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10
Bronywyn
7 Weeks Later
“Home, sweet home,” I announce dryly as I drop my bag onto the floor of the foreclosure I’ve decided will be my new residence. Paid for in cash, off the books—mostly. It’s dingy, having not been lived in for the last five years. Still, it’s got good bones, and I’ve never been one afraid of a little work. Especially not when that work can be done with the raise of my palm.
Speaking of.I raise my hand, and a steady breeze ruffles through the place, taking all the dust, leaves, and dirt out the open door.
Months of running from the Astor sisters, and I think I may finally be able to stay put for longer than a night. Mainly because now I’m too powerful to be stopped. Too practiced. And wouldn’t you know, still the fuck in control.
I haven’t lost myself as they said I would. Haven’t given in completely. They’d been wrong, and since I’m here, I might as well prove it to them. To fix this city’s problems and make it safe. Then, they’ll have to see.
Slamming the door, I roll my shoulders, enjoying the way complete freedom feels. It’s amazing how much weight I was carrying before—how much pain—and all it took was letting go of it all to really step into what I can be.
Nothing else matters.
Just power and more power.
“What do you wish me to do with this, Mistress?”
Glancing over my shoulder at the aged man lifting my bag from the floor, I smile. “Take it up to a room for me. Find the biggest, best one.”
He dips his head. “As you wish.”
“Fantastic.”
Heading down the hallway, I stop just inside the kitchen as a wave of nausea slams into me, so strong it nearly knocks me to my knees. My gut heaves, stomach muscles clenching, and for a brief moment, all of that pain I blocked out is released.
“Not now,” I choke out, stumbling to my knees and pressing my palm against my stomach. I suck in a deep breath, looking like a woman about to go into labor as I try to gain control over the pain. I know what’s causing it, and unfortunately, it’s the reason I’m back in Billings so soon.
I tried to stay away for a while longer.
But this fucking bond with Tarnley is a weakness.
I told you how we get rid of it,the magic, now more like an old friend than something to fear, whispers in my head.
“Not. Now,” I repeat, as the pain begins to steadily fade away, little by little, until all that’s left are sore abdominal muscles and absolutely no appetite. Slowly, I straighten, taking a deep breath and leaning back against the wall.
For the last week, the bond has been tearing me apart. I wake up after night terrors, covered in sweat, my body craving Tarnley so badly I’m honestly concerned that I’m going to spontaneously combust without him.
We’d always believed a blood exchange had to be done once a month, but it wasn’t until this past week—seven days from two months—that I started really feeling the strain. Ever since, it’s been downhill.
So, here I am, back in fucking Billings, Montana, because I need to drink the blood of a vampire. If I were able to feel anything, I imagine I’d be a hell of a lot less annoyed, but I can’t, so I don’t.
Feelings are weak.
And I am anything but weak now.
“I’m going out!” I call through the empty house, before turning on my heel and heading back out into the steadily dimming daylight. Blades tucked in my boot and waist, I’m armed with more than just my magic, and ready for anything.
Well, anything but coming face-to-face with Delaney. That will have to wait. Preferably for all of eternity. My hope is that she’s so wrapped up with her shifter she’s already forgotten about me. Then, I can get in, get the blood I need, and get started on putting down roots all over again.
My plan to become the single, most powerful witch in Billings? Done. Now, I just need to make all the other assholes realize just who I am.
I slide behind the wheel of my black Mercedes and pull out of the driveway, heading straight toward a bar I’d hoped never to walk into again. As I drive, I let my mind wander over the last seven weeks—the places I’ve been, the things I’ve done.
Old Bronywyn wouldn’t have approved, that’s for damn sure. But this new me? She wishes I’d gone even bigger. I slam the pedal down and pick up the speed, letting the adrenaline fuel me as I whip in and out of traffic.
