Page 27 of Unhinged Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #2)
Skye
The ballroom of the Cutters Cove wolf pack shimmered in the low lighting emulating from the gothic-style chandeliers above me.
It captured every sway of fabric, floating to music that drifted from unseen speakers.
Chiffon, lace and silk captured my eye the moment we entered the grand room.
I had officially died and gone to heaven, soaking up the cuts and colors of every material imaginable.
Every gesture and spoken word dripped with a wealth that was not humble here. Instead, it announced itself loud and proud.
In this establishment were riches earned, fated, and of course, Daddy’s.
Many outsider packs envied this pack, its reputation held highest in the nearby districts.
They kept our borders tight, ensured the safety of the townspeople, and, although we saw little of them, having the comfort of them here served the very purpose of attending these events.
A smile broke over my face as Morgan and Tyler came into view. I was right. The sleek midnight black dress I helped Tyler pick out for her looked much better off the rack and on her in person.
His distress call had made me laugh, but who was I to deny a brother’s cry for help.
“Guys, you look stunning!” I gushed as they came closer, a knowing glance passing between Tyler and me. “Morgan, your dress is divine.”
A laugh rushed from her, color faintly warming her cheeks.
This place was new to her, having only had her magic come to her fully a day ago.
I had a hunch things were going on behind the scenes with her and Tyler, but when he called me to help choose a dress and shoes for her to wear tonight, it was clear just how much he cared for her.
I had never known him to do anything like that, even with his late girlfriend, Ava.
Wesley stepped forward from beside me, brushing a kiss on the side of Morgan’s cheek. “Skye’s right. Stunning dress, Morgan.”
She smoothed over the front. “Thanks Wesley, not looking too bad yourself,” she replied, her voice a little shaky. It must be huge for her to attend a dance like this. Not long ago our 'kinds' didn’t exist in her mind. Tonight, she was mixing with them.
Wesley’s arm tightened slightly on mine, his attention turning to Tyler. “Skye’s my plus one for the evening. She didn’t want to come alone.”
Tension simmered between the two of them, unspoken words lingering in tense shoulders and tight jaws.
I didn’t know if Tyler would buy the lie, the whole brothers before lovers thing making me suddenly feel like a fraud.
When we figured all this out, we could tell him everything. But until then, we needed to wait.
Tyler remained silent, his gaze moving between the two of us before finally nodding. “Make sure she gets home safe tonight.”
I felt Wesley straighten beside me. “Of course.”
He rubbed his thumb over the bare skin on the underside of my forearm, so subtle it went unnoticed by anyone else. The tiny motion, his assurance we were in this together.
I hid my breath of relief, catching Wesley’s eye as the conversation moved to Colton, who hastily downed the contents in his champagne flute.
I couldn’t place the uneasy feeling nagging at me.
Something about Wesley felt different tonight.
He seemed tense, and understandably so having to play it cool around Tyler, but it felt bigger than that.
From the moment he had picked me up in a car that looked better suited to a VIP, care of the wolf pack, something had been off.
He appeared distracted, his stiff demeanor and tight words not his usual self.
I lifted my flute to my lips, taking a drink. Bubbles popped over my tongue as I swallowed. A few sips later, I felt the warm buzz of the liquor, a giant flare making itself known.
I surveyed the room again finding a familiar face. Wolf guy, from the night at Jinxed. He lifted his drink in acknowledgement.
Wesley’s hand immediately fell to the small of my back. “Let’s dance,” he said tightly.
I stole a glance in his direction, dropping to where he gripped the flute glass so tight I imagined it was near breaking point.
His hair was midnight chaos. Eyes a darkened forest trail I wanted to follow. Get lost in.
“That is not a good idea,” I challenged. The last thing we needed was to be pressed together dancing. Here, in front of my brother.
Wesley lifted his glass to his lips, taking a drink. His attention was still fixed hard on wolf guy.
“I want to dance with you, Skip.” He aimed his gaze back to me, claiming my attention fully.
“I’ve thought about what it would be like, how you would feel in my arms, many times.
” With his free hand, he ran his fingers down the underside of my forearm again, the forest trail beckoning me.
His voice weathered my self-restraint like sandpaper, each word another layer until I softened.
The lure, the bait. His trap.
