Heart Mates - 2nd Edition

by Mary Hughes

  He thrust a finger inside her. His gold eyes flew up to hers. “Damn me, Sophia. You’re already burning hot.”

  “Me? What about you?” She ground herself against his finger. “More.”

  He drove a second finger into her. He fell on her clit again with his slapping tongue and sucking mouth and masculine hunger.

  She gloried in it, grabbing him by the ears and pulling and grinding harder. Her pearls rose and fell with her rapidly undulating chest, jewelry that, for the first time, wasn’t staid and conservative but provocative and sexy with her nipples hard as nuts beyond them.

  His fingers rode in and out of her pussy and he changed to straight sucking until her clit was hard and aching and she thought he’d draw her entire body out through it. “Noah…stop sucking and fuck me now. Please.” She wailed it and somehow halfway through it changed to an eerie howl.

  “You’re so aroused. So very beautiful.” His eyes were bright gold between her thighs. “Come for me first, my beautiful mate.”

  “No, I want—argh!”

  He latched onto her pussy and sucked for all he was worth.

  It was too much. She exploded in a sweet nova of bright stars. Too bright. She squeezed her eyes shut and thrashed against him as he tongue-whipped her clit to extend the orgasm.

  Her wolf gloried in it. Her human was temporarily blitzed. She lay pliant as he shucked his pants. His erection had engorged to monstrous. He knelt between her wet, yielding thighs and fitted himself to her. The head of his cock pressed and spread her.

  She was suddenly aware of the size of him versus the size of her, a second after it was too late.

  He drove himself into her slick sex. To the hilt.

  She gasped down to her toenails. He filled her and more. “You’re…big, face to face. Wait.”

  He let out an intense groan. “Do you want me to stop?”

  He was stretching her to her limits and beyond. She wriggled against him, caught like a butterfly. “Hell, no.”

  He smiled and backed off slightly. She gasped at the raw hollow ache in her pelvis. He surged forward again, filling her. And again. And yet again.

  A wild need seized her. Her wolf driving her, she grabbed his hips and ground herself against him as if she could rattle his very bones.

  His sexy grin exposed sharp, gleaming teeth. He began banging into her.

  She yowled and met him thrust for thrust. His wolf was driving him too, joining them in a savage rhythm. Together they built higher and higher until she was lifted into the blue heavens themselves. She grasped his shoulders, fingers digging into muscles so taut they were iron. “Mine.”

  His gaze blazed into hers. “Mine,” he agreed, and thrust to the very core of her being.

  Power flooded her. She came, soaring like a bird. He came with her. They clasped each other and flew together through intense shuddering, shock and aftershock.

  As their panting began to slow, he raised himself to hold her face in one hand. His gaze was tender. “I wanted to go slower. To show you reverence and honor.”

  “Showing how much I turn you on is good too.” She yawned. Sobered. “That can’t have been our last time. It’s too soon. I just found you.”

  “Sweetheart. It won’t be.” He put his palm between her breasts. Took her hand and placed it over his heart.

  It was an acknowledgment, and a pact. True mates.

  If they survived the Witches’ Council.

  If he survived the fight.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  They dressed and retreated to the main office. Sophia sat on a couch. Noah sat holding hands with her—he refused to let her go.

  She said, “So Jayden mentioned there was something about you that I should know—”

  “Yes, I…” His attention snapped toward the door. “Company’s coming. I’ll tell you later.”

  Mason and Jayden joined them, leaning against the walls, both of them staring out the office door with its clear view of the store’s east window. Neither spoke but a muscle worked in Jayden’s black-stubbled jaw.

  The sex, Noah’s warm body, and the temporary lull in terror made Sophia relax. She let down her guard—and the aftermath of tension and exertion crashed down on her, until she could barely keep her eyes open. She broke the silence to wake herself. “Where does the Challenge Fight take place?”

  Mason said, “The field in back.”

  “In broad daylight? Aren’t you afraid you’ll be seen?”

  “The field’s shielded.”

  “What if the shield fails?”

