Page 4 of Spice (Unhinged Holidays #1)

“Oh,” she says softly, and the way that sound wraps around my heart makes me grip the steering wheel tighter.

Having my hand on her is stoking something inside me, and I feel like a wild, feral beast, ready to rut.

I’d never expected finding Cordelia’s descendant and breaking the curse to feel like this.

And yet, amidst the chaos of lust and wonder and gratitude and hope, I also feel the unmistakable dull stab of guilt.

Because I haven’t told my pretty witch everything. Breaking the curse doesn’t just require sex.

I have to breed her.

To break the curse, I have to create a child with Cordelia’s descendant. I have to permanently tie my bloodline to hers to repair what I did. To make amends for what I took.

I just hope that our combined magics are enough to make conception possible tonight, no matter where she is in her cycle. Given how powerful she is, I think it’s very possible.

A horn blares, and I realize I’ve been sitting at a green light.

I proceed through the intersection, my shoulders tense.

My arm is pulsing, tingling, my palm hot and prickling pleasantly where it lies on her thigh.

I don’t miss the way she squirms in her seat.

I wonder how the one man she dated fumbled her—and a fumble it was, because she’s extraordinary—but I don’t ask.

I add it to the list of things I want to know about her once we’ve broken the curse.

She shifts closer to me, and I inhale deeply. She smells like cinnamon and nutmeg with a hint of coffee.

Good enough to eat.

A few minutes later, we pull up in front of my house. It’s just outside of the town of Moonveil, and surrounded by forest on three sides. I bought it about a hundred and twenty years ago, when I came over from England, and I’ve lived here ever since.

“You live in a freaking castle?” says Willow, leaning forward and peering through the windshield.

“Not a castle. Just a large house.”

“That looks like a castle.”

“But isn’t one. I have no moat, no fortified walls, no battlements. This was built in 1881, not the medieval period.”

She gives me a playful look. “Ah yes, the medieval period, when you were still a young man,” she teases, and I find myself grinning.

“Not only is she going to save my life, but she’s got jokes, ladies and gentlemen.”

She laughs, but it fades quickly, and she leans back in her seat, her hands twisted together. “Are…are you really sure I’m the one?”

“I am,” I answer instantly.

“I know we have…” She gestures between us. “Chemistry. Literal sparks. Whatever you want to call it. But how can you be sure?”

“Because I can feel you, Willow. Because my magic has never acted this way. It’s riled up. Hungry and desperate. Needy. And I know it won’t go away until I’ve been inside you.”

Claimed you. The words pulse through my brain, and I barely restrain myself from saying them out loud. The longer I’m around her, the stronger the feeling gets.

Willow Ashwood is fated to be mine.

And it’s time to make her see that, too.

Her eyes meet mine, and I don’t hesitate.

I lean forward and claim her mouth with a desperation that shocks me.

Her lips are so, so soft, yielding to mine instantly.

She gasps softly, parting those pillowy lips and letting me in.

I slip my tongue into her mouth, tasting her eagerly.

Cinnamon bursts across my tongue, and I groan, exploring her. Claiming her.

Kissing Willow is one of the best things I’ve ever done. I’m already addicted to her.

Her hands fist in my coat, pulling me closer, and I tangle my hands in her hair and dislodging her bun.

I tilt her head so I can kiss her even deeper as her hair spills around her shoulders.

She meets my hunger with her own, matching my energy, tasting and exploring me as much as I am her.

She’s eager and passionate, and I can taste the heady, intoxicating flavour of her lust.

I slide my hands from her hair and to her face, cupping her, running my thumbs over her cheekbones.

She moans against my mouth, pushing at my coat.

Magic explodes around us, filling the car with sparkling blue and pink fog.

The car radio sputters, the volume going haywire as the engine revs and the outdoor lights on my house dim and flare.

I drop my hands to her waist, holding her in place as I taste and devour, our tongues sliding together as though we’ve done this a thousand times. I let out a growl when she sucks on my bottom lip, then grazes her teeth over it.

This is not a normal kiss. This is fate. I can taste my future on Willow’s pretty lips.

What a fucking shame it would be to have the ritual fail just when I’ve found my fated mate.

The car starts to shake, and I pull away reluctantly, pressing my forehead to hers as I try to catch my breath. Her breathing is just as ragged, as though we’ve just sprinted up several flights of stairs.

The urge to kiss her again, to reconnect our mouths, is overwhelming and intense. It takes every ounce of willpower I have not to haul her into my lap and kiss her until we’re both a mess.

“Why did my grandmother curse you? What did you do?”

I go still, my heart rate kicking up for an entirely new reason as some of my lust dissipates. The lie hangs from the tip of my tongue. I could say it was a mistake. That it was unfair. That I didn’t deserve it.

But none of that would be true, and Willow deserves honesty. It’s the least of what she deserves.

“I stole something that belonged to her. Something I needed but had no right to take. A sacred family heirloom and artifact. I was arrogant, thinking I needed it more than she did. So she cursed me, and frankly, I deserved it.”

She pulls back slightly, eyes searching my face. I can tell my honesty’s surprised her. Frankly, it’s surprised me, too. Then again, the past hour has been one giant surprise.

“What exactly did you steal?”

“A talisman infused with ancient magic, handed down for generations in your family. So now, to lift the curse, I have to give her bloodline something in return.”

“Why couldn’t you have simply given back the talisman?”

“Because it was destroyed in the ritual for which I needed it.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I can see the swirl of emotions there.

“Okay.” She blows out a breath. “Okay.” And then she steps out of the car, closing the door behind her.

I shut off my poor car and step out too, wind brushing my hair against my cheek.

It’s dark out here. Quiet. Clouds race in front of the full moon, making shadows fade and bloom.

I walk the few steps to where she’s standing, staring up at my house.

I take her hand, welcoming the already familiar rush of sensation that explodes up my arm when our skin touches.

She looks down at our joined hands, but doesn’t move to pull hers away.

I give her hand a gentle squeeze and she inhales audibly.

“Is it just me or is this…this magic…getting stronger?”

I shake my head. “It’s not just you. I think…” Again, truth and dishonesty go to war inside me, and again, truth wins out. “I think it might be a mating bond.”