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Yet, now I feel like I might be torn apart if I resist the magnetizing pull.
Closing my eyes, I allow it to happen.
My world transforms, swirling in power and magic as I’m sucked through time and space.
The distance I need to travel is short, and I find myself surrounded by familiar walls.
I’ve been in Zyran’s bedroom before. His town house isn’t a place I often frequent, but I’ve come to retrieve him more than once when needed.
Just like those times, I find him in his bed with a female. I never did understand why he had made sure the mattress was a triple king—not even something that could be regularly found. He only slept with one woman at a time, and given his vampiric tendencies, the sheets were a bitch to change. Or at least he’d complained about it more than once.
Now, I see that blood has soaked the bed and splashed onto the pillows and comforter, but it’s not from the witch.
She’sfeeding onhim.
“Ishara?” I ask, both stricken with shock and a fresh wave of desire that has me immediately rock hard.
She snarls as she looks up at me. Through her haze of lust, I notice her once silver eyes are now red.
Not good.
“Zyran. Get away from her,” I order.
Whatever blood- or magic-sharing is going on needs to stop until we understand what’s happening.
“Fuck,” he grounds out when Ishara rolls her hips, sending him deeper inside of her. She claws her nails down his chest, leaving faint red lines. “I’m not going anywhere,” he pants. “But she’s clenching even harder around me now that you’re here. I think… she wants you to fuck her, too.”
I’ve never shared a female with Zy, but I can’t deny the invitation in Ishara’s red eyes. She seems accustomed to conveying what she wants with her expression.
And her full, parted lips and swollen breasts indicate only one thing on her mind. The sight threatens to obliterate all of my logical senses.
She wants me to join her.
She wantsblood.
Something’s not right.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but Ishara seems to have entered into a state of bloodlust. Something I know my brothers are prone to, but somehow, she’s channeling what Zy should be experiencing.
Ishara leans back, riding my brother as her dress inches up her thighs, giving me a gorgeous view.
I want to be the one inside of her. Ineedto be the one stretching her open.
There’s a small, logical part of my brain shouting somewhere in the back of my mind, warning me that something is terribly wrong.
My power only transports me to the site of a massacre. It requires the transfer of five hundred souls for me to portal somewhere.
Maybe that works differently with my fated mate. She’s clearly manipulating death magic in a new way, and she needs me.
Shecalledme.
But to yank me through time and space when it normally takes untold death? That should frighten me.
Instead of keeping my distance, I’m doing the opposite. My knee makes the edge of the mattress dip as I undo the buttons on my shirt. I suddenly find my clothes far too restrictive to tolerate.
Ishara continues to roll her hips on my brother, drawing out her pleasure in a way that has my instincts snarling.
The truth of it is, I’ve been lying to myself.