  “It can’t. It’s anchored to four talismans buried in the soil. They were just recharged, good for a couple years.”

  “Oh.” If the shield failed, the talismans would act like a backup battery, in essence keeping the shield spell refreshed.

  They were silent again. She slumped against Noah. She was painfully exhausted and he was so warm…

  She stiffened. “What about Noah’s poison? If it’s not gone, will it interfere with the fight?”

  Jayden answered. “Some. It’ll slow him and make his movements stiff. But if the hex is gone, I’ll be able to leach the poison.”

  “And if not?”

  Noah said, “I’ll have bigger problems than a little stiffness. Don’t worry, Sophia.” He rubbed her shoulder. “I’ve faced bigger opponents before.”

  “Over a hundred pounds bigger?”

  He didn’t answer.

  They were silent again. She finally dropped off, dozing in Noah’s arms. Her dreams were troubled. She was being chased by a horde of tiny wolves with mustaches. They’d just gotten their needle-sharp claws into her when she startled awake.

  Noah was napping with his head canted back at an angle that wouldn’t have been comfortable for a contortionist. She eased him down onto the couch, lay next to him, and pillowed her head on his chest. They both slept better then.

  Mason woke them as the windows brightened with predawn. Sophia sat up and yawned. Jayden was leaning against the wall, seemingly nonchalant, but his black eyes were sharp on Noah. Next to Jayden, Mason watched Noah outright, not trying to hide his anxiety.

  “Don’t worry.” Noah sat up and stretched as the first rays sparkled on the glass. “I feel fine. Better than fine. I feel exactly like my old self—” His form blurred and the tiny rat dog King popped into being standing on the couch cushions next to her. “Yip.” He snapped it off as if it were a four-letter word.

  “Yap, yap!” someone agreed.

  That wasn’t Noah.

  Sophia swiveled to where Mason and Jayden stood by the window, bright sun streaming enthusiastically through the glass…only Mason stood there.

  “Yap!”

  Her eyes adjusted—down. Next to Mason quivered a very angry, black-haired miniature poodle.

  She stifled a totally inappropriate laugh.

  “Shit,” Mason said. “What happened?”

  He took the words right out of her mouth. “Jayden’s spell not only failed—I think because Noah broke the spell before Jayden disconnected, some of Noah’s hex rebounded on Jayden.”

  “Hell.” Mason drove fingers through his hair, paced, then spun and flung a hand at the furiously yapping poodle. “Now how will he reverse the hex?”

  “He won’t.” She pumped iron into her spine and stood. “I will.”

  Noah leaped in front of her, his little shaggy brows lowered like thunderclouds, his angry yip slicing through Jayden’s barking. She could almost hear him saying, Not for me you won’t. You’re not putting yourself in danger for me.

  “Noah.” Kneeling, she took his cute doggie face between her hands. “Either I do this or you fight Ivan as an undersized dog. Your pack is at stake. So unless there are other alternatives—”

  “Yip!” He jerked out of her hands to turn to Mason and growl.

  Mason winced. “Uh, sorry, Noah. No.”

  “You can understand him?” she asked. “What is he saying?”

  “I don’t understand t
he words, but I know what he’s saying.” Mason’s face reddened. “He wants me to challenge Ivan.”

  “And you won’t? Just because you don’t want to be alpha? Or are you too scared? I can’t believe it. You’d let Noah stake his life against—”

  “Sophia, no, that’s not it. I can’t fight Ivan. I’m, uh, his bond-brother.”

  Noah sat abruptly on his little hindquarters. He stared at his big lieutenant with surprise and consternation.

  “It happened when I first came, okay? I went through a joining ceremony that involved very little sleep and a whole lot of alcohol. Next thing I knew Ivan and I were slapping cut palms together and I was pack—and his blood brother.”

  The black poodle started huffing, either the doggie version of a belly laugh, or he was hurking a hairball.

  Noah yipped at the poodle. Sophia looked to Mason for translation.

  “He said, ‘You’re no help.’ Um, with a few more colorful terms added.”

