“The glimpse I saw from your world was enough to convince me. Why did you do it, Burton?” She cringed from his painful grip. “Why did you turn against your family?”
His features twisted into a horrific scowl. He leaned into her and his scent of decayed liqueur hit her full force with its sickening power.
“Oh yes, I forgot,” he said. “You’re into psychology and therapies now. Really all you have to do is accept it in yourself. If you must know, I gave you to Morgius.”
“Morgius?” Her whole body curled away from him in terror at the name. Morgius, Being of Shadows and Dust, Harvester of Lost Souls, a pure evil entity deep in the seven hells of the Daeva Realm who tortured and fed from people’s soul and most desperate fears.
“My deity, yes. He wanted a little Stanford to play with. And as I can see, he still enjoys himself with you when you sleep.”
And crossing over into the daytime, she realized. The bloody scene by the road crossed her mind. Was that what the visions where about?
“Both myself and Morgius in your mind. Yes. Isn’t that sweet? You will never be alone, my dear. You will never leave us.”
His last words fueled a vast rage inside her. “Dammit, I will!”
She grabbed his arm with her free hand, twisted away from him and bent herself free. The shards of glass sliced her skin again but she was oblivious to the pain.
She would fight him with all she had.
“Koir idash vyenrt aheir. Koir idash.” She swooped both hands at the room, commanding the wind blowing in through the window.
The huge current of air trapped him inside a tightly contained vortex over her bed.
“Cahssare artyfxium,” she shouted again.
Her Serenity ring, still in his hand, blasted out in a million pieces, destroying itself and sending a blast of fire over him, hot enough to melt stone.
He sank to the floor from behind the wind tunnel, rage in his dark soulless eyes but seemingly untouched by the otherworldly forge fire from the ring’s last bit of energy.
She thrust both arms at him, her hands in the air, controlling him.
“Release me, Burton,” she boomed, her heart pounding in her chest. “James Rodney Burton the Third, Rogue Sorcerer, Exiled Warlock of the Black Oak, release me from Morgius’s grip.” She’d spent this whole winter, every minute of it, calculating how to destroy him. But never imagined he’d do something worse and that she’d needed him alive.
“Ah, so now you need me, love.” He shook his head slowly, a content smile etched upon his lips. Still contained in the wind circle, but not for long.
He slowly rose from the floor, ready to attack.
The word to kill hung on her lips.
That one forbidden word.
Intone it with enough conviction, and he would be dead. His human essence not surviving him.
It was just simple retribution.
And she, having been abducted and tortured by him, was the only one able to say it without breaking the Order’s ethics.
She was not a cold blood murderess. No. Just exacting her revenge.
But Morgius. With Burton gone, she’d still be under the evil entity’s spell.
She raised her hand higher in the air, tightening the strength of the wind around him, whispering to Teisthys to help her bind him further. “Release me, Burton.”
“And why on earth would I do that?” he said lazily. Not even raising a finger to try to shake himself from her spell.
“Fuck this.” She took a deep breath to cast the death incantation.
But before the definitive words crossed her lips, a silky black shape jumped through the window with a deafening roar.
“No!” she screamed.
The beast slammed into Burton, claws and razor teeth out, aiming for his throat.
“Kyrnawi y koirx!” Burton’s voice cracked into the stormy air.
In a flash, the mage’s body had shifted into a large crow. The black bird flew straight out of the motel room.
Gone.
Despair fell hopelessly over her.
Burton had fled.
Fled with his hold on her and worse, with the knowledge to free her from the evil being to which he’d enslave her.
She stared in shock at the large panther at her feet, the beast still snarling at the window.
Her blood boiled with fury. “Sinclair. What the hell have you done?”
Chapter 5
Madness still consumed her as she watched the large beast slowly recede into the human form of Sinclair Clarke.
And a fine form it was. Tall, well defined muscles and smooth golden skin. All that and naked. As the wind blew a black curl across his crimped forehead, the familiar sight of him, instead of sending the usual lust through her, just fueled her rage.
“You were about to kill him,” he scorned at her.
“You have a problem with that?” She tilted her head back to level with him.
“You’re not a murderess, Cee.” He shook his head, leaned back on his heels, and crossed his arms at his bare broad chest.
“Your words should have been,” she said, tugging at the string of her sweatpants with annoyance, “wow, Cee, you really know how to defend yourself.”
“I never doubted you. But you are not a murderess.”
“Who’s to do it then? You were all fine with Diesel killing him. What’s so special about Diesel?”
“I’m not in love with Diesel.” There he went again. He used his love to reason with her.
And yet he was sexy, with thick and muscular thighs, his manhood much too there for her to admire. Some of her anger receded at the sight.
She turned away to study the series of candles she had arranged earlier for a peaceful sleep. She would not have her mood influenced by how hot he looked. Even as she was still awed at how much of a strong predator he looked naked, while he could be such a polished and worldly man about town.
