Tell him. How do you put into words something so grisly? “I killed the witch.” Way to blurt it out.
“I know.” Matthias ran his nose beside her ear. “I feel that doubt. Stop it. You were in danger. Even if you weren’t, I don’t care if you killed every witch alive.”
“What if I told you I ate her heart?” She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. “I bit into her nasty gray, still-beating heart after I magically ripped it up her throat. I gnashed into it and chewed out her magic and soul. Then swallowed it.”
“Are you trying to turn me on?” He arched a brow and ran his tongue over his teeth. “Because that is one hell of a visual.”
“I’m serious. You can look and see the memory.” She stared at his eyes. “Go on.”
“Not if you still have more to say. I was serious too.” His fingers gripped her waistband.
“I…” If she could tell anyone what that meant, it was Matthias. Did she want to carry that secret alone? No. She didn’t want secrets between them. “I wanted her magic, and knowledge.”
“And you have it now? I sensed something different. I assumed it was from Morrigana and you working that ritual.” He looked toward her chest again. “That’s healed nicely.”
“Yes.” Thanks to Lucius, the ward being seared off didn’t leave a mark. Don’t mention Lucius again. “Doesn’t it alarm you that I have the power of an ancient witch and locked inside my mind is the knowhow to use it? What will that mean when they train me how to unlock my mind to what I took from my father? Will all of these stolen powers make me…” She stopped. Make her what? The words and spells Jasper tried to teach her already made sense now. Whatever was stopping her from the flood gates of her stolen knowledge was very thin.
“The only thing stopping you is your own fear.” He hugged her against him. “You are so afraid to be you. Just be, my perfect love. If it is dark, so be it. If it is light, fine. I truly feel it will be both. A beautiful blend of everything that makes both special. You are the best of us all. Don’t let what others expect, or their fears change what you are. What you have always been, my darklight.”
“I like that.” Tears spilled down her face. “You are everything wonderful in the dark. I only hope my dark is as peaceful as yours.”
He caught a tear with a gentle kiss. “My peace is a reflection of you. It always has been. What you feel in my presence isn’t me, it is us. It is what you do to me. That is what happens when we become one. Peace.”
“Give me peace.”
He stood and carried her to the bed, tossing her down and devouring her with hungry eyes.
“Matthias?” Alice propped on her elbows.
“Don’t tell me to wait.” He crawled over her, pressing her back with his chest. “If I wait much longer, I’m afraid I won’t be gentle with you.”
She nipped at his lip. “I never asked you to be gentle.” Alice muttered a few words and energy filled the room.
The clasp of her bra broke as he twisted it. “What are you casting?”
“A protective circle. It’ll keep my magic in, so that we don’t attract everyone. It’ll also make sure the only thing getting broken is my bra.” Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt.
“No more talking.” He threw his shirt on the floor and silenced her next word with his mouth.
ALICE GLANCED AT the map. Ten feet past the large oak. What would she say?
Thanks for romancing me with the most wonderful literature, as it turns out I love someone else. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but he wiped my memories. Don’t look at me like that, he had a sweet reason.
How did you thank someone for something as precious as the way they made her feel? A knot of dread balled in her stomach. She wanted to handle this one first, because it would be easier than Jasper, who would be exponentially easier than Amarok.
What if it was Amarok? No. He was far too forward to keep something like that under wraps. Would that change things? No. She and Amarok were partners.
She stopped to read the next instruction. West? That was toward the edge of the property. After several more feet, Alice stopped again. Had she taken a wrong turn?
A wall of ivy blocked her path.
Remember the book. She dropped to her knees and reached her hands into the ivy. A trowel. The wooden handle against her skin was the only tangible thing as emotion crashed in around her. Who did she mean this much too?
The grass in front of her had a circle of dirt. As she dug with the small shovel tears ran down her face. Someone loved her so much they brought a fictional world to her. Her thanks to them would be telling them her heart belonged to another. You are a monster.
Metal on metal clanked as the trowel hit something. She brushed away the soil to reveal a silver box. A cloud of dirt blew away with a breath to reveal intricately carved daisies on the lid. They knew her. Intimately.
She pressed her finger on a small round button. The lid popped open. A small iron key nestled against yellow silk. Her eyes closed as she grasped the key. Whoever did this, was far too tender for her. The prince charming of her childhood dreams couldn’t survive outside of fantasy. Not in her reality.
The ivy pulled back easily as she searched for the gate she knew would be there. A secret garden waited, just like in the story. After she pulled away a few vines, she sat back on the grass staring at the gate.
It would have taken a lot to make this happen. Who had that much power? Maxwell? A shudder ran up her back. As if. Now or never.
Alice stood and unlocked the gate. It swung open. She brought her hand to her mouth catching a gasp. A field of daisies. Straight out of her dreams. The tree in the corner was the size and kind from her backyard.
She stumbled forward. The smell of flowers, masked something else. Roasted nuts and burnt wood. The garden blurred.
“Matthias. Wait.” Alice pressed against his chest, putting distance between them. Her gaze drifted to the house where she grew up. “You bringing me here means the world to me. I do love you, but I’m not ready for this. Please. Can I have time?”
