didn’t mean I wanted her caterwauling around my cabin for the next few hours while I frantically searched for someone to assist me in getting the witch contained.
“I need you, Jack,” Lana purred, pushing past me and into the cabin. I didn’t bother shutting the door behind us. My goal was to get rid of her quickly. “Haven’t you always wondered why I’m so drawn to you?”
She’d turned to face me, her body practically vibrating with need. Right then, I almost wished I could take her. Wished I could burn off some of this need and ache that constantly surged through my body.
But she wasn’t Claire, and therefore, she would never do.
“I don’t, actually. More often, I remember that you have a mate at home. A mate who should tend to you instead of a warlock that you barely know.”
She scoffed, throwing up her hands.
“Do you know how terrible it is to be forced to bond with someone?” She paced as she gestured wildly. “When we were first bonded, I was convinced that it would work because my body reacted to him all the time. And his to mine. Gods, the heats. The rutting. There was nothing like it. I was certain that everything they had ever said about arranged bonds was wrong because, back then, there was nothing more that I wanted than that man.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. The words ‘I don’t want to hear this’ were on the tip of my tongue, but morbidly, I wanted to know what she would say.
“Here’s what they don’t tell you about force bonds,” she continued, still pacing. Still waving her hands around as if she were conducting an orchestra. “Unlike real bonds, the drive eventually wears off. You start to hate each other. I hate him. I’m pretty sure he hates me. I hate my family for pressuring me into the bond. And I hate myself for not having the nerve to stand up to any of them and say no.”
My throat felt dry. It felt as if I were swallowing a rock. I wanted to contradict her, but I knew why I wanted to contradict her and I hated myself for it.
She turned suddenly from her pacing, stopping, and walking right up to me. Only a few inches now separated us.
“What if you were meant to be my warlock, Jack? What if that’s the reason I keep coming to you? What if it was supposed to be us all along and that force bond stole it from both of us? Maybe if we just…”
Lana reached up, running her hands down my chest. I waited for my cock to react. Surely, I couldn’t be this close to this witch and not react to her. Her body pressed more fully to mine.
I could see the moment she realized it. She looked down between us, her eyes focusing on my crotch.
The gray sweatpants hid nothing. There it was, but it was decidedly not ready to play.
“How is it you have absolutely no reaction to me?” she breathed. She squinted her eyes as she looked back up at my face. “Are you interested in warlocks?”
How much easier would that have been? The drug would have never worked on me, and Claire would have been free to pursue her own match. She wouldn’t be in danger of becoming what this witch before me had become.
“No,” I answered honestly.
“Then what is it? What’s wrong with me, Jack? I know I can’t be completely unattractive. And I’m about to go into heat. You should be uncontrollable right now.”
“I’m mated, Lana,“ I said, the words coming out clipped, but I couldn’t help but relish the sound of them. I’d never told anyone that Claire was my mate. I’d told Sebastian about the drug and some of what had happened that night. He had figured out the rest. But I’d told no one that I had a mate. A mate who had no choice.
And even as right as it sounded, there was still that hollow ache in the pit of my stomach.
“You’re mated?” Lana nearly shrieked. “Since when? Every unmated witch in Mystic Springs has had their eye on you for years, hoping they’d be the one to present for you. Are you telling me that there’s a witch out there who has presented for you?”
“That’s what I’m saying.”
“Well, who is she?” Lana demanded. “If you’re mated, why isn’t she here with you now? If you were my mate, I’d never let you out of my sight.”
I ran my hand through my hair. I wanted to run from this cabin as fast as I could. Lana could have it.
