His Sapphire Witch

by Celia Crown

  Her soul was in the same condition as her body, breaking and crumbling with forbidden magic coursing through her soul. It was too close to be consumed by all the black magic, but she was a strong girl, so strong that she wouldn’t give up on her family, not even in her dreams.

  She survived the excruciatingly long surgery. It took hours to heal her broken body and fragmented soul. Her heart was freed of those pesky veins that threatened to take her from me, and her heartbeat thumped loudly from the machines.

  We gave her time to recover, but time went on without a care to the world.

  Charlotte never woke up from her surgery.

  Not only is she not aging at all, but she also lost her magic. The doctor had checked everything in her body, and the usual buzz of the magic gene is no longer present. I didn’t know how to take that news because magic isn’t something that bothered me when it comes to Charlotte.

  In a way, it was magic behind our meeting. If she was born without it, I might not have met her since Jesse probably wouldn’t have joined the military.

  What a shitty fate.

  “I’ll see you later,” I said to her sleeping body and press another kiss to her lips.

  I stand up from the bed and scan her body under the cover. The bedroom is on a regulated temperature that is measured by her body heat. If she goes warmer, the temperature drops and vice versa.

  I brought this home for her.

  For the both of us. I want her to wake up to a new home facing the ocean, breathing in the fresh air and feel the sun warming her skin.

  Being cooped up in the childhood home with bad memories isn’t the best for her mental state. I don’t want the first thing that pops in her head is the whole voice thing that bothered her.

  Everything is perfect now. I just need her to wake up.

  I retired from the military, but I still consult with them and get paid for it. it’s a lucrative job because, with my level of intimate knowledge about witches, it’s easier to formulate strategies against witches who had been consumed by the madness of forbidden magic.

  Jesse transferred to another department; learning about medicine is his new hobby. He wants to learn everything about witches and their physiology to help Charlotte and those unfortunate women who had fallen victim to temptation.

  He studied under the same doctor that saved Charlotte, and he had become one of the best in the medical fields. He would go out into the battlefield with his skills from being under my command and the new-founded knowledge to help those in need.

  He’s doing good for the world.

  I look back towards the bed. The bright sun illuminates the ocean as it reflects it back into the massive bedroom with wide windows.

  She sleeps with a halo of black hair and a gorgeous glow. Not a day of these five years has affected her as it did to me. I’m older, scruff littered around my jaw as I don’t have the time to shave it.

  My body had grown stronger while I keep up with my training, helping young recruits to build up their talents and making them work on their weaknesses. The black cracks on my hand were long gone; they were gone after the surgery, and they didn’t hurt anymore.

  Sometimes, I would still feel the phantom pain sizzling on my skin; it’s a reminder that Charlotte needs me. She needs me to be strong so when she wakes up, she’ll never have to worry about being hurt again.

  My phone sounds an alarm to tell me that I should get going to the military base. I lock all the doors and windows, double checking the alarm system to see it activated on the highest setting.

  Every time I leave the house, I get uneasy about leaving her unguarded. She isn’t truly safe unless I or Jesse is with her. I don’t really trust the system that I helped design. Trust is a fickle thing, and believing in myself is hard, but it’s the only thing I can do.

  Once I get in the car, I went straight to the base with no other stops. The quicker I can get the problem solved, the better it is for me to get my hands on her again.

  It’s a long drive from my home to the base. Traffic is stalling every minute of my day while annoying drivers are swerving lanes to get to a faster one.

  The moment I get there, I was thrown into work and lots of incoming information from active missions. I work to keep my mind off of Charlotte. It hurts my heart to think that she might never wake up again.

  I can’t afford to be negative; those dark thoughts need to be banished from my mind, and I have to keep a positive mindset. I have never given up hope on her for five years. I won’t start now.

  The day goes by fast. I haven’t had the time to eat lunch because of how difficult it is to locate a witch whose ability is to blend into her environment. She can turn into organic or inorganic materials so that the tracking machines can’t detect her. It’s a pain in the ass when she’s hell-bent on erupting a volcano.

  A volcano eruption can cause an earthquake with a crushing tsunami. I don’t think the witch thought it through when she dabbled in forbidden magic. She did write a manifesto about volcanos being the gate to hell.

  She thought that she could open hell’s gate and release all the trapped poor souls. I think that’s hilariously ridiculous. They wouldn’t be in hell if they didn’t do heinous things.

  A voice calls me from behind, “Commander?”

  My title still follows me around. Retirement doesn’t change the fact that I’m one of the most well-respected people around and no one dares to overstep their boundaries.

  I turn to see a woman. She’s in a black attire that screams office placement for her job. I put down the file at the table and nods at her. She comes to stand in front of me.

  “I’m Sharron Montoya. I’m a criminal profiler working with the FBI,” she introduces herself with her hand out.

  I shake her hand. She wouldn’t let go after I try to drop my hand. She takes a moment before letting go while staring oddly forcefully in my eyes.

  Nodding at her, I start to do the same. “I’m—”

  She smiles. The redness on her lips is bold and perfectly sculpted. “I know who you are, commander.”

