Page 7 of Entwined
“I’m making a point,” the warlock—Vaelor—returns.
“To fucking who? Because I’m about to blow in this damn hallway. And if she comes right now, I won’t be responsible for what my wolf does.”
A distant, fuzzy part of me registers the strangeness of a friendship between a wolf and a warlock, knowing the two paranormal species don’t often mix. But it’s lost when those fingers disappear like mist, leaving me on the precipice and throbbing with need. I whimper pitifully, vaguely registering Selena’s look of disgust.
“What’s going on here?” a voice demands. I feel everyone’s attention shift to the professor striding toward us from behind. Vaelor’s arms fall away as he half turns. Not letting myself second-guess, I bolt.
CHAPTER FOUR
vaelor
The lighter flicks open and shut, the metallic snap loud in the sparse room. The hiss of the flame feels dangerous, especially when I can feel his eyes locked on me, malevolent tension filling the air.
I press the pad of my thumb to each finger, one after the other. When I’m done, I do it again—slow and methodical—feeling the sizzle in my fingertips that cautions me of a spiral of power.
I need to purge.The magic builds, overflowing, until it feels as if the destructive force is seeping out of my pores. When it gets like this, I usually go out into the forest to “ground”the power, purging it back into the earth. But I’m not ready to be distracted.
The circular tower window is smudged and dirty, a cobweb stretching out over the top corner. We’re in a spire on the western side of the castle, but it isn’tours—technically. We claimed it unofficially in our first year, wanting a retreat away from everyone else. It only took a few weeks before word got out that bad shit happened to anyone who dared climb up here.
My lips curve. Most of it was rumors we’d spread ourselves, but there’s always a little truth in rumor.
The lighter hisses again, closer this time. A threat. But I don’t take my eyes off the grimy panes of glass, my focus fixated on the dorm building outside.
I can’t see her, but I know she’s in there.Hiding.
It bothers me when Felicity is out of my sight—more than I’d ever admit—but especially when she’s hiding away like a little mouse in her hole. From here, there’s no possible way of knowing who she’s talking to or what she’s doing. And both Connor and I have already experienced enough of that through her escapades with her roommate.
The power flares with my irritation, the sizzle in my fingertips spreading with a sharp surge until it feels like my entire palm is being held over a flame.
A rustle of movement, followed by stomping feet, has me glancing over my shoulder as Connor starts pacing the small room.
The lighter flicks open, flares, and then snaps closed.
I eye him, wondering how pissed he’d be if I threw the fucking thing out the window. His brows are furrowed, mouth flattened into a tight line, his steps jerky and agitated as he moves.
“I’m not sure I understand the problem,” I tell him impassively, leaning my shoulder against the window.
“You aroused her,” he grits out, jaw clenched and muscle jumping wildly.
Wide blue eyes fill my mind, dazed with desire and uncertainty. She is a delicate little thing, even for a human, and I know that Connor is going to have to watch his strength when he…handlesour mate.
“Yes.”
“You fucked her with your magic.”
A sly smile tugs at my lips, but I angle my head away, knowing it won’t take much to set the wolf off. It’s fun to taunt him occasionally, but it’s a bitch healing from shifter claws, and I don’t want him to mark up my face.
Not when it’s almost time.
“I wouldn’t sayfucked,” I muse. “I would say Ilightly fingeredher with my abilities.” Humor under control, I lazily turn back to look at him again, watching as he pockets the lighter, leaning over the back of an old settee in the middle of the room, his claws pricking into the musty fabric.
“Vaelor,” Connor says slowly, as if he’s speaking to an imbecile. I slide him a narrow-eyed look. Connor doesn’t appear to notice as he keeps going. “You fingered her, but didn’t get her off. That means you left her aroused as fuckin’ hell, walking away with it dripping between her legs. There are three scenarios I see happening here.”
I go still, my eye twitching as a tingle flares at my fingertips. He notices, his eyes sharpening with a feral gleam. “First and least likely,” he starts, “she comes and finds us to ease the ache. Second, she goes and fucks her own fingers or a toy or what-fuckin’-ever.”
My eyes narrow, danger rising in my chest like a bubbling pool of lava. “What’s the last option?”
He stands then, two inches shorter than me but broader, and full of raw, wolven fury. “She goes and fucks someone else!” He roars, but I don’t flinch away from him, my mind whirling.