Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 48193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48193 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 241(@200wpm)___ 193(@250wpm)___ 161(@300wpm)
Why am I so weak? Why can I not stand up to her magic?
Idalis strokes her fingers lightly through my hair, and this time, the purr of a growl from my wolf escapes out of my mouth. It roughly vibrates up my chest.
I think I see her smile, but I cannot be sure, because my eyes are too heavy to keep open. She is blurrier, and blurrier, and then it is dark. And in the darkness there is comfort and warmth and a peace I’ve never known.
“I should not do this,” I mumble. My orders were not to sleep. They were not to take the witch’s bed and succumb to her magic. They were to—
In this moment, I cannot remember.
I’m fucking tired.
My body is exhausted from the search for the witch and her cottage and from the attempts to summon the portal and from a long, sleepless night spent listening to the rustle of her body on these same sheets.
The bed smells of her, and only of her. No one else has ever slept here. I know it in the marrow of my bones. I nestle deeper into the bedding in spite of myself. Idalis’s fingers are still in my hair. Her nails scratch lightly at my scalp, and another loud groan of gratification slips between my lips and fills the space between us.
“See?” There is fondness in her voice. Perhaps a bit of amusement. When she tugs the blankets up over me, there is nothing I can do to stop myself from settling in. It feels too comforting and too peaceful. I do not think I have ever felt this relaxed before. “You’ll rest,” she murmurs. “And perhaps then whatever has come over this land will pass.”
With her lips at the shell of my ear, and her warmth so close, sleep takes me under.
IDALIS
The desire that clings to me is tempting. It scares me in ways I would never admit. I shouldn’t do it, but I can’t tear myself away from Ryker in my bed. I don’t know what’s come over me. It cannot be a simple curiosity. There’s a pull to him. A desire like none I’ve felt before.
I fear if I were to whisper the confession, everything in my life would change. Goosebumps travel down my arms… Confirmation.
All it took was a wish for his body to know comfort and for safety to surround him. That there was no need to fight his needs. My lips tick up into a smirk remembering how he fought. How he called me a witch. I love it. I’ve never felt such desire from another calling me by such a name.
For some reason, the word on his lips is sinful and divine all at once. It’s unfair, though, that he sees me in such a light when him speaking anything at all to me seems to be a spell of its own. His roughly spoken words and deep baritone voice draws me to him in a way that’s undeniable.
He let himself relax onto the mattress as if he has not felt a comfortable bed underneath him before. Perhaps that’s true. We have not spoken about anything but the portal, and ever so briefly the flowers he was collecting for a wedding. I’m terrified to know more about him, to let myself fall in obsession with this man. I could hardly look at him this morning, I felt so flushed, so wanton, so unlike myself. And then he took that call on his crystal, which piqued my interest.
I let my thoughts wander to his small collection of crystals, telling myself I am forgetting that my fingers are in his hair while I absently keep stroking through it. His dark hair, clean and dry, is softer than I would have expected, and he seems to relish the feeling, even while he is asleep. I wonder what comfort he’s felt before. At the thought, I become jealous. Once again, something I’ve not felt before. My hands still and I place them in my lap, keeping my hands and thoughts to myself.
How is it that those crystals—the ones he used to make contact with the man who must have been his commander—still hold a charge when mine did not work to summon a portal? Something about that is off-balance. Whatever has dampened the power of the crystals across my land should have affected all of them, yet…
It did not. It’s only the portal that’s unable to work. All other magic works. I don’t understand, and in the back of my mind I am reminded of what my elders told me long ago: it’s not for us to understand, it’s for us to accept and be grateful.
It is a rare day that my intuition is so very quiet. Although it is even more rare that my mind is preoccupied with thoughts of another. Absentmindedly, I toy with the small charm on my necklace. It’s a carved obsidian, a stone for protection, in the shape of the moon. I’ve never felt compelled to take the necklace off, but in his presence, I feel as though I don’t need it. I imagine I don’t need to wear a thing in front of him.