Matthias stared into her eyes. “Forget this. We’ll come again when the time is perfect.”
Everything faded. A new memory rushed in.
“Matthias. Wait.” Alice wiggled free from his embrace. She glanced around at the iced-over lake. “This is so beautiful. I’ve always wanted to ice-skate. Thank you for making this happen, but I’m just not ready.”
Matthias tilted her chin up and kissed her lips before staring into her eyes. “We never went to a lake. We just work together.”
Gray crept in, fading the memory into another. Memories came in small clips. All beautiful. All ending the same. The last one came on a wave of peaceful sensations.
“I’ve never been with… please, your touch is too much.” Alice put her hand over Matthias’. The flowers under her back provided a soft bed.
Matthias sat up and plucked a red rose from the bush closest to them. “I won’t touch you until you are ready. But when I do, I’ll touch you here.” He trailed the petals across her collarbone. “And here.” He trailed the rose up her neck. “Most certainly here.” He stared at her mouth as the blossom traced her lips.
“Where else?” Alice asked in a throaty voice.
“Here.” The rose drifted down to the edge of her shirt collar, tracing along her breast. “Here, and when you cry out for more.” He started at her ankle and slowly drew the rose up her leg, high on her thigh.
“Wait. Matthias. Please. I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I do want this. I want you, but I…”
He dropped the rose and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his pupils grew. “I’ll never forget this, but you have to. For now. My love.”
Roasted nuts and burnt wood filled the air around her. A rose trailed down her neck.
Her heart raced. She leaned back into the strong cold embrace of her forever. “I love you.”
“Did you come here to break my heart?” His voice came out l
ow and filled with desire. “Are you here to tell me you belong to another?”
“I did. I was.” She turned and took the rose, tossing it down and putting his hand on her waist. “It’s always been you. Every single time I reached my breaking point, you pulled me back. I pushed you away, and you were still there the next time. I… You are both? How can you be the romantic, sweet hero of my fictional dreams and also be the real dark sexy killer who fills my reality?”
“You ask that? You who is a strong, sexy, powerful and confident woman, yet also you have the light, pure, hopeful heart and soul of the little girl who dreamed in her garden for happily ever after with prince charming.” He framed her face in his hands.
“I’m not that little girl anymore.”
“I’m no prince charming. Never have been.”
“But you are. You are my dark prince charming. Forever.”
The end.
Continue reading for chapter one of Blessedly Bound, part one of the Elemental Witch Trial series.
Blessedly Bound
An Elemental Witch Trials Novel Book One
Chapter One
GWEN GLARED AT her raven, Lewis. Were they going to argue about the weather now as well? “You can help me, or mind your own business.”
“Will it be my business when you lay freezing in a snowstorm?” His words whispered in her mind.
She stepped out of the main room and into the hall, ignoring his question. The burgundy carpet runner muffled her footsteps, muting her presence in the cavernous corridor. The stale air devoured the light aroma of roses from her shampoo, erasing her trail.
Lewis flew by her face in a flourish of feathers.
She kept walking. Dignifying his temper tantrum wouldn’t accomplish anything.
At the end of the hall, she stopped. A large wooden door barricaded her from the harsh weather, also blocking the answers she craved. The wood grain on the panel formed patterns of faces. Guardians.
Gwen unlatched the chain, and then gripped the brass handle, using her thumb to depress the lock. A blast of cold forced its way inside through the screen door. She flicked the latch, and then pushed on the small frame.
Lewis flapped past without a word.
The wood boards of the porch creaked under her weight. With a tug, she closed the door and ended the stream of warmth from inside. Gwen let go of the screen door. Its spring slammed it closed.
The waist high siding, along with the screen blocked much of the snow. Tiny collections gathered in the corners where the frames met, giving hints at the intensity of the wind.
Gwen pulled at her already zipped outercoat before shoving her gloved hands in her pockets.
Lewis remained a silent observer.
She thrust her shoulder against the outside door. Once. Twice. The high snowdrift held it in place.
The raven changed to his man form, stormed past her, shoved the door open, and shifted back before he took flight.
“Thank you.” Her words filled the emptiness around her, before vanishing, unacknowledged.
With her head turned so the chill didn't slap her face, she walked down the steps into the storm. The wind swirled the fluffy new snow, making it hard to see. The deeper into the chilling white she walked, the more she needed to use memories and instinct to guide the way. Her eyes scanned for Lewis as she inched forward.
Snow crunched under her feet as it had the first day she walked the estate grounds alongside the police officers. The detached voice of the local sheriff drifted on the wind. That’s where the remains were found.
The muscles in her calves and thighs burned with each step. How far had she walked? Not far enough. She tugged the neck of her coat over her chin, and pressed on.
Yellow crime tape flapped against the trees. A warm spot grew from the coldness, wrapping around her. The whistle of the wind stopped. Burned pine, death, and ice mingled together in the air like a macabre barbecue. This was the spot.