“Celeste, do you know the burden of carrying the murder of a living creature inside you?” His deep tone sending shivers to her belly. “Even such a vile one as Burton? I don’t want that for you.”
“You’ve done it before,” she said gently, still not looking at him, quivering now in the frigid room blasted by the winter wind.
“Riespahre.” She swished her right hand.
The shards of glass scattered throughout the room rearranged themselves to reconstruct the window, the surroundings quieted.
“You have turned yourself into a powerful witch, Cee.” He laid a hand on her shoulder before enfolding her in his arm from behind.
She sighed and let him, her mind a jumble of feelings.
“I apologize if I ever let you think I doubted your abilities.” His scent, a mix of spice and expensive soap with that musky hint of the predator, pierced through her last defenses. How could she be mad at him?
“And yes, I have ended lives,” he said, his tone somber. “But it is in my dual nature. Something I must battle with, every day. The man, the beast. It’s not what I want for you.”
She flicked her hand at the candles to light them. “What do you want for me, then?” she asked, staring softly into the flames.
“Not what you got. Not days in Burton’s dark world. When I saw him facing you just now, I lost it.”
“I had him,” she said.
“Still. No matter how masterful you become, I will always worry. When you were under his curse in a coma for so long, it was the first time I ever encountered something I couldn’t fix. I tried everything I knew. But in the end, I could only keep you warm.”
She leaned her head back upon his torso. “I felt you, you know. Sometimes, the nightmares faded and I felt a presence. Calm, powerful, soothing. I was so grateful you were right there with me. It’s the only thing I could hold on to.”
He tightened his embrace and kissed the base of her neck, trailed his lips on her skin, on that spot he knew she loved.
She wanted to turn around and bury her face into his chest, let g
o of her fears, tell him about Morgius.
She frowned with angst. She would have to tell him about Morgius.
“You always smell so delicious.” His hand slid down along her waist to her navel.
“Sin, we can’t…”
“Yes, we can,” he whispered in her neck. “I know it’s the animal side of me reacting after a shift but we both need it. I thought I’d lost you, sanam.”
She breathed, still drained from the magic of shattering her Serenity ring to slow Burton. She hadn’t had a second thought during the struggle. Just stop him. Fight.
But now, her body eased into Sin’s heat as he found the band of naked skin above her sweats and cupped her waist, drawing tremors of cravings up to her breasts. She relaxed back into his embrace, felt the strength of his thick desire along her backside.
She knew danger was near. That she should be out at her books. Figuring out how to defeat Burton again. How to force him to free her from the demon she carried.
But now she welcomed her moment of weakness in Sin’s arms. He had been her strength and now she needed him. Needed what he had to offer her.
He continued to kiss her skin, tracing a pattern of heat up to the cradle of her neck, burying his face under her hair. His arm anchored her close to him, while his other hand slid up to her chest under the tank top. He cupped one breast and rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You need this as much as I do,” he purred.
She moaned as he pinched her nipple tight. Scorching yearning shot deep between her thighs.
She reached out to grasp the back of his head and arched against him. Her body tensed with need and the pent-up energy from her encounter with Burton.
But she would not think about Burton right now. She would think about this. Live this. Sin’s hands all over her, his body, his scent on her, marking her.
Exorcise the awful memory of Burton pretending to be her lover in her wretched dream. Imprint her psyche with Sinclair’s true essence.
He groaned in her ear, pushed her sweatpants down until they fell to the floor, and grinded against her, demanding and solid at the bare cheeks of her backside. Making her want him. Not just all over her, but also all of him, huge and tight, inside her.
His hand slid between her thighs from behind, finding her wet yearning of him.
“Celeste,” he groaned. “You’re so hot right now. You’re everything.”
Her fingers buried deep in his hair. She couldn’t move except to arch her back, buckling her hips back and forth to move against his hand.
He slid a finger along her folds, slow and controlled, touching her just at the right spot but only enough to drive her wild. Pulses of yearning radiated from her core at his insistent and intimate touch.
“Sinclair.” She turned around to reach for him but he grasped her wrists and spun her back to face the wall. He held her arms up there with one hand while the other returned between her thighs to torment her to no mercy, exploring her at will, leaving her panting for more and anxious for release.
“Please Sin, just finish this now,” she begged him, mad for release.
“Not now,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. His fingers stopped their sweet and tantalizing motion to trace the curve of her buttocks , up to her lower back, around her hips and down the tender junction above her thighs.
She wiggled on her toes, quivering with the maddening wait for climax, dying from anticipation.
“Not now,” he repeated, his voice hoarse, demanding. “I want all of you.” His legs solidly anchoring her between him and the wall, his hand firmly over hers, he traced up her belly, stop to tease a nipple, then turned her chin toward him to kiss her. His lips gentle on hers at first, then urgently tasting every bit of her mouth.
She relaxed into him, into his kiss, the tension from her fight leaving her, replaced by nothing but pure burning desire for the man who she knew loved her more than anything. And that she knew she also loved more than life.
She would have to tell him about Morgius. She would, but not yet.
Not right now.
