Page 132 of Locke

“Don’t come, don’t come.” Locke chanted. I don’t know if he was talking to himself or me, but we both came anyway.

“Last one, then I’m leaving,” Grim wrote another note and Locke grabbed his wrist. Grim still had blood on his arm and Locke stuck out his tongue to lick up the blood from his best friend’s skin.

Grim growled and pulled his arm away, laughing. “You sick fuck, lick blood off your own mate.”

They both snickered and his cock jostled inside me.

Damn it.

As the last prospect entered, the small group’s attention was drawn to a striking woman with short white hair that barely brushed her jawbone. Her piercing purple eyes seemed to capture the light and reflect it back in a mesmerizing glow. Clad head to toe in sleek black, her skin was so pale it almost appeared blue under the dim lights. Despite the dark attire, there was a sweetness and gentleness emanating from her that couldn’t be hidden. It was as if she were a precious gem, waiting to be discovered in the darkness of her clothing.

Bear led her to the chair and instructed her to sit. She put her hands in her lap and stared at the both of us.

Her cheeks flared when she took a tentative sniff and gazed back down at her lap.

“Name?” Grim huffed, even though he very well knew who she was.

The woman gulped, her sharp cheekbones being a dead giveaway that she wasn’t a shifter, but something else entirely.

“Nefeli,” she said, louder than I thought she would. “Winter fae.”

Grim hummed. “I saw you fight. You used some of your frost. Any other power you have?”

Nefeli shifted in her seat, her fingers rapping on the rickety chair. When she caught sight of the dead body in the corner, her eyes widened. “I can control the wind. Yes, the wind,” she blurted.

I felt the excitement through the bond. Locke’s thumbs rubbed up against my breasts.

“Really, that’s interesting.” Locke tilted his head toward her. “It is a terrible feeling, to be rejected?”

Locke’s question confused me. Of course it was supposed to be painful, but he asked her this question?

Again, Nefeli gazed at the body.

“Best not lie,” Grim grumbled. “End up like that one.” Grim pointed his pen at the dead male in the corner.

Nefeli paled and a shiver of fear ran through her.

“I-I am technically not rejected,” she wetted her lips. “I never completed the bond. I just left. And my heart… it felt wrong to take someone else’s mate to break their bond.” Wetness pooled in her eyes and my heart broke for her.

Locke’s did too and his arms wrapped around me.

Oh, so he knew something I didn’t.

“Why did you leave?” he asked, leaving no room for her to reject his question.

Her voice trembled as she spoke, her eyes filling with tears. “He... had a family before me,” she began, her words barely audible. “But he didn’t bond with the female, he killed them when he first met me.” The weight of the revelation hung heavy in the air. “His son - he was just a baby.” A single tear ran down her cheek, glistening in the moonlight. “I ran, I couldn’t bear to be with a male like that.”

The room was silent, even Sizzle was stunned into silence.

“And this male hasn’t bonded with anyone else. You haven’t felt the bond break? What about bond sickness?”

She shook her head. “The bond hasn’t broken. As for bond sickness, the winter fae are known to have cold hearts,” she chuckled to lighten the mood.

It didn’t.

Nefeli reached in her pocket and pulled out a bag. Inside I could smell dried dirt, bones, and spices. “Some traveling sorceresses gave me a recipe to help with any sort of bond sickness. When female fae ovulate the bonding sickness is at its worst. I put it under my tongue, and the bitterness settles it. I’ve lived with the sickness so long I’ve become numb.”

This poor woman.“She needs to see Journey,”I linked Locke, as I tried to concentrate with his dick deep inside me.