Page 14 of The Witch’s Fate (The Lunaterra Chronicles #13)

RYKER

S he’s beautifully awkward. Out of place in her own home.

She blushes when she peers at me over her shoulder…

as if I wouldn’t notice her stolen glances.

She clears her throat in this adorable dainty way and seems as if she’ll say something, but words fail her.

This all-powerful witch that so many fear is no doubt potent with her magic, but she is more of a prey than a hunter.

My wolf is tempted and yet sated merely in her presence.

It’s obvious that I get to her and I enjoy knowing that fact. Idalis peers down at me, appearing innocent with her wide doe eyes and almost delicate in the waning firelight. Her fingers flutter at her throat as if she wants to drop her hand and look stoic but can’t.

“You didn’t alarm me,” she lies. Again she clears her throat in a way that’s cute. I never thought that was possible before laying eyes on her. “I wasn’t alarmed. I only thought you were sleeping.”

“You weren’t sleeping either.” My response comes with a casual tone, easy and as if unimportant although every nerve ending in my body stands on edge just from talking to her.

Just from being up in the late hours with sleep at our fingertips…

just as close as the bed is. My cock hardens at the thought of taking her to bed and truly exhausting ourselves how desire intends.

Now I find myself clearing my throat and attempting to rid my mind of the image lest the witch finds out my sordid thoughts. I must be a gentleman.

“No.” Finally, she lowers her hand, only to clasp it with her other hand. “No, I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I would try to cast a portal.” Disappointment lingers in her tone, and I wish it didn’t. I have no desire for her to create a portal tonight.

I thought that is what she might be doing, though I could not tell with her back turned.

“Did it work?” I question without hinting at my hope that it failed.

“It didn’t,” she answers, shaking her head and pursing her lips.

My gaze lingers over the curves of her nightgown, the hem well within my reach; another level of hardship.

Idalis’ scent is sweet, like fresh flowers and a sugary confection that I cannot name.

I want to grab the hem of her nightgown and pull her down to the blanket with me.

I could suckle the curve of her delicate neck until the worried look disappears from her face, replaced with want and ecstasy.

I could spread her thighs and taste her there until I found where all that sweetness comes from. I could make her moan out my name and?—

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” she says quickly, thankfully interrupting my inappropriate thoughts, then steps around me and pads to her bed.

“You didn’t and it’s alright,” I manage, my throat tight and tense.

The blankets lift, then fall, sending a soft breeze of her scent toward me. Fucking hell.

My cock throbs with the torture of her being so close and yet untouchable. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t trust her. This witch has powers like I have never encountered before, and her wariness is salt in her scent.

What does she think of me? What does she think I will do to her?

Is she afraid that I might claim her?

I huff a humorless laugh at the thought, keeping the sound under my breath, and fold my arm under my head.

I know not what’s come over me only that I crave her more than I have ever craved another.

I am surely spellbound and desperate to resist. Time ticks with the thoughts becoming more and more vivid, agonizingly slow.

Idalis doesn’t sleep, either. I can feel her there, lying in her bed with her heart racing, mere feet from where I lie.

My mouth waters for the rest of the night. My cock never softens. I want her more with every heartbeat.

Perhaps I should have taken my chances in the forest last night, or started the journey back to my lands, but with us both awake and waiting for the other to speak, or move, or?—

Something else.

It’s torture.

She never speaks. Idalis is determined to lie as still as she can, it seems. She does so until the sun comes up.

When enough light sneaks in around her shutters, Idalis quietly climbs out of her bed and walks purposefully across the cottage to the bathing room.

When she comes out, she is dressed again—a dark green dress that looks as if it was woven from the land around her.

A pattern of wildflowers is embroidered at the hem and the cuffs of the sleeves.

She eyes me and when our gazes catch, she offers me a simper and another blush then looks away.

My head falls back and my eyes close from the vision she is.

I’m forced to suppress a growl of satisfaction.

She reaches up to her hair to tie it in a low bun at her neck, and the sight makes my wolf howl mournfully.

He longs to be allowed to touch her. He yearns to be allowed to bury his nose in the nape of her neck and breathe her in.