  I have met many people through my time. Some people hold themselves in ways that are not of what the normal people do. It’s fine with me as long as they aren’t disrespectful. They can paint themselves in whatever light they want to be seen in.

  “What can I do for you, Ms. Montoya?” I ask.

  She smiles slowly, “Please, call me Sharron.”

  The woman takes a bold step forward, and my eyes narrow at her shorter frame. I stand my ground and wait until she is one step past a professional distance.

  I prefer my space to be unoccupied. It’s a habit that I like since close quarters can result in bodily injuries. I scan her for anything that could be used as a weapon. Her coy eyes shine with a pleased smile as she juts her hips to the side.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Ms. Montoya?” I ask again.

  I don’t know her, and I don’t plan on getting to know her. There is work waiting for me to finish so I can go home to my little sleeping beauty.

  She smiles again, “I’m chasing a serial killer. She’s also a magic user. I could use some of your insight on the case.”

  I gauge her face for anything. She’s confident in her wording, and her posture is straight. Nothing triggers any alarms in my head, but there are other qualified experts that can help her. I already have my hands full with more immediate threats that are overseas.

  That’s where my expertise lies. I leave the home turf to the professionals who have jurisdiction here.

  She offers, “Perhaps we could discuss the details over dinner?”

  I open my mouth to reject her offer, but she cuts in. “It’s urgent that we find a solution for her crimes.”

  I don’t doubt the urgency because it’s a serial killer, but it’s not urgent enough for her to invite me to dinner to discuss it.

  I’m neither blind nor ignorant to how women stare at me. They have tried every possible excuse to talk to
me, and some went as far as do things to make sure that I’m in their presence when their clothes are either inappropriate or too perfect.

  It’s an open secret that I have someone and that someone is a witch. It’s wrong for them to think that just because I hunt down witches who broke the law doesn’t mean I can’t love one. Loving Charlotte gives me the courage to understand witches in a new light. I used to just think of them as hideous monsters in my head for an unaffected kill, and it worked wonders.

  Then Charlotte changed my views. I can no longer kill them and see a clawed and sharp-teethed monster. I see them as girls with a future, women with children and a family, elders living the rest of their lives in peace.

  “Commander?” Her hand lays on my arm, her nails grazing at my skin as the short-sleeved shirt catches on her nails.

  “I’m afraid you will have to find someone more qualified. There are others who have more extensive knowledge of civilian land.” I move away, picking up my folder and excusing myself out of the door.

  I can feel her eyes digging holes in my back, and her heels creak the silence in the hall. I keep walking, and her presence makes its way to my side. She matches my speed and her smile remains firmly on her lips.

  “You seem to be in a hurry, sir,” she comments lightly.

  “I am,” I answer curtly.

  She clears her throat, “I know you haven’t had lunch. It’s not healthy for your body.”

  The way she said body sent chills down my spine. I put distance around us by turning the corner and down a flight of stairs. Her heels are behind me again, and I resist to groan out loud. I have to maintain my professionalism.

  “I’m free for the rest of the night. I’d like to see you at the restaurant around the corner later.”

  I sigh and stop at the bottom of the steps. I turn around, and she’s right in my face, too close for me to get a whiff of her perfume and the creases in her lashes. I take a step back, and she stays on the step. I still tower over her as I sternly set my tone.

  “I will not have dinner with you, and your case is not my jurisdiction. Do not follow me, or I will have you escorted out.”

  Spinning around, I stalk off to the exit where I scan my badge on the scanner. My ears don’t pick up on her heels and it’s best if I don’t because my temper is rising. I haven’t had the best patience these days. I have been having this ache deep in me that tells me something is going to happen.

  It’s the same feeling when I’m on the battlefield. I trust my gut when I feel something is wrong, and it has never let me down before. I hurry along to my car, peeling out of the base in quick turns and narrowly avoiding other cars as I try to make it home.

  My phone alerts me with a sound. I stop at a red light and look at the notification; it’s the security at home. Not only did I install cameras around the perimeter and in the main areas of the house, but I also installed motion sensors in the bedroom and places that needed to be protected when I’m not home.

  I turn the motion sensors off when I’m at home, but it remains on when Charlotte is by herself. Jesse has the passcode to my home when he visits her, and he knows about the sensors so he would shut them off when he enters, but the alert tells me that it’s not Jesse.

  I step on the gas and speed down the road, the speed and amount of traffic should get me there in fifteen minutes at the least.

  Fat chance, I’ll make it there in ten.

  I am right when I get there in ten minutes. I would have cursed my luck if I got pulled over by a police car. It’s too complicated to explain to them of whatever the hell is happening in my life; they’ll need two cups of coffee and a whole day to understand the circumstances that lead me to speed like a manic man.

  I am one, especially if the sensors that moved are in my bedroom.

  My bedroom has Charlotte sleeping, and she’s too vulnerable to do defend herself.

  When I get my hands on the intruder, I’m going to kill them and hide the body. Games aren’t my style when it comes to her safety, and I know how to get away with murder. It wouldn’t be hard with my type of connections in the government.

