Page 53 of Shifting Hearts

SEVEN

The Echo of Teeth

Emilia

I n the middle of the night, with the storm still raging outside, I wake up. I’m burning up inside. Need crawls through my body like a snake slithering it’s way through the underbrush. Lucian lies sleeping beside me, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm.

I run my fingertips along the scars on his torso and a growl falls from his lips, the sound shooting directly to my pussy. My hand lowers from his scars to envelop his impressive erection and he moans my name. Good. I hope he is craving me as much as I do him.

For long moments, I run my hand over the hardness, enjoying the feel of him in my hand.

A pearl of precum beads on the tip and I swipe it up with my thumb.

I stare at it for long moments before bringing my finger to lips and licking it off.

The salty sweetness explodes across my taste buds, and I can’t hold back my wanton moan.

I rub my thighs together, trying to get any kind of relief.

“Fuck,” he curses drawing my gaze. “If that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

His voice is hoarse with sleep but his gaze is burning with lust. I watch him closely as I shit and lower my lips to his erection. I kiss the angry red crown, drawing another curse from him. He looks like he is in pain as he continues to watch me.

“What are you doing to me, little witch?”

I smirk, licking the length of his thick cock. “Whatever I want. Unless you want me to stop.”

“Goddess no,” he growls, wrapping his hands in my hair.

I lower my mouth over his cock and apply pressure. His hips shoot up and force his thickness deeper into my mouth. A loud growl leaves him as he holds me in place, fucking my mouth.

“Fucking hell. How am I supposed to stay away from you after this?”

He isn’t talking to me and I’m well aware of how he feels but his words still sting. They always do. I pull my head back, forcing him to release my hair or hurt me. I crawl up his body before lowering myself onto his cock.

I ride him, thrusting my hips forward harshly as I chase the pleasure quickly building inside me.

His hands grip my hips harshly as he trusts up into me, fucking me from below.

I lose myself in the moment and just enjoy being with him this way.

I kneed my breasts and pull at my nipples, moaning as my orgasm falls over me.

He fucks me through the pleasure before rolling us over. His hips piston into me as he chases his own pleasure, his gaze locked with mine until he finds his own release.

Morning smells like ash and rain.

The cabin’s still dark, barely lit by the grey light slipping through broken windowpanes. Outside, the storm has passed, but the air feels strange, thick with static, like the sky hasn’t finished deciding what it wants.

Lucian’s arm is still draped over my waist. His skin is warm, branding me with the kind of weight I didn’t think I’d ever want again. And Goddess help me but I don’t want it, I fucking need it. I shift carefully, trying to slide out from under him without waking him.

His arm tightens. “Don’t,” he mutters, voice rough with sleep and something else. “Not yet.”

“I wasn’t leaving,” I whisper. “Just stretching.”

He doesn’t open his eyes. But his hand moves, tracing the curve of my hip like he’s memorizing it. I should push him away. Last night was insane. It was all heat and the bond and pure fucking madness. It wasn’t real though.

Still… “Do you regret it?” I ask, before I can stop myself.

Silence fills the space before he opens his eyes, and I know the answer before he says it.

“Yes.”

I sit up, dragging the thin excuse for a blanket with me. It’s not like I didn’t expect it. Lucian’s guilt hangs on him like a second skin, thick, unrelenting, and stitched from the tatters of a past he refuses to tell me about.

But hearing it still hurts.

“Of course,” I say lightly, voice brittle. “Why wouldn’t you? You’ve already rejected me once. Let’s make it a pattern.”

He doesn’t argue. He just sits up too, scrubbing a hand over his face like he’s already exhausted.

“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”

“Nothing ever is.”

“You don’t get it…”

“I do,” I snap, standing. “You want me when it’s easy. When I’m bleeding for you, when I’m bait, when I’m half-naked and silent. But when I want you back, when I ask for more than just scraps, you run.”

His eyes flash. “That’s not fair.”

“No? What’s fair, Lucian? That you get to screw me in the middle of a storm, pump me full of cum, and then act like it meant nothing in the light of day?”

He’s up in an instant, butt naked and furious. “Don’t twist this.”

“I’m not twisting anything. You’re the one who keeps twisting me . ”

And there it is. The truth between us. Jagged, raw, and real. Neither of us speaks as we dress. The air between us is sharp. Cold. And so full of things unsaid that I want to scream just to break it.

I lace my boots while he sharpens a blade. Like we’re getting ready for a war neither of us wants to admit we already lost. Outside, the forest is too quiet but that’s what saves us for fighting again.

The silence.

I freeze as we step off the porch. My breath clouds in front of me, wrong, too cold, and simply unnatural. It’s the middle of summer and the sun is already high in the sky.

Lucian stiffens beside me.

“Something’s here,” I whisper.

He nods. “Yes, we’re being watched.”

The air splits and then it is on us . The creature that crashes through the trees is bigger than the first. Taller than a man, shaped like a wolf and a corpse and a nightmare all in one.

Its eyes burn silver but not like the moonlight does in a true shifter wolf. No, this is magic. Witch magic. And it’s gaze is locked on me.

Lucian shifts mid-run, bones cracking, fur exploding across his skin, growl tearing from his throat like thunder. He slams into the thing before it reaches me, his teeth sinking into its shoulder and his claws raking across its spine.

But the creature doesn’t flinch. It laughs, dark and maniacal and my pulse spikes. This isn’t just some monster. It’s a message.

I fling a spell without thinking, fire and salt and blood, the kind that strips the soul bare. The thing recoils, shrieking, smoke pouring from its mouth. But it doesn’t die, it just changes its target.

Lucian.

It throws him through the air, and he lands hard. He hits a thick tree trunk with a sickening crack, and I scream before I can stop myself. My magic surges, wild, uncontrolled, and furious.

I hurl another spell. This one explodes in the creature’s chest, sending it staggering, limbs twisting, jaws snapping in agony.

Lucian shifts back, blood dripping from his mouth, breathing ragged. “Kill it,” he demands.

“I’m trying!” I yell back angrily.

He stumbles toward me, one arm hanging limp. His ribs are probably cracked or broken, and his eyes are glassy but he’s still trying to protect me. Still. Even now.

Something inside me snaps . And this time, when I call the spell, I call it with my real name. The one I buried. The one he doesn’t know.

Power answers and the ground splits beneath the creature’s feet. Roots rise like snakes, wrapping around its limbs, dragging the beast down into the earth. It fights against the grip but it’s too late.

I seal the spell with blood and the beast screams as it’s swallowed whole. Silence descends as I watch Lucian sinks to his knees.

“Emilia…”

I catch him before he falls. “I’ve got you,” I say, voice shaking. “I’ve got you.”

His head presses against my shoulder, and for once, just once, he doesn’t pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean…”

“I know.”

We’re both shaking but not from cold or the crash of the adrenaline though that is part of it. But from everything we refuse to say and everything we already feel.