Wolf Mate (6 page)

Emotional witches drew power
from emotions, and the stronger and more extreme the emotion, the
more power it gave the witch.

Dax had desired her, desired
her with an all consuming, burning passion. She had felt it, and had
reveled in it.

Her voice rose and she began
to shiver as her spell took hold. She felt the magick pulsing from
every pore, prickling against her skin as her intention manifested
before her eyes.

The beam of moonlight
shimmered as a shadowy shape began to form in front of her. She
gasped, but continued chanting the summoning and binding spell.

As her magick leaked from her
and flew towards the tall, shadowy figure, the shape became more
defined and distinct. She saw his broad shoulders and strong hands,
his dark hair and sharp features, his long legs, his loosened tie and
tailored suit. Intense, gray eyes stared back at her as the ghostly
figure of Dax Ferro stepped out of the moonlight.

Melynda gulped and took a
small step back.

It had worked.

He was here. Right here in
her bedroom.

Well, it was not his person,
but close enough. It was his overriding emotion towards her,
manifested in person.

Melynda blinked hard, trying
not to panic. She was about to find out what he really felt towards
her. If he harbored murderous intentions towards her, the ghostly
Dax Ferro in her bedroom would be strangling her in a moment. She
flexed her fingers, checking if she had enough magick left in her to
banish him if he really did try to murder her.

Yup. She could banish him,
but she would have to be fast. Emotions could kill. Literally.

Dax blinked and with each
blink and each breath, his form became sharper and clearer,
solidifying into a tangible, hulking form.

Melynda stared at the angles
on Dax's handsome, chiseled face, at his tall, broad body as he
started to walk towards her. She felt a sudden surge of lust and
pride. Her magick must be really powerful. She had succeeded in
summoning his emotion and manifesting it so clearly before her. She
had expected to summon just a faint image, a shadow or a mere ghost
of his emotion on her first try. But here he was, solid, hard and
real.

This was Dax's emotion, but it
was also Dax. His lips curled into a lopsided smile when his eyes
found her in the shadows.

“
Melynda,” he
whispered. His voice was soft and low, like he was whispering to her
in a dream.

But this wasn't a dream.

This was magick.

“
Dax.” Melynda
forced her voice to work.

He was moving closer to her,
his eyes glowing silver in the darkness of her room.

She almost couldn't breathe,
being so close to the dark, brooding form of Dax. So close she could
reach out and press her hand against his chest, and feel those toned
muscles under her fingers.

He was staring at her with an
intensity that made her shiver. He was a true predator, silent,
lethal, determined.

Slowly, he raised a hand
towards her throat.

Melynda held his gaze
unflinchingly. She had to know.

“
Do you...hate me, Dax?”
she whispered. “Despise me for what I am?”
A
parasitic Emotional witch, the worst and weakest of the witches.

Dax growled long and low. It
was the sound of the wolf, not the man. She could feel the wolf,
prowling so close to the surface, pacing, growling like a caged
animal.

She had never seen Dax in his
wolf form, but she had no doubt that his wolf would be just as
impressive, just as handsome as the man.

Would she get to see his wolf
tonight? Did she dare use her magick to trigger a shift?

No, Dax would never forgive
her. Forcing him to reveal his wolf against his will was a breach of
trust, an act of violence, on every level. It was dark magick, and
many Emotional witches took their first step down the path of
darkness because they were unable to resist the temptation.

It was so tempting, so easy
for Emotional witches to access and manipulate someone else's
emotions. It was satisfying, was it not, to use your enemies' fear
against them, and drive them out of their minds? You could crush
their fragile minds in your palm like a boiled egg, leaving them
screaming and blubbering like idiots. It really would have been more
merciful to kill them, but where was the fun in that? Melynda had
secretly logged onto some chat forums for Emotional witches under a
fake account. Emotional witches were funny and feisty, and she had
laughed as she chatted with them. But they had a vicious, vindictive
side. As she read through the various conversation threads, she
realized how easy it was to get sucked into their world of vengeance,
vengeance without blood, the witches had crowed.

The Emotional witches' brand
of violence and vengeance might be bloodless, but it was far more
harrowing and devastating.

Shattering someone's heart and
mind was far worse than breaking his limbs and his bones.

Was this the type of witch she
was?

Is this how Dax saw her, as a
dark, destructive witch?

His hand was on her throat,
his strong fingers closing around her neck. Melynda stared straight
into his eyes, tensed but strangely unafraid.

“
Hate you? Despise
you?” He let out a mirthless laugh. “I desire you,
Melynda. I want you so bad I'm going out of my goddamn mind. Every
time I see you, I just want to touch you. I need you, Melynda. I
want you...to be mine.”

She gasped when he grabbed her
wrists and pinned her wrists to the wall on either side of her head.
His body felt solid, hard, real. So did his mouth, which was upon
hers in a heartbeat. His tongue thrust into her mouth and she moaned
as her body writhed against his. Whatever emotion Dax felt towards
her, it was fierce and demanding.

She felt his urgency and
frustration, as his mouth kissed hungrily down her neck and chest.
When he took her mouth again, she arched her back to press her
breasts against the broad, hard wall of his chest. She squirmed
deliciously against him, but she wanted more. She wanted to feel her
skin on his. She wanted them bare and naked together as their bodies
joined as one. She groaned as she felt his pulsating heat and his
huge erection stabbing into her belly.