Who was I kidding? I wanted to be caught. Captured in his embrace. I emptied my glass, sitting it on the mantle next to me, side-eyeing him. “We need to be careful,” I warned, turning to him.
He nodded, the forest trail brightening. “We do.” He discarded his own drink, looking at me once more.
When I didn’t move, the featherlight touch of his hand on my elbow edged me forward, sliding between couples dancing until the antique chandelier in the center of the ballroom hung above us.
Couples swayed shoulder to shoulder either side of us, a mixture of wealth, dopamine, and sex all rolled into a finely tuned seductress. I was powerless in her embrace.
Wesley pulled us closer until the fabric of his suit jacket brushed my breasts, my nipples pitching into tight peaks at the sensation of having not worn a bra.
A low rumble sounded from his chest. His hand clutched my waist.
“This is torture,” he whispered as we swayed to the music, his irises confessing sins he held within.
His fingers warmed the palm of my hand. I wanted to melt into his chest completely. Lean my head on his shoulder.
He was right, this was torture. I wanted to touch him, to kiss him.
Between the bodies of dancing couples, anything from the shoulders down was lost to curious eyes.
His palm slid over my hip bone, explored the curve of my ass ever so discretely.
When it slipped between us, I froze, his knuckles lingering on my tattoo for a fraction of a moment before heading toward my hip bone.
I wasn’t expecting the graze of his knuckles to affect me the way they did.
“Wes,” I gasped, clutching his shoulders through the fabric of his suit jacket.
A groan fell from him, his mouth coming to my ear. “I love it when you say my name like that.”
I squirmed under his delicate touch. This man .
A low rumble came from deep in his throat. He knew what his touch did to me, knew the fabric beneath the featherlight skate of his knuckles may well have been nonexistent.
It was a defiant thing. A giant fuck you to the world. Subtle, yet dominant at the same time. It screamed, 'She’s mine, even when the universe is against us.'
Trying to act like I wasn’t about to fall apart in the arms of my brother’s best friend in public was nearly impossible. My eyelids wanted to slam shut. To give in to it all.
To dance like no one was watching and just for one second, enjoy him the way I wanted to.
I grabbed hold of his wrist, words shuddering from me. “This is too much, not here.”
A look of understanding passed between us before his lips grazed my ear, goosebumps scattering over my skin at the contact. “Meet me outside, by the fountain.”
For a fraction of a second our fingers brushed before he made his way through the dance floor, disappearing from sight.
I let five minutes lapse before I passed through the glitzy crowd, stopping to make small talk to people on my way.
When the side door I knew led outside came into view, I pushed it open.
Cold blanketed my skin, making me shiver.
I gathered my dress in my hands, hitching it off my feet, the door shutting silently behind me, muting the sounds from inside.
The click of my heels as I descended the steps announced my arrival in the deafening quiet.
The still of night. Nocturnal eyes followed me under a breathtaking moon where it lit the narrow footpath ahead of me, leading to where I knew the water fountain tucked into a secluded corner of the landscaped gardens.
I wrapped my arms around myself, slowing as it came into view, not seeing Wesley anywhere.
The wolf-shaped fountain stood in the center of a shallow pool of water, splashes cutting through the night’s silence, making it hard to hear anything else.
I scanned the area, following the well-manicured hedging circling it, still not seeing him.
Where was he?
Pulling myself up onto the concrete wall surrounding the water, the cold cradled my ass through the thin material of my dress. I clicked my heels, waiting. Wondering if I had heard him wrong. I was sure he said the water fountain.
My heart fluttered when his silhouette slid out from behind the only other entrance.
His suit jacket draped over one shoulder, revealing a black waistcoat that hugged his chest overtop of a white dress shirt.
He moved toward me, his gaze never wavering from mine.
Lifting a hand to his tie, he loosened it slightly; the motion exposing skin I wanted to touch.
I instinctively wet my lips, his hungry stare dropping to them, watching.
Wesley stepped closer, each footstep making my heart burst in my chest. He slid his suit jacket off his shoulder, draping it around mine. I slid my arms into it, the scent of him lingering on the material.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” he murmured as his fingers slipped under my dress, spreading my knees until he comfortably nestled between them. He traced the inside of my thighs with his thumbs. My skin tingled in response.