Page 118
Story: Bewitched
Then he’s reaching for my shirt, grabbing the hem and—
Riiiip.
I gasp as the material splits down the middle, revealing my stomach and bra.
“What are you doing?” I demand. I shiver as the cool air hits my skin.
“Assessing your injuries,” he growls, flicking his gaze to my pants.
He pulls out a wicked-looking blade that was strapped to his side.
At the sight of it, I go still.
His eyes move back to mine, and his expression softens. He takes my hand and clasps it tightly, the hilt of his dagger brushing against my palm.
“Don’t be frightened, little witch,” he says. “This is so I can remove your pants and assess your injuries. Your clothes are”—he takes a bracing breath—“too blood soaked to pull off without jostling you.”
Blood soaked?
I don’t believe him, not until I glance down my torso and see the massive red stains myself. I didn’t realize my wounds were that bad—the robe obscured them from view.
I drag my attention back to him. A muscle jumps in his cheek, like he’s only barely holding in some emotion. His eyes run over my face as though he can’t help but take me in.
“Can I continue?” Memnon asks.
Swallowing, I nod.
He gives my hand a squeeze, then lays it down with the sort of care that makes me feel breakable. With his knife, he carefully cuts my jeans away, slicing open one pant leg, then the other.
I’m left in nothing but my bra and underwear, but Memnon only has eyes for my wounds. His indigo magic thickens and coils around him.
“Your enemies’ deaths will be slow,” he vows, and there is far too much conviction in his eyes.
I’m too weary to argue with him about this when my limbs are trembling, either from shock or exertion.
Gingerly, he lifts one of my feet, inspecting the pad of it. I already know the flesh down there is torn up. I felt the cuts I collected as I ran barefoot. By that point, I was too determined to care.
“You should’ve used my magic to heal yourself,” he chastises lightly. I notice then what I hadn’t before—Memnon’s foreign accent is gone, though how it vanished is a mystery.
“I was busy,” I rasp.
He inclines his head, like I make a fair point, setting my leg back down so he can shrug off the leather jacket he’s wearing. Beneath it, he wears a fitted black T-shirt. Even feeling like roadkill at the moment, I still manage to admire his thickly corded arm muscles and the tattoos that run along them.
Memnon tosses his jacket over the back of my desk chair, and that simple action is natural, as though he’s at home in my space, and I don’t know why I like it. It should tick me off.
It probably will tomorrow when I don’t feel like death warmed over.
The sorcerer kneels next to the bed. Gently, he reaches for the wound along my torso, the one Nero accidentally gave me. His touch is featherlight, but I still hiss out a breath at the contact.
“Relax, my wildcat,” he says, giving me an endearing look.
The sight of it throws me completely, and my weary heart picks up speed.
Memnon murmurs something under his breath, and I feel the tingling brush of his power against my side.
I grimace as, under his touch, my flesh repairs itself. It’s not painful, but it doesn’t feel good either. I try to wiggle away from it, but Memnon’s other hand braces my torso, holding me in place with a casual sort of familiarity. That too has my pulse picking up, and my brows come together.
“Good woman,” he praises, his eyes on my wound. “You’re taking it so well. So well.”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70
- Page 71
- Page 72
- Page 73
- Page 74
- Page 75
- Page 76
- Page 77
- Page 78
- Page 79
- Page 80
- Page 81
- Page 82
- Page 83
- Page 84
- Page 85
- Page 86
- Page 87
- Page 88
- Page 89
- Page 90
- Page 91
- Page 92
- Page 93
- Page 94
- Page 95
- Page 96
- Page 97
- Page 98
- Page 99
- Page 100
- Page 101
- Page 102
- Page 103
- Page 104
- Page 105
- Page 106
- Page 107
- Page 108
- Page 109
- Page 110
- Page 111
- Page 112
- Page 113
- Page 114
- Page 115
- Page 116
- Page 117
- Page 118 (Reading here)
- Page 119
- Page 120
- Page 121
- Page 122
- Page 123
- Page 124
- Page 125
- Page 126
- Page 127
- Page 128
- Page 129
- Page 130
- Page 131
- Page 132
- Page 133
- Page 134
- Page 135
- Page 136
- Page 137
- Page 138
- Page 139
- Page 140
- Page 141
- Page 142
- Page 143
- Page 144
- Page 145
- Page 146
- Page 147
- Page 148
- Page 149
- Page 150
- Page 151
- Page 152
- Page 153
- Page 154
- Page 155
- Page 156
- Page 157
- Page 158
- Page 159
- Page 160
- Page 161
- Page 162
- Page 163
- Page 164
- Page 165
- Page 166
- Page 167
- Page 168
- Page 169
- Page 170
- Page 171
- Page 172
- Page 173
- Page 174
- Page 175
- Page 176
- Page 177
- Page 178
- Page 179
- Page 180
- Page 181
- Page 182
- Page 183
- Page 184
- Page 185