Page 29

Twenty-Nine

ELSPETH

T he fire in the hearth crackled, and I relaxed back into the cushioned couch as I sipped on tea and nibbled on some crackers one of the servants had brought. As soon as we’d gotten back, Draven called the housemaid to get me dry and into new clothes. After I’d stopped shivering, I visited Adelaide. Elm had been by her side reading a book while she slept, so I let them be, telling him to let me know as soon as she awoke.

I took another sip of my tea, the flavors of cinnamon and orange mingling on my tongue. These tea leaves must’ve been from the local tea shop, Steeped in Love. I hadn’t had a chance to visit yet, but I’d heard they sold some of the best tea in the Witchlands.

I inhaled deeply, drawing my knees up to my chest.

“You look like you’re dry now,” Draven said from the doorway.

“I am. I loathe the cold,” I said. “So the fire is welcome.”

I twisted around in my seat as Draven entered the room in a soft pair of brown trousers and a simple linen shirt, the neckline opened so I could see his chest and the thick dark hair that covered it.

I stood, and his gaze dipped as he stared at my legs.

Witch’s tits. I’d forgotten what I was wearing. The only thing the housemaid could find was an older overly large tunic that hung down just above my knees.

Draven swallowed thickly, and my cheeks heated.

“It was the only thing available,” I explained.

“Yes.” His gaze darkened. “Of course.”

I dropped back onto the couch, and Draven came to sit next to me. He leaned forward and grabbed a teacup off the small table. He lifted the kettle and poured the orange-colored water into it. Steam rose in the air, curling between us.

“Thank you for saving me,” I said as he sat back. “I would still be stuck in that mud if it weren’t for you.”

He didn’t meet my gaze, staring into the fire. “You’re welcome.” He took a sip of his tea. “How did you learn to throw a punch like that?” The corner of his lips tipped up ever so slightly.

I rolled my eyes. “I have three sisters.”

He quirked a brow. “And you punch them regularly?”

“Not them.” His gaze turned rueful, and I snorted. “Anyone who might hurt them.”

“That’s a story I’d like to hear,” he said. “And we have time.” He gestured out the window, the sky black, the rain still pouring down.

I shifted to face him and tucked a leg underneath me. “It was someone pursuing Auggie.”

“One of your younger sisters?” Draven asked.

I nodded. “Auggie is flirtatious, impulsive. She has a tendency to invite trouble. We were staying outside the village of Sunhaven, selling potions, when I realized that Auggie had been missing for hours. I’d seen her in town earlier, flirting with some boy, and I’d told her to be back at camp for dinner.” I still remembered the panic that seized me when I realized Auggie hadn’t returned to camp.

Draven stared at me with that intense gaze of his as he listened.

“I immediately ran back to town, searching everywhere for Auggie, when I heard a scream.”

Draven stiffened.

“I found that same boy cornering her in an alley. He’d made Auggie some stupid promise, told her he had connections, could make her famous if she came back to the inn with him where he was staying.”

“Famous?” Draven asked .

I waved a hand. “Auggie’s dream. She wants to be someone. A bard, an opera singer, a stage actor, a writer. I don’t think it matters. She just loves the attention and anyone who can give it to her.” I shook my head. “She doesn’t always make wise choices. But as they neared the inn, I think she must’ve gotten cold feet, maybe realized something was off. So she ran. The boy didn’t like it, and he chased her.”

Draven’s fists curled at his side.

“I didn’t even think as I saw him cornering my sister. I just marched right up to him and threw a punch at his jaw. Mama taught us all when we were younger. Self-defense.”

Draven looked impressed, something I surmised didn’t happen very often with him.

“Now the real question is”—I leaned forward—“how did you learn to do magic like that?”

Draven cleared his throat. “I was born with it. I didn’t do anything. It’s just how my magic works.”

“But why work at the tavern?” I asked. “Why sell ale when you have such amazing power?”

He sighed and drained his cup, then set it down. “I haven’t always worked at the tavern. Georgie and I moved here a year ago.”

I shook my head, not understanding. “But you have this manor...”

“Where Georgie lived with our parents. They built this place when Georgie was five years old. I was already out of the house, attending Institute. But they wanted more stability for Georgie rather than how I grew up, traveling with them, moving from place to place. So they returned here, where they were from. Where they’d met. They built this manor, raised Georgie here until they died.”

My heart clenched. “I’m so sorry.”

“As her guardian, I figured the best place to raise Georgie was back here. But I’m afraid this manor brings back a lot of painful memories.”

I took a sip of my tea, then set it on the table. “So that’s why you stay in the apartment above the tavern.”

He nodded. “I bought the tavern when we got here, took it over so I could give Georgie the stability my parents wanted for her.”

Suddenly I felt like I understood him so much better. Maybe he was gruff and rough around the edges, but he had a lot of responsibility on his shoulders .

“Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake. Georgie had a chance to stay with her grandmother, but I thought I’d be the better option.” He shook his head. “But I can’t connect with her.” He twisted his body, leaning forward and facing me. “I’ve seen you with your sisters. You have a connection with each of them. You know them, know their weaknesses, their strengths. I don’t have that kind of bond with Georgie.” He sighed. “I envy you.”

My mouth dropped open. “You envy me? But you hate me.”

His gaze snapped to mine, eyes flashing. “I don’t hate you.” His eyes dipped down to my bare legs, now almost touching his knees.

“I admire you. You’re brave,” he murmured. “You protect your sisters at all costs.”

I’d never thought of myself as brave. I just did what I needed to do. It felt nice for someone to notice me, to appreciate me. To see me.

I leaned forward. “So if you can do all this powerful magic, why not use it at your manor?” I gestured. “I noticed servants everywhere. You could just spell everything to do the work for you instead of paying people.”

He shook his head. “Those people need jobs. My parents... they always insisted we hire staff, that just because we happen to be more powerful, happen to have access to powerful spells, it doesn’t mean we have to use them. So many of these people have worked at this manor for over a decade.”

I’d gotten so much wrong. I’d thought him arrogant and horrid, but he had a heart. A big one, and it was starting to melt my own.

I placed a hand on his thigh. “That’s incredibly kind.”

His gaze drifted to my lips, where it lingered. The world faded to nothing but him, me, and this couch, which seemed to be happening a lot lately. Heat pooled between my legs, and I wondered what it would be like to have his fingers there, rubbing slow circles.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice quiet and low.

I swallowed, thinking about our previous kiss, how much I’d regretted it ending. “It’s just a kiss.” I leaned forward, our lips almost touching. “There’s no harm in it,” I breathed, not sure what had come over me. All I knew was that in this moment, I needed him or I was going to burst.

He met me the rest of the way, lips brushing against mine, kiss featherlight and somehow searing. He trailed his lips over my jawbone, inhaling my scent as I dropped my head back.

“You smell like fresh rain,” he murmured. “Like moss, earth. It’s intoxicating.” He pressed his lips to my jaw. “You’re intoxicating.”

I gasped as he placed his hands on my thighs.

Everything about this man was so intense. It was something I thought I hated about him but now was coming to appreciate. He squeezed my thighs, fingers digging into my skin, and his lips met mine again.

He kissed me deeply, mouth coaxing mine open, tongue slipping inside. I settled onto his lap and spread my legs around his waist. His cock stiffened against me, and I rubbed myself against his hardness.

He moaned into me, fists clutching my shirt the same way he’d clutched my dress when we’d kissed before.

“Let me touch you,” he said, voice low, almost a growl.

“Yes,” I said, breathless.

His hand dipped between my legs, and he slipped it under my panties.

“You’re so wet, Elspeth. Is that for me?”

“Yes,” I said again, apparently unable to say anything else, desire for him burning through me.

His hand hovered over my center, right where I wanted him to touch me.

“So fucking soaked.” His hand skimmed my inner thigh, stoking my need for him. He lightly trailed his fingers to my other inner thigh, where he brushed my skin in soft strokes.

All I could do was cling to him and hope that he touched me where I wanted before I exploded. He moved his fingers to my throbbing core, his hand hovering but not quite touching.

“Is this where you want me?” he whispered.

I nodded, whimpering.

“Then show me how much you want it.”

His breath was so hot on my skin, skittering across me. I lifted myself and sat over his hand, then rubbed, feeling instant relief and a deeper need.

“That’s it. Show me what you need.”

He captured my mouth with his as I rocked back and forth over his hand, so firm and strong. He plunged his tongue into my mouth while his other hand skimmed up my torso, trailing over my skin and up to my nipple. He rolled his thumb around it, making me moan into him. Pleasure rolled through me, and he kissed me harder.

His fingers rubbed against my clit as I rocked faster, my body already unraveling. I hadn’t realized the kind of effect he’d have on me, how quickly he’d be able to wring this pleasure from me.

My orgasm hit hard, explosively. I cried out into his mouth as he kissed me and captured every sound I made.

I unraveled completely, crying out, body taut like a bowstring. He kept rubbing fast circles, kept my orgasm rolling through me in waves that left me gasping and, finally, limp in his arms. I pressed my forehead to his, chest heaving.

That had felt amazing. I’d never done anything like that before. Never rode a man’s hand.

“Ms. Moonflower,” a voice said.

I jumped out of Draven’s lap. His wavy hair was a tousled mess. I’d been running my hands through it the entire time, not even realizing it.

“Yes?” I asked the servant, a man with thick gray hair and a mustache. “Your sister is awake and asking for you.”

My sister. I jolted to a stand. Right. The entire reason I was here.

“Thank you.” I shot one backward glance at Draven as I hurried from the room.