  “Noah, please.” Aunt Linda was missing, Gabriel was hundreds of miles away. Jayden had no magic, and Mason was handcuffed by the ties of kinship. It was devastatingly clear.

  It was up to her. “I’ll remove the hex.”

  All three males started yapping at her.

  “Because yelling works so well.” With a glance heavenward, she decided the issue by simply striding to the garage.

  Mason followed automatically. Being queen had some perks. The poodle and rat dog came more reluctantly, yipping and yapping at each other the whole way.

  “Where’s your chalk?” she said. When Mason wordlessly handed her a chunk, she started refreshing Jayden’s circles.

  Mason stood next to her, watching closely. “How do you know it won’t do the same thing to you that it did to Jayden?”

  “I’m warding against it.” She scribed a six-point star around the outer circle. Her movements were smooth, easy. Like riding a bike or swimming, it came right back.

  “Won’t the poison try to leap the gap?”

  “Yes. I’ll need your help to stop it.” She finished the star, stepped out of her banker pumps and took off her socks, then traced her bare feet with chalk, muttering the words of a spell. Even the dogs stopped arguing to watch what she was doing.

  “What is that?” Mason asked.

  “I’ve rigged a sort of cutoff switch. If you see that I’m losing control, push me out of these.” She pointed at the blue ringing her feet. “My power will automatically cut.”

  Jayden poodle trotted over to sniff the chalk markings. He nodded and his tail wagged.

  “Glad you approve.”

  Mason squatted to touch the tracings around her feet. “How does it work?”

  “It’s advanced element theory,” she said. “A witch’s power comes from within, but visualization of that power is usually attached to an element, either earth, wind, fire or…”

  His eyes glazed over. Poor Mason.

  She took pity. “I’m pulling earth power. Break my ground, and it breaks the line of power.”

  “Oh.” His gaze cleared and he stood. “Got it.”

  “Noah? I’ll need you inside the circles.”

  The terrier yipped doubtfully. Even without words she knew where his concerns lay.

  “Don’t worry about me. The hex will be contained by the star and Mason will break in if your poison tries to take me over. And the pain…” She didn’t like lying to him, but the pack needed him. And if he lost the fight when she could have made the difference, she wouldn’t want to live with herself, anyway. “The pain will pass. C’mon Noah, let me do this for the pack. Or if not the pack, let me do this for us. For our future.”

  That finally did it. His jaw firmed. With a determined step he entered the inner circle, showing a profound level of trust in her, in the power and control of a witch he’d met only a few days before.

  She blinked scratchy eyes.

  Jayden barked. He seemed to be trying to tell her something. He poked her with his nose and barked again. It must be important.

  She knelt, touched the white wolf brooch mentally and pushed her awareness outside her skin, accessing her wolf without shifting. She caught layered, then backlash and rapid and something like tied at the tail. Warning her against the rapid backlash of the poison? “I’ll work as fast as I can. Step back.”

  She stood and closed her eyes, preparing to break her second seal.

  To her surprise a third of her power, the power she’d given to Jayden, formed a lake at her feet, lapping at the shore of herself, waiting for her.

  The lovemaking with Noah had apparently restored her more than she realized.

  “Are you okay?” Mason said. “Your body snapped straight. Should I pull you out?”

  “I’m okay. Starting the reveal.” She mentally reimaged the water into sweet soil beneath her feet. Pictured herself as a tree, her roots extending deep into the life-giving earth. Drawing power smoothly into herself, she flung her spell into the circles’ joined point.

  Like Jayden’s earlier reveal, a column of power shimmered up from the concrete under Noah’s paws to the ceiling of the repair shop, rich brown because she was drawing earth magic. The power began to throb rhythmically. Her body throbbed in time with it.

  But when she opened her witch’s eye, nothing beyond a tiny pulsing point of red, the remains of the poison, showed.

  Where was the hex?

  “What’s going on?” Mason said.

  “Earth magic didn’t reveal it. I’ll have to try a multi-element spell. Don’t worry—I’m still grounded with earth.” She stirred up a little water magic and splashed the hex.

