mythean arcana 07 - witchs fate (27 page)

He met her gaze. She blinked up at him, her chest heaving. “Now, Malcolm. Inside me, please.”

He grasped her wrists and raised them above her head, as if he could keep her here forever, then reached down to adjust himself. His teeth clenched when he felt the heat of her entrance kiss the head of his cock.

“Yes,” she breathed, and tilted her head back, closing her eyes.

“No,” he growled. “Look at me. I want to see you.”

She glanced back at him and held his gaze with her own as he pressed his cock into her channel. His whole body tightened as she accepted him. Gods, the pleasure was blinding.

Aftershocks of orgasm fluttered through Sofia as Malcolm’s cock filled her. He was almost too big for her, pressing inexorably inside, but the pleasure still radiating through her made it easier to take him. She shifted, moaning at the stretching fullness as her muscles fluttered around him.

He loomed over her, his whole body huge and taught with muscle. His chest and biceps bulged as he held himself over her. When she glanced down to see his thick shaft disappearing inside of her, she could see the ridges of his abdomen and the neat black hair at his pubic bone.

She raised her gaze to his, remembering his command to look at him. His eyes were hot and desperate, his lips swollen and damp from her pussy, which he’d licked like he couldn’t get enough. 

Gods, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

Sofia cried out when his thumb started to make circles on her clitoris. His other hand threaded through hers near her head.

“I want to feel you come around me,” he said as his thumb drove her crazy. “I want to feel your little pussy clench on my cock.”

She tried to speak, but he pressed his cock deeper, slowly. He shuddered, clearly resisting the desire to pound into her. When his thumb picked up pace, she felt another orgasm begin to coil within her. 

“I’m close,” she breathed as the tension increased, spiraling tight. She filled her gaze with the sight of his face and straining chest, imagined what his cock must look like thrusting into her, thick and slick with her juices, sinking into her soft flesh. 

The visual was enough to push her over the edge, into a roaring climax that tore through her. As her pussy spasmed, Malcolm began to thrust, pushing her pleasure higher and harder. It felt as if every nerve ending inside her was alight, ten times as sensitive. 

She could feel the ridge of his cockhead, every inch of every thrust. She writhed beneath him, out of her mind, but he never stopped stroking her, never stopped thrusting. 

Finally, it faded enough that she could make eye contact again. Her breath caught at the look in his eyes. As if she were everything in the world that mattered to him. 

“I want this to last forever,” he ground out. “But I’m—so close.”

She shuddered as he picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster. His hand faltered on her clitoris and he gripped her hip, holding her steady. She didn’t need any more sensation to come. Just the sight of him, his jaw clenched and his eyes fierce, every muscle tensed and bulging, was enough to send her over the edge again. The orgasm tore through her, this one harder than the last.

“Ah, gods, I can feel you.” His brow furrowed as his fingertips bit into her ass and his hips lost their grace. 

Malcolm shuddered and roared through clenched teeth as the orgasm wracked him. His cock swelled and pulsed as his seed shot forth, propelling her orgasm to the point that her vision faded and pleasure overwhelmed her. 

Her head whirled as she came back to earth. Malcolm shook above her, his shoulders and chest heaving. He gently disengaged and collapsed beside her, then pulled her to him.

She curled into his side, exhausted and sated. At the edge of her mind, her impending death loomed. She’d accepted it, but in the meantime, she would enjoy every second with Malcolm. She wouldn’t tell him, she’d just take what goodness she could get with him before it was all over. They had at least two days left and she planned to enjoy them.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Malcolm woke early the next morning and extricated himself from tangled sheets. Sofia was draped over him, but he slipped out quietly. He turned to look down at her. Dawn light gleamed on her cheeks and the half-moons of her lashes. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful.

She looked perfect in his bed.

He brushed a hand over her cheek, regret washing through him. What could they have had if he hadn’t botched it all? A long life together. A good one. She’d be with him always. Maybe bearing his children—something he’d never considered or wanted before her.

As it was…

He shook his head and turned from her, headed toward the bathroom, flicking on the light and revealing the white marbled space. His power had earned him ridiculous wealth that had bought this immaculate castle. He couldn’t care less about it now.

A hot shower did nothing to help him find peace. They’d fight a battle in two days that might kill them both. If they lived, he’d have to leave Sofia.

He couldn’t win this, no matter how he tried.

After he’d dried and dressed in clean clothes, he returned to the bedroom. Sofia was still asleep, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave her. He went to stand by the window, gazing out at the mountains that had been his home for more than two hundred years.

The sheets rustled, but he didn’t turn. A moment later, he felt Sofia’s arms wrap around his waist. Longing suffused him, warm and cold at once. Like he was standing in the doorway of a warm cabin as the snow raged behind him, wishing he could walk in but knowing he couldn’t.

His chest ached as he turned to her.

The sheet was wrapped around her and her golden skin gleamed. She was so beautiful.

Her gaze darkened. “What is it? You look upset.”

The words scratched his throat on the way out. “You’re right, Sofia. We can’t make this work.”

Her lips parted.

