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“Answer the question, little witchling,” he says as he removes his hand but presses his forehead to mine so that we continue touching.
My entire body is shivering now, desperate to move closer.
There’s still a bond between us, one that could be repaired by giving in to the pull as fate tugs on my soul.
But the conversation is proof of why I should refrain, no matter how difficult it may be.
“They’re monsters,” I say, attempting to focus on the thorn between us.
The reason why I shouldn’t want to kiss him so badly.
“There are many monsters in this world,” he says. His lips are brushing mine now as if he feels this pull just as strongly as I do.
Perhaps the more we talk, the more our kindred death magic knits our souls back together.
We’re a strange pair, one with many layers I want to explore.
“My family is part of the Outcast Coven,” I say, deciding to start at the beginning. Thinking of my father is a pretty good way to squelch my sexual appetite, too. “Or they were. The women in my line are far more powerful than the men, so the patriarchs found a way to control us through a spell that forces a fated-mate bond and simultaneously allows them to leech our power.”
He raises a brow. “Is that possible? To force a fate bond, I mean.”
I know the question in his dark eyes is really asking if the bond between us is fabricated, too.
It’s the same question I share.
“It is,” I confirm. “My sister, Fallon, was put under this spell to Nikolas O’Neely, Daithi’s cousin, by Daithi himself. Nikolas was later executed by King Kaspian for trying to kill the prior king.”
“I remember that,” he says. There’s calculation in his dark eyes, showing intelligence and quick wit as he seems to put all the puzzle pieces together in his mind. “They publicized the fire, but not the event itself. What happened?”
To kill a vampire requires beheading and burning, just to be sure. I was otherwise occupied during the execution, but I know Fallon barely survived it.
“That’s my sister’s tale to tell,” I say, stiffening my body against his touch that has gone to my lower back.
He presses himself closer to me and I allow it, both desperate for him and anxious of what our connection might mean.
“Then whatcanyou tell me?” he asks, his lips tracing mine again in a not-so-subtle kiss.
“That the spell Daithi casts is real. He uses death magic. That’s what the Outcast Coven is known for and it’s capable of manipulating souls.Thismight not even be real, Jasper Justi.”
It could all be just a very, very good impersonation of what a fated mate should feel like.
His fangs brush my mouth, giving my body a small thrill. “It doesn’t feel fake,” he says. “I rejected you, but I still want you.”
“Isn’t that proof enough?” I counter, even as I allow him to slide his thigh between my legs. I liked when he did that before and I’m eager to experience the small pleasure again. “We can barely keep our hands off one another even though we both rejected each other.”
“Hmm,” he agrees, but his body is enveloping mine as he rolls on top of me.
His arousal is a brand against my stomach.
My breasts pillow against his chest. His hard muscles pins me in place, remaining taut as he holds himself still.
And his hair drapes around us, making me feel both dominated and like the center of his world.
“Maybe I don’t care if it’s real or not,” he admits.
It sounds like a dark secret between lovers that I shouldn’t entertain, but his mouth is on mine, his tongue slipping through my lips.
And I can’t stop him.