I love you too, she wanted to say as she pulled her head back to gaze into his eyes, getting lost into the emerald green pupils with the speck of amber, feverish from sex, showing the glimpse of the feline killer that always resided within him.
I love you.
She almost uttered the words. But held back.
She studied his noble features lost to passion in the glow of candlelight. How he must have suffered when she lay unconscious for so long.
A hint of sorrow settled over her chest. How would he feel to know she was still not free. That a monster still resided inside her mind. That Morgius…
She couldn’t tell him she loved him. Not until she was free. And she couldn’t tell him about Morgius, either. She could not risk the darkness she knew was in her to spill over him. To spill over her family.
She couldn’t leave him behind, as she had planned. But this, the monster in her, he could never know until it was gone for good.
As she let herself fall into Sinclair’s lust, a last thought remained branded in her mind before she lost control.
This, she’d have to take care of herself.
* * *
Burning with his need of her, his shifter nature still lingering in him, Sinclair had reluctantly released Celeste’s lips as he sensed a hesitation pass through her body.
“Sweetheart,” he said, his tone worried as he released her hands on the wall to cradled her against him.
She smiled back at him, her expression eased and she pleaded, “I need you, Sin. Kiss me again. Don’t let go.”
He crushed her lips under his again. Passion and longing for her filling him, his body wanted just one thing, take her.
Now.
He was hard and ready, but also wanted to make sure she wanted this as badly as he did.
“Tell me you want this,” he groaned, ready to lose control as his fingers returned to tease that slick place between her thighs that was so willing for him. “Tell me you want it,” he added stroking her faster.
“Sin, stop playing with me,” she begged with returned hunger, shifting her backside toward him.
“You want me to stop,” he said playfully.
“No,” she protested in a rasp. “Don’t stop. I want you, inside me. Now.”
And that was all he needed. He edged upon her, grabbed both sides of her rounded hips and slid inside her from behind. The tightness and heat of her wrapped itself around his cock and shot him a flash of pleasure which quickly turned into red hot need for more.
He loved her, loved her more than life itself and to be so close to her, in that moment, confirmed he could never have her leave his sight.
Seeing Burton appear near to her out of nowhere had shattered his gut. How could the bastard be still alive? His sight had brought Sin back to The Crest almost a year ago.
Where hopeless he had watched his beloved mother fall under the vicious blade of the dark mage. Her last raspy breaths, barely audible under the sob of his sister Kera, still haunted him.
Then months later, again helpless, he’d been at Celeste’s bedside, doing everything to calm her as she screamed her nightmares. None of the spell he knew would break the curse.
But this time finally, he’d been able to do something. Leap for the bastard that had relentlessly attacked his family.
While Kera was able to fend for herself and was now safely at Breaker Hall with Diesel, he would not risk losing Celeste. Not at any cost.
Without her he’d be nothing.
She was anchored on the wall as he drew into her, her wild hair along her sleek back, the curve of her waist descending to the enticing width of her hips, which he held with control. So beautiful, so trusting in him. The scent of warm beaches surrounding him. All of her essence consuming him.
All his to love, cherish.
He wanted to marry her. No matter what she said now.
He did want her to find her inde
pendence, but he wanted to be bonded with her. Forever.
Her newfound magic was something he could accept. Even if it was St-Amand witch magic from her grandmother and not quite like his own. He could accept that.
In fact, he relished it.
It would keep her safe. Enhanced with training from the Black Oak elders, she’d be invincible.
Holding her close, he lustily thrust himself inside her a few more times, just to feel that power which came from the predator deep within him, then reached between her thighs again where she was so slick and ripe. He wanted her to come for him, to shatter in his arms while he did the same.
Celeste’s head fell forward upon her forearms as he commanded her body from behind. His fingers drew along her in time with his thrust to bring her to the point of ecstasy. He wanted her lost into it. Into his shameless power.
And right there, now, it was just him and her, as it had always been. Two lovers. For now, for life.
So close.
Just as they had been before. Beyond anything else.
With her intensely taking him in, as always, letting no inhibitions linger between them.
And when he felt the orgasm shatter inside her, his own erupted in endless pleasure radiating from his very core.
He wanted nothing but her. Nothing but to be hers.
His large body eased against her with the last tremors of his own release. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear. He slipped from her and scooped her in his arms, clammy and trembling from her own climax. “Forever, I will always love you.”
He laid her on the bed gently, so lovingly, in such a contrast with how he’d commanded her body with his hunger, and wrapped her into the comfort of his chest.
Gazing at her face with love, he noticed the small frown etching itself on her eyebrows and worries nibbled inside him. Something was not quite right.
He knew it. Knew her so well.
Something was gnawing at her. And it was more than Burton’s attack.
An acute sense of purpose rose in him. Whatever it was, he was there to protect and shield her from it, fight her fight with all his might.
But as he peered closely at the cloud shadowing her blue eyes, a twinge of suspicion edged into him. He took in a slow breath and pondered his gut feelings.
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