Trees cast dark shadows, creating images of unknown monsters on the snow. Behind her, the white swallowed the manor. An isolated sense of dread washed over her. The air dried her throat. Every exhale formed a cloud, before it disappeared, sucked into oblivion.
Her teeth chattered. Stings came from numbing fingertips. To delay any longer meant a real risk of frost bite.
A flash of black cut through the snowy air. Lewis.
She pulled off her gloves, crammed them in her pocket, and then rested her bare palms on the rough surface of the burnt tree. The tree where her grandmother died. Bound and burned.
Nothing came to her.
She knelt and removed her boots. Standing again, with her hands on the tree, she dug her toes into the icy layers. As a reflex they recoiled. She forced them deeper. Her toes wiggled through the snow while she ignored both the wind cutting through her clothes, and the hot pin pricks of freezing flesh on her feet.
It was easy to dig away the new fluffy flakes, but it took some extra effort as she worked at more compressed layers. She did not register she hit the soil under her feet until her mind took her back to the near past.
Stars sparkled in the inky sky. A breeze blew. The air carried on it had a dry warmth. From where? It must be a summer night. No, it can't be. The air itself was cold. A winter night, but with a warm breeze.
Her eyes opened wide.
Fire burned in front of her. As the flames grew higher, they scorched her skin. She wanted to back away from the heat, but couldn't move. Shades of yellow and orange danced around her. She wrestled against the rope holding her bound. Tied to a tree.
“Burned at the stake.” The words echoed in the night.
Her eyes scanned past the flames that licked closer to her. Sweat beaded on her forehead. A wicked laugh filled her mind. Brown eyes flashed in front of her.
“Now you will burn, witch,” the same genderless voice said.
The flames reached higher. Two distinct sets of screams rang out, her own and her grandmother’s. The heat swallowed her thoughts. The unmistakable stench of skin on fire, blended with the reek of singed hair. Things blacked out as agony enveloped her.
As soon as her consciousness closed to the fire, cold washed over her. She lay sprawled on the ground, gripping the snow beneath her.
Her eyes opened again. Crimson replaced the ivory world. If only the ropes would burn.
Blackness came. Coldness woke her.
Again, her eyes opened to heat and fire. She tried to back out of the past, but flames continued to cook her skin.
Her eyes closed. The sweat on her skin froze in the arctic air.
“Lewis,” she managed to say before the flames sucked her back.
When she returned again, warmth wrapped her. Body heat. Some-one carried her in their arms. The wind howled. Snow swirled. Too weak to do anything more, she rested against the familiar body of Lewis.
The next time she opened her eyes, she was on the couch, in the main room of the manor. A heavy blanket tucked around her, holding in her body heat. The fire crackled, casting shadows across the dimly lit room.
Lewis perched on the chair to the right of the couch.
“Thank you.” She sat up, and leaned back on the pillows.
“You could have died,” he said, still as a voice in her head.
She licked her chapped lips. “I need to know. I only had one night to do this, before the moon phase changed.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Any little bit that can help me find out who did this is worth any-thing.” Gwen loosened the blanket.
“You were hurt.”
“Yes. Burned.” She held out her arms, and examined the unmarred flesh. “You healed them already?”
“Of course I healed them. You knew she was burned. What have you learned?” His words started out soothing, but grew harsh as he chastised her.
Gwen rubbed her hands together. “She was burned alive. They, whoever killed her, put her to death as a witch.”
“Did you see who did it?”
<
br /> “No. I saw brown eyes, and heard a crazy laugh.” She lost the struggle to keep her voice from cracking.
“Brown eyes, and how exactly is that useful?”
“I can't be sure. It's something.”
“It’s not something worth dying for in a snowstorm.”
Gwen laid her head back and closed her eyes. Did they have to argue again? “Thank you, was what started this conversation. How about you just say you're welcome, and we call it a night?”
“Welcome.” He preened, and then stretched his wings.
She interpreted that as ravenspeak for, 'this is not worth my time.' “Lewis?”
“Yes, my witch.”
“What can pull me into the past?” She watched the shadows dance against the walls, remembering the trees.
“Did you feel out of control?” He changed forms, strode to the couch, and sat beside her.
“I did. Whatever it was, with the eyes, kept pulling me back every time I tried to come back to here.” A tickle ran up her neck.
His thin brows creased with the same concern that was in every one of his sharp features. His rich coffee eyes, rimmed in black, also held worry. He stroked her hair. It glistened as black as his own that matched his feathers.
Being in his arms soothed her. She nuzzled against his neck. If only it wasn’t frowned upon for a witch and familiar to explore the attraction between them.
“I don't feel any magic on you. No links or residue.” His brows un-creased.
“Do you think I was in danger? I've never felt like things noticed me before when I look in the past.” She pressed against him, enjoying the sensation of their mingling auras.
“They shouldn't have noticed you. It should have been like watching a film. It engaged you?” His tone came out riddled with concern.
“Yeah, you don't think I could have called something here somehow? Maybe I wasn't seeing the past. Maybe some supernatural being was showing me something?”
“Nothing seemed extraordinary from here. I didn't feel any magic in the air aside from yours.” His hand drifted from her hair to her back.
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