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I take a moment to gauge my surroundings. It’s a nice entryway with an old painting—too bad it has too much dust on it for me to discern the image.
A chandelier boasts a thick array of cobwebs and the shadows stretch into a living area.
“Do your thing, little witch,” Zy says, then removes my collar with a wink.
My magic resides in death—something that’s of abundance here. These abandoned areas have been mired in the stillness of death for years.
I smile as my magic comes back to the surface, then utter the words of restoration that use that deathly power to turn back time of certain objects.
Because I don’t mind showing off just a little bit.
My magic sweeps out with shadows, lighting the candles and sending the cobwebs curling, then heads to the living area. The furniture lightens in color and the fabric ripples with its original texture.
Even though I would like to see what this place looked like in its early days, I can’t restore the whole place. The point is to make it believable and my magic is supposed to be limited to that of a single witch—not one with three powerful mates.
“Royce will think I’ve been hiding here,” I say, satisfied as I summon empty dishes and ashes to the hearth. With a snap of my fingers, I add a log that’s still burning. “I would have made myself comfortable for a few days while waiting for my sister to find me.”
It’s ironic that the plan includes making it look like I’d do exactly what I would have done had I not found my fated mates.
Fallon always came to my rescue and it wouldn’t have been the first time I hid away in a quiet place, awaiting her strength to pull me from the mire.
It feels good to be able to handle myself for once.
“There she is,” Zy says with pride. “My little witch ready forfun.”
He guides me to the sofa and strips off his shirt, allowing me to see the silver chain with Jewel’s emblem on it glinting over his skin.
He sits me down, then goes to his knees between my legs. I curl my fingers through his hair while I toy with the chain with my free hand. “Why do you have this?” I ask.
“It was my mother’s,” he says as he runs his strong hands over my thighs.
I know that he mentioned his mother had treated it like prayer beads, but that’s not what I meant. “But where didsheget it?”
“I wish I knew,” he says with a guarded tone. I know it’s a sensitive subject, but it’s an important detail. I’d like to know if Jewel had planned all this or if it’d truly been instinct on her part. “My mother had a friend who watched us sometimes. She would stay the day, which was equivalent to overnight for a vamp, and get up just before the sun went down. My father is like most older vampires and he dislikes the sun, so it gave her a chance to talk to us.”
I didn’t have to read between the lines to know that this woman was likely one of Zane’s mistresses.
Zy slips my dress up, inching it over my legs to reveal skin. He presses light kisses on the inside of my thigh when I talk. I continue to stroke my fingers through his silky hair. “And what would she tell you?”
“Stories,” he says between kisses. He keeps his gaze on me, feeding me magic and truth all at the same time. “Such as the power of desire. My father desired my mother, and so fate gave her to him. My mother desired a child, and this necklace came into her life with the promise of a death goddess listening on the other side. It was a story she believed in, and so she made it true.”
“That sounds like a nice story.”
He trails his sharp fangs down my skin, leaving a pink line. The threat of his bite makes my heart skip a beat. “It was a lesson more than a story. She wanted me to know that I could have everything I want in life, but there will be a price. If my mother had really stopped to think about what it would cost her to have us, I wonder if I’d exist.”
“You would,” I say, gripping his hair at the roots and forcing him to look at me. “Because you’re mine, Zyran Justi. I’d rip apart time itself to make sure you existed if I had to.”
The melancholy of childhood memories leaves his brilliant gaze, replaced with adoration. “You would, wouldn’t you? You’d find some old, dusty book that had dirty promises and it would get you all hot for the mates you were supposed to have.”
I chuckle when he tugs against my grip and leans into me, running his tongue over the side of my breast where I had cut myself.
“Don’t damage the look I’m going for,” I chide, but seeing my blood on his tongue is doing darkly delicious things to me.
“But, I was thinking. Wouldn’t a vampire go for thicker veins? Like these?” He goes between my legs and kisses the inside of my thigh again before swirling his tongue over one of the veins. “It’s right here. I can see it throbbing for a bite.”
“I did want to go for a realistic look,” I agree on a short breath.
Zy is getting to me and he knows it.