She trailed her hand slowly
down his chest to his hip. Running her fingers across the bulge in
his pants, she was about to tug his zipper down and take his
throbbing cock into her palm when he suddenly swung her up in his
arms.

Turning to her bed, he threw
her onto her back and prowled towards her. He held himself up above
her, and gazed down at her for a long time.

“
I have dreamed of you
like this. Naked and spread beneath me,” he grated.

He took a nipple between his
knuckles and tugged gently. Rolling her aching nipples between his
fingers, he bent down and kissed her hard on the mouth.

His long fingers moved down
her body, tracing her curves and drawing languid circles around her
breasts and on her tummy. “What are you doing, Dax?” she
panted.

“
Making you beg.”

He kissed and licked between
her heavy breasts. “Beg me to make you come, Melynda,”
he murmured. “I have to know how much you want this. How much
you want...me.”

She felt his lips curve into a
smile against her navel when she whimpered.

“
Dax...stop,” she
whispered as his lips trailed down her thigh.

She arched off the bed when he
flicked her throbbing clit with his tongue. “Say it like you
mean it.” He slipped a finger inside her.

She fisted the sheets and
gasped as he began to slide two fingers in and out of her body. His
tongue spread the moisture around her swollen bud and circled it
slowly, deliciously.

“
Dax! Please...”

He curled his fingers inside
her and stroked.

“
No, d-don't stop, don't
stop, please don't stop!” She could hardly hear her own
incoherent pants as the pleasure crested unstoppably towards its
climax.

Her eyes were squeezed tightly
shut, and she felt him withdraw his fingers suddenly. She opened her
eyes and saw him unzip his fly and release his erection. God, he was
huge! She blinked hard and tensed as he spread her legs wider apart
and pushed the head of his cock at her opening.

“
Dax!” she panted.
“You feel...”

She felt his cock inching into
her body, stretching her and filling her. She became even wetter,
and she felt her juices trickling out of her. It made his
penetration painless, and so, so good.

“
You feel so good, so
damn good, Dax,” she breathed, letting her head fall back as he
buried himself to the hilt inside her.

He began to thrust into her,
fucking her hard and fast. She came with a keening cry, and still he
kept fucking her. He wasn't done with her, and it felt like he never
would be.

He wanted her, so badly. She
could feel his feral hunger and lust, his need to claim her. He
wanted to be inside her forever.

He surged into her and she
came again, and again.

She lost count of the number
of orgasms she had. She lost track of time, and she lost herself—in
him.

Everything was just about his
want and her surrender.

Melynda's head fell back on
the pillow, and she forced her eyes open. Her hair was plastered to
her face, and her body was drenched in sweat.

She was in her bed, panting,
naked and alone.

Dax...was gone.

She pushed herself up shakily,
and stared between her legs. She was still wet, and she saw her
juices flowing down the inside of her thighs. Shivering, she
squeezed her legs together and pulled the covers up to her chin.

Dax wanted her, with a feral,
unrelenting hunger.

She had seen him, held him,
and felt him deep inside her. His emotion was raw and real.

Pulling her knees up under her
chin, she rocked to and fro on her bed. There was no doubt now. She
really was an Emotional witch. And a powerful, potent one at that.

She had done her research.
Only very few and very powerful Emotional witches could bind a
person's emotion into a solid, tangible form and manifest it clearly.
Sometimes the emotion took the form of an animal or an object. A
feeling of calm could manifest as a clear pool of water, and angry,
raging emotions could appear as lashing flames. She had manifested
Dax's desire for her as Dax's person himself. His hunger for her
filled his conscious and subconscious thoughts. It consumed him,
taunted him, tortured him. He wanted her, but it was clear he didn't
want to be naked with her.

He still refused to bare
himself to her. There was something he was shielding from her, a
part of himself he wanted clothed and hidden.

Melynda turned towards the
window, staring at the shaft of moonlight cutting into her room.

The moon would be full
tomorrow night, and magick was always at its most powerful during the
full moon.

She sighed, remembering that
her grandmother would be holding a full moon ceremony tomorrow night
at their house. She had invited witches from other covens to join
them.

Melynda grabbed the huge
t-shirt at the foot of her bed and tugged it down over her head. She
went to stand by the window, staring up at the moon. It seemed to be
sailing away from her, further and further into the sea of clouds.

Leaning her head against the
window frame, she sighed into the night, “Why, Dax? Why...are
you keeping yourself from me? Is it because of what I am?”

She leaned into the cold wind,
feeling the chill crawl all over her skin.

“
I...I'm sorry, Dax,”
she whispered. “I would never steal and manipulate your
emotions. But I just had to know...”

But I will never know you,
will I, Dax?

You will never bare your
body, your heart and soul to me.

With a wince, Melynda turned
away. The knowledge was like a blade through her heart, a blade that
was much colder than the night wind blowing and swirling into her
room.

Dax awoke with a massive hard
on.

The sheets were tangled around
his feet. He flung his arm out, reaching for...
her
.

Melynda.

His hand landed on the pile of
pillows and he turned his head sharply. He was alone in his bed.
There was no warm, curvy body beside him. Dax shook his head. He
had felt her. He had been inside her, and he had made her come.
Repeatedly.

It had been real. Hadn't it?

Shit.

Dax tumbled out of bed and
staggered to the bathroom. Turning on the tap at full blast, he
splashed icy water on his face and stared at his foggy reflection in
the mirror. He was a mess. He couldn't even tell what was real any
more.