“The storm still brews… I’ll make tea,” she says, without looking at me. “I thought you would like some, but if you do not?—”

“I would love a cup.” I get to my feet quickly, trying to adjust myself subtly. “Thank you.” It’s then that the need to sleep truly hits me as I stand. I’ve gone days without sleep before, but this is different. The warmth and comfort teases me just as the sight of the witch does.

Idalis goes into the kitchen nook. I make a short stop at my pack and shut myself in the bathing room.

Splashing cold water on my face does nothing to relieve the intense hard-on I have nor does it rid the burning of my eyes needing rest. With both hands gripping the edge of the vanity, I drop my head down to stare at the offending erection. Fucking hell. What this woman does to me.

I wrap my fist around it, wanting more than anything to give in to the lust raging in my blood. Just to be past it all.

Would she know?

That’s the thought that makes me let go of my cock like it burned me. I shove my cock back into my clothes, gritting my teeth and thinking of raw blisters and lethal battle wounds to distract myself.

If Idalis can sense me stroking my cock to thoughts of her, then there is no chance she will help me recharge the crystals and summon the portal. No chance at all. The lone woman would kick me out, I’d imagine.

It is one thing to become stranded in a strange land while I have been sent on a mission. It is another thing to actively prolong my stay.

Both of us seem to be on our best behavior when I step out of the bathing room.

We have a quiet, polite breakfast of tea and toast with jam, then Idalis seats herself at her worktable, and I take some of the crystals out of my pack and carry them out to charge under what little sun peeks from the storm clouds. The rain is a mere sprinkle now.

The heavy clouds that sat over the cottage for hours yesterday are gone, and the gray wisps they left behind are beginning to break up and let the sun through. Perhaps once the storm has passed, the portal will work.

I go over to the oven—it is well-made of sturdy stone—and arrange the smaller crystals, then hold up the one that is still humming so I can call my commander and give him an update.

Jorge’s face appears in the facet. It wobbles for a few beats, then resolves into sharper clarity than it had in the dark under the trees.

“Ryker. Can you hear me?”

“I can.” I answer. “I’ve found the witch, and she offered me shelter but cannot open the portal.” Jorge’s slight raise of his eyebrow doesn’t go unnoticed, and I wonder if it’s her hospitality or her lack of ability that gives him pause. “Do you have news of the portal?”

He shakes his head with a grimace. “From what we can tell, all the portals in the entire territory are down. It’s as if there’s been a cloak thrown over the area.”

“All across this land?”

“Yes,” he confirms. “None of the portals will open, and we can’t open one to come to you.” It’s surprising how dread doesn’t come with his words. Left alone in between enemy territory and at the mercy of the witch…

“All right.” I try not to let the relief I can’t explain show on my face. “Perhaps once the rain has cleared…if not I will find my way back alone.”

“That’s not an option, Ryker. It’s too dangerous for you to go alone.”

My jaw clenches and I don’t immediately respond. I’m aware of the danger but I cannot stay here forever.

“Is there a chance this could be the witch’s doing?” Jorge asks, his eyes distant, like he has been thinking this problem over all night, just as I have.

“I don’t think so,” I answer.

“No?”

“Not at all. She doesn’t want me here.” My wolf aches at the thought, curling up around a wounded spot in the center of him, as if he had actually been clawed open or cut with a weapon of sharpened steel.

The tightness in my chest is shocking. I add, ignoring the wave of emotion, “She attempted to make a portal last night. Without success.”

Jorge ruffles a hand through his hair and looks past the crystal. I wonder what he sees on the other side, and would ask if I didn’t know this expression to mean he is thinking over the plan going forward.

“Perhaps,” he muses, after a minute. “It’s necessary to give fate time to heal whatever ails the territory.

The storm may be a cloak itself. Let us let it pass.

” His eyes meet mine in the reflection of the crystal, though his image wavers a little, as if it is caught in a strong wind.

“If the trouble does not wane, we will come to you one way or another.”

I don’t expect to feel another wave of relief at Jorge’s words, but I do. Comfort at the thought of being alone with Idalis. My curious little witch. My gaze drops slightly at the thought.

My little witch who doesn’t wish to spend more time with me. If she could have, she would have sent me through a portal of her own making last night.