  The power swirling around Noah brightened with blue streaks—but the hex didn’t show.

  She conjured up her wand, sparked red fire, and pumped it through the circles’ joined point. The swirling smoke shimmered brighter.

  “Reveal.” She blew the word into the containment on a puff of air. With the fourth element, the smoke suddenly glittered brilliantly, as if lit from within.

  A tangle of magic was revealed glowing around the dog, a mummy’s windings of vivid purples, yellows, reds, and blues.

  She’d anticipated a complex, radically altered bur hex, so it took her a moment to realize what she was seeing.

  “Your eyes are wide,” Mason said. “Should I pull you out?”

  “No. It’s just that…it’s a simple wrapping hex.” Not hard to undo at all. Snip the magic anywhere, it unraveled. She wondered why Jayden hadn’t managed it. He seemed like a competent enough mage.

  Deep in Noah’s flank, the poison flared.

  No time to figure it out. She relaxed her grip on the multi-element reveal spell and pulled magical metal shears from the ground.

  A wave of her hand sent the shears into the circle. They opened to snip the hex, like a steel Pac Man.

  Chomp.

  But instead of cutting through, the shears cracked. Another chomp, they shattered. Bits of metal fell to the concrete, wavered, and disappeared.

  She stared, shocked.

  “Sophia!” Mason. “What’s happening?”

  “The wrapping hex broke the shears. But no way a wrapping hex could have that much power…shit.”

  The poison surged toward her like an ocean wave.

  Automatically she threw a wall of water-magic up with her left hand. The poison hit with acid splashes, spurting over the water wall and spraying the edge of the containing circle. She lifted more power from the earth and poured it into both water wall and circle, until it was almost gone.

  “Sophia…?”

  “Not yet.” She needed more power. That meant breaking her penultimate dome.

  She touched the metal inlays on her wand. “I sing silver, I sing gold.” As she chanted she stabbed the wand down, accessing the last of her earth magic. Mentally, she transformed the magic into a diamond drill.

  Across from her, poison oozed along the chalk tracings, leaking along the line of connection. Pain bled into her soles. She c
lenched her teeth against it.

  She pushed the pain aside to raise her mental drill. Putting the diamond tip against the glass dome that sealed her power, she revved the drill.

  With a whirr, it bit in. The funeral barrier cracked.

  Her hands began to burn. More pain bled into her feet. She kept drilling. More cracks began to open. Her legs throbbed from the leaking poison. Her hands were on fire.

  She clenched her wand so tight her fingers ached. For Noah. She stopped drilling, forced all available power into the wand, and used the thing like a sledgehammer.

  “I sing silver and gold. Explode!” She bashed the wand/hammer into her funeral seal.

  The dome burst in a shower of glass. The lock didn’t so much shatter as rupture.

  Power screamed along her veins, blasting into her hands. She shrieked.

  Mason said, “Damn it, Sophia. What do I do?”

  “Wait!” Her palms swelled, her fingers puffed until her skin felt like cooked sausage casings about to explode.

  She panted through the pain, tears sheeting down her cheeks. Clumsily fisting the freed magic, she fashioned a knife, and flung it against the hex wrappings.

  Feedback sliced her with agony, but the knife flew fast and true. It hit the hex windings.

  The knife shattered into dust.

  “Sophia? Now?”

  N-no. She didn’t know if she spoke out loud or not.

  She rapidly chewed her options. Direct power, no good. She waved a new blade edgewise across the windings. The knife shooped off like a skate on ice—skittering a half inch above the hex.

  The poison surged, bulging its containment like a can of botulism about to burst. Dribbles of the nasty stuff ran in rivulets along the chalk. Pain eroded her concentration.

  She could either fight the pain or cast one last spell.

  Mason said, “If you don’t answer me, I’m pulling you out.”

  She cast magic.

  Panting, she let the death sacrifice burn her as she swept up a new knife with her wand. One last chance. Couldn’t cut it. Compact it?

  Her hands were too swollen and burnt to work a spell. The pain had dulled to a dark ache, not good news, like warming before freezing to death.