  I barge into the house, and the house alarm blares. I quickly punch in the code by the door, and it goes quiet. I analyze the area for threats, and I found nothing is disturbed. I run up to my room and slam the door open.

  My stomach drops.

  Charlotte is not there. Her cover is thrown to the side, and when I go to touch the bed, its remaining warmth escapes.

  With a wild heart and clouded mind, I search for her in the room, and I get a glimpse of something cutting off the smoothness of the ocean.

  There she is, standing in the water with her pretty, little dress flowing in the air and black hair swaying on her back.

  She’s awake.

  My throat tightly closes, and I’m out of the backdoor in half a minute. The cries of birds, the crashing of waves, and the brilliance of the color burst around me. Fresh saltiness fills my lungs as I rush to the girl with my shoes digging into the sand. It slows my speed, but I’m too ecstatic to care.

  I bring her body to mine, circling my strong arms around her delicate body and relishing on her warm skin. I stuff my nose in her neck and breathe the familiar scent that can only belong to her.

  “Charlotte,” I huskily rasp, spinning her around and watch those big, sapphire eyes gaze into mine.

  A wave crashes around her feet, I crash my lips to hers, wrapping her hair in my fingers and tug on the strands. Kiss after kiss, I don’t let go until she’s meekly pushing me away. Her swollen lips and glassy eyes, they’re all for me as my heart pounds harshly.

  I can’t breathe, and if I try to blink, she’s going to disappear, and I’ll be devastated that this is either another dream or a hallucination that I conjured up to help me not lose my mind.

  “I missed you, Charlotte,” I whisper, searing our lips together and devouring her mewls as she trembles in my arms.

  Another slash behind me and a crash of another body send us deeper into the waters, arms and a mop of black hair joins in, and I remember it’s Jesse’s scent. He kisses her on the head and embraces both of us with his eyes giving up their defense on holding back his tears.

  He sobs and scolds at Charlotte, “Why would you make us wait this long, Letty? I found a gray hair the other day. That’s how scared I have been.”

  I laugh from my stomach and curl one of my arms on his shoulder to bring him in closer.

  Her little frame wiggles and squirms from my side. I let go slightly and trap her in our arms. She looks up, darting her blue eyes left and right. She finds features on Jesse that catches her attention, but she doesn’t say anything. Then, she looks over to me, and I swallow the lump in my throat.

  Her head cocks to the side before she glances at both of us.

  Her words shattered my world again.

  “Who are you?”

  Epilouge

  Charlotte

  One Year Later.

  Finding out I lost my memories is one shock; finding out that I was a witch was another, but knowing that a man like Alex had waited for me and continue to love me even when he could have given up on me is astonishing.

  I don’t doubt that he has women lined up for him and if he tells them to jump, they’ll kick their feet as high as possible.

  He’s just that influential.

  Gorgeous, sexily commanding, and breathtakingly rough, I couldn’t believe my eyes at first when he turned me around, but he was a literal definition of a sex god. It’s a term that I picked up watching movies. They can be quite educational, but Alex says they’re garbage and he doesn’t want me watching them anymore.

  They taint my head with the incorrect information, and I listen to him when he tells me to do something. I’m his good girl, and I want it to stay that way.

  He’s got dark hair, dark eyes, and broad shoulders with a height that towers over me. His powerful hands drive me wild when he holds me down and do whatever he wants with me. I ha
ve no say in it because he knows what’s best for me.

  The same hands that are taking the butter knife and peanut butter jar away. The piece of white bread lies blandly on my plate as I try to take the knife back, but he pins me with a disapproving stare. My hand shrivels back, and I curl them in my palms.

  He growls, “What are you doing?” His jaw clenches and it pretty much ended my concentration.

  My eyes follow the thickness of his neck to the broad shoulders and bulky muscles, tracing down the tattoos on his body as I feel a big dollop of sticky come falling from my puffy pussy and down on the ground.

  I try to catch it with my thighs, but it’s futile as it’s impossible to stop the sliding of more coming out of my tiny hole that he fucked open. He refuses to let me have panties on. His caveman side always wants me to be accessible to him.

  I like it when he’s so possessively drilling me into the bed and tearing the sheets while he pounds through my rippling walls.

  “Answer me, little girl.”

  My shoulders jerk, and I peer at him through my lashes, “Making peanut butter and jelly?”

  “What did you do wrong?” He rephrases, crossing his huge arms over his wide chest, and I want to lick them.

  I gulp down the thick saliva, and my lips twitch nervously, “Nothing?”

  His arms drop, and the power behind his action shocks me. I hold back a shiver as more cum leaks down to my thighs.

  “What was that?”

  I take a step back, squeaking as he advances towards me. “I-I wanted peanut butter and jelly…”

  “You broke a rule,” he states.

  I stop backing away and let him draw his hand around to my butt, squeezing the throbbing flesh from this morning. He had spanked me for trying to get out of bed without him, but I had to use the bathroom, so that was a valid reason.

  Just like the use of a butter knife. I got hungry when he was showering, and I knew the moment I picked up the knife, I had broken his rule. I can’t touch anything sharp. It’s one of the rules that he told me to memorize or he would make me say the rules out loud while he spanks me.