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“Mark my words, Alienor,” he growls loud enough to make the birds launch themselves into the sky. “One day, I will find my way through your defenses. When I do, I will make you scream for mercy.”
I turn around and sprint toward the house.
No force on this earth would convince me to remove that locket, but it will be useless if I lose my magic. I’m all the more determined to prove to Grandma and the rest of the coven that I’m not crazy.
Because if I fail, I’ll die under the claws of the Boogie Man.
ChapterNine
HENRY
Alienor picks up her skirts and runs deeper into the warded property, leaving me throbbing. I stroke harder, faster, my gaze tracking her as she darts through the orchard. Before I can get close to the edge, she disappears into the cottage.
I lean my head against the invisible barrier and snarl. “Isn’t it enough that you made me faithful only to you? I am a monster now and cannot get release.”
The ache in my cock won’t subside, no matter how much I try to distract myself from the sight of my worthless wife.
My animosity toward Alienor had been cooling.
I saw the desire in her eyes, the hitch in her breath. She had wanted to step through the barriers to touch me, to have a taste. Marvel shone in her eyes, tinged with lust. I could have had her kneeling before me with that pink tongue running over my cockheads.
A groan resounds in my throat. I should have known that talk of her imminent death would turn her mood sour. She pulled away from me, and now my animosity burns hotter than the sun.
My claws lengthen, and I tear at the magic separating me from her. It’s a mix of the power of multiple women, all joined together by a shared ancestor.
I was not Alienor’s first husband. Before she married me, she was wed to King Louis VII of France. They had two daughters, but the king annulled their marriage because she couldn’t give him a son.
The women whose magic forms the barrier are not my kin—they’re the ancestors of one or more of Alienor’s daughters with King Louis. I have no sway over their magic.
The barrier presses against my hard cock, creating a delicious surge of friction. I rub against it and try to work up a climax. The curse should work against any of Alienor’s descendants, shouldn’t it? Sweat beads on my brow as I thrust my hips and pick up speed.
Crackles of magic dance across my shaft and sizzle in the spaces between my heads.
“You like that?” I growl.
It gives the leather coating over my balls a playful slap.
“Yes.” I elongate the vowel. “Take it. Take it all, like a good girl.”
After several minutes of working myself to the brink of climax and circling that edge, even I have to realize this is futile. Without Alienor’s presence or even her soiled underwear, I cannot climax.
My jaw clenches. There is only one way to end this torment.
I fold my wings behind my back, and my body contorts. My ears stretch toward the sky, and my teeth length and sharpen. Fur sprouts from my skin, and I land on my front paws.
There. Erection gone. I never get aroused in my four-legged form.
The mingled scents from the orchard fill my nostrils, combined with the powerful aroma of witch magic. Not just Alienor’s but all the women of her family. I bare my teeth in a snarl. Perhaps I should also tear them apart when I get the chance?
Movement from deeper in the grounds triggers my drive to hunt, and my gaze snaps to the larger dwelling on the other side of the property. It’s the grandmother, leaving on her broomstick. I run around the grounds of her estate, trying to follow, but when she flies too far, I switch back to my two-legged form.
My wings slice through the air as I fly to catch up. The grandmother has changed her outfit into the type of thin chemise modern women wear in the summer.
I glide closer, but just as before, her bubble of protective magic is impenetrable. She is a formidable woman with glowing skin, sparkling blue eyes, and silver hair. I see tiny traces of Alienor in her delicate nose and full lips, and I wonder if this is what my wife would have looked like had she not cursed me to die.
“Good boy,” she croons and rubs the shaft of her broomstick.
“Are you talking to me?” I ask.