“I’ve been fooling myself,” he said. “I’ve wanted to be with you so badly that I told myself I could avoid fate. But I was wrong. I recognize that now. I went to Corrier’s yesterday. There’s no way for me to stop being a warlock.  This has to be the last time we’re together.”

Her shoulders sagged and a shining tear rolled down her cheek. “I know. There’s no hope for us. For me.”

For her? Of course there was. Did she think she would die in this battle?
The hell she would.
He’d protect her with everything he had. “Of course there’s hope. I’ll help you with your battle. You’ll win this.”

She nodded. The pain in her eyes made his heart feel like it was tearing itself out of his chest. He had to get out of here. This was too hard. 

He squeezed her shoulders. “I’ll meet you in Bruxa’s Eye. I—I need to go now.” He spun on his heel and strode into the hall, then down the stairs and all the way into his aether room.

When he reached the cool, dark room, he bent over and propped his hands on his knees, heaving. His whole body was rejecting the idea of pushing Sofia away. Gods, he felt ill.

But it had to be done. This had been wrong. He was a warlock. Love and life weren’t in his future. He was destruction and he always had been. Great power at great cost, and he was paying it. 

But Sofia shouldn’t have to.

Malcolm sucked in a hard breath and straightened. He had to help her. To at least make up for part of this. Sofia would go meet her council in Bruxa’s Eye. He’d follow, but first, he needed to fuel up on as much power as his soul and body could hold. A battle was coming.

He turned to the center of the room, taking in the space that was the epicenter of his power. This room’s worth was immeasurable. Its enchantments made it strong enough to contain the portal to the aether that gave him unlimited access to power. He could fill up with almost as much raw magical energy as a
god. 

But without this room to contain the aether, he’d lose control. It’d go wild, an impossible flame that would devour everything in a forty foot radius. More, even.

This type of room was everything to a warlock.

And he hated it.

Didn’t bloody well matter though, did it? He’d thrown away the one person worth anything, so now the least he could do was see to it that he protected her.

He focused on the air around him, and more importantly, on the aether. He reached out toward it, focused it on the center of the room and multiplied the aether he felt in the air around him, using it to tear a hole in space until he accessed the core of the aether. Like the darkness of outer space, but when accessed by a warlock, compressed into the brilliant white light of magical energy. He had to squint against it.

His skin prickled and his mind and muscles strained to contain it. Even with the room’s protections, it took strength to keep it from bursting outward.  He extended his hands, drawing energy from the aether, filling himself up with it until his muscles vibrated and his skin tingled. The power of the aether burned into him like the heat of the sun, and he embraced the flames because the pain that touched him now replaced that in his heart.

When he felt full to bursting, he cut it off, closing the aether until the room was dark.

He panted, his chest heaving. He could blow up a city right now, he had so much magical energy vibrating within him.

After his breath calmed, he checked his watch. More than an hour had passed. Sofia would be in her village, meeting with her council.

He aetherwalked there, sucking in the warm jungle air and realizing that the wild smell reminded him of Sofia. The screeching cacophony of tropical animals filled the air. 

It was two hours earlier here than it was in Scotland and the early morning sun was just starting to peek over the top of the canopy. The buildings were quiet and the street was dead. 

 He made his way down the quiet street toward the bar where they’d first met the council and slipped in the door. He kept to the shadows, finding a spot near the door to watch.

The same half dozen council members were seated in the dim room. Sofia, cloaked in her Crone form, stood at the front with Aleia, who he’d figured out was her informal second in command. Inara stood with them as well. 

Sofia glanced over at him, then quickly turned back to the burly Were who was giving his report on how many outsiders from different packs would join the fight.

It sounded dire. Though nearly all citizens were willing to stay and fight regardless of whether or not their ancestors had been cursed, the Were was reporting that less than a dozen Weres from outside the village were willing to fight to their potential death. 

Not surprising really. Weres were loyal only to their packs, so getting others to help them was unlikely.

“Thank you, Alistair,” Sofia said. She reached down to rest a hand on Kitty’s back, who stood on the stool next to her. She glanced at the small female vampire who’d spoken at the last meeting. “Cora?”

The vampire rose and bowed low. “I have had better luck, Honored One. We have two dozen vampires willing to come to our aid, as well as all who live in Bruxa’s Eye. Though they expect to be able to drink those they slay.”

“Fair.” Sofia nodded.

“They’ve agreed to arrive tonight to prepare for the High Witches’ arrival tomorrow.”

“Excellent.” Sofia turned her gaze to the group. “In addition to our own citizens, it seems that we have approximately forty outsiders willing to come to our aid and most will arrive in two days. That’s good. We may stand a chance. I don’t know what’s coming, but the High Witches will use dark magic and we need to be prepared for anything. Continue to seek out assistance from your kind and we will meet again this evening. We’ll devise a plan for the battle tomorrow.”

Everyone rose and bowed low, then began to leave. Malcolm slipped out the door before them. He couldn’t speak to Sofia, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be here to keep an eye on her and fight in the final battle.

The moment he stepped into the sticky jungle air, he knew something was wrong. The air vibrated with a dark, unnatural power. It was too quiet, the jungle animals silent. It made goose bumps rise on his skin and his hands tingle to unleash destructive magic.