Page 84 of The Unbound Witch

“Eternally single, huh?”

I stepped aside, and he dragged himself to standing, swayed to the left a bit, crashed into the door frame with a yelp and then flopped on the floor inside the door. Within seconds, the pup was snoring. Scoop lifted his head to investigate, jumped over Talon, and pounced on the wolf. Atlas didn’t move an inch as Scoop kneaded his kitten paws into his side, spun three times on top of him, and curled into a ball. The sheer black fur, a beautiful contrast to the wolf’s white.

“I don’t even want to know why your familiar just snuggled a drunk wolf,” Nym whispered, her smile radiating through the room.

“Atty is harmless,” I answered. “Scoop only sees the goodness in him… But don’t fucking tell him that. He’ll brag for days.”

32

RAVEN

“Hesitation is a breeding ground for disaster.”

I threw a hand on my hip. “And what, may I ask, Your Grace, isdistractiona breeding ground for?”

Lifting an eyebrow, I smirked as his smug grin melted. Shadows cascaded along the ground below him, as if he floated on air rather than stood on the snow-covered earth outside his favorite mountainside cabin. Then I blinked, and he was gone, swallowed whole by the shadows. Firm fingers crossed my belly before I even registered the movement.

He pulled, jerking my back against his chest as he spoke into the crook of my neck. “Endless heaps of pleasure.”

Bringing my arm up, I turned into him, only giving myself a second to let his body heat mine before casting. Bastian let out a sharp hiss on impact as he was thrown over the side of the mountain. I waited a beat. And then another. Until wings flapped, and he surged back over the top landing before me with predatory grace.

“You’re getting predictable, Miss Moonstone.”

I kicked at the hard crust of snow on the ground. “I could turn your dick blue for fun?”

He brushed a thumb across his lips, eyes darkening. “Does magical color accompany a flavor?”

I wiggled my fingers in the air. “Only one way to find out.”

Jerking the band of his pants open, he looked down, wide eyed. I used the opportunity to strike him with real magic, lighting his pants on fire from behind. He yelped and dashed for me with a playful growl. I turned to run, feigned an injury to my ankle, and fell into the snow.

Bastian drew short, instantly concerned. He stepped close, and I cast again, corded vines wrapping around his ankles and dragging him backward.

“Hesitation is a breeding ground for disaster, Your Grace.”

He countered, smothering me in inky shadows until I couldn’t see a thing. I cast blindly, sending forward frost in abundance. The shadows dropped just in time for me to see a blue-lipped king, all color gone from his face, breaths visible in the air, be dragged over the edge of the mountain by the vines.

I peeked over as he fell. “Truce?”

Knife in hand and wings combating the wind, he didn’t say a word as he tackled me to the ground. He wrapped his wings around us then heated the area until his face softened.

“This is supposed to be a training lesson,” he rumbled into my ear.

“Then why are you getting your ass kicked?”

“Because, Little Witch, you are a delicious distraction.”

* * *

The most beautifulman I’d ever laid eyes on leaned over the long counter separating the living area and kitchen of the hidden mountain cabin, perusing an ancient map as I studied him. The sun pouring in through the windows fell on his long, dark lashes; the beard he kept groomed, slightly unkempt from these last chaotic days. With the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up, showing the corded muscles of his arms, he could have been a daydream. Or a nightmare, depending on who stood before him.

I stared, remembering the first time we’d come to this cabin. What he’d done with hot wax and ice, commanding my body. Shocking me. Taking me to places I never knew existed without ever leaving this room.

A piece of fiery black paper fluttered from the ceiling, landing in my outstretched palm.

I believe you’re staring, Miss Moonstone.

“I might be,”I whispered.