by Cate Corvin
And instead of doing what my matriarch wouldn’t, and placing me with a competent teacher, they’d tossed me right back into her uncaring hands.
The Wardens, the Tribunal… they could all go to hell.
“It’s nothing. I overreacted.” I took a deep breath and looked up at Dominic, feeling strangely shy.
After the gift of the coven ring and the key, I hadn’t known what to say, and it felt like it’d been nearly impossible lately to talk to him anyways. Bloom seemed to have attached herself to him like a shadow.
His gaze rested on my face and I fought the urge to look away. Why was I having such a hard time facing him now?
“I thought you lived in Cimmerian.” I touched my pocket, where the key rested like a burning brand.
Dominic’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I keep a house here too, for those days when I need to breathe.”
It took all my willpower to not grit my teeth. I couldn’t imagine having free lodging in a covenstead and still buying a house in the local human town just because I felt like it. “And Gilt’s fine with that?”
His thumb ran over my cheek, brushed my eyelashes. “She has no say in what her staff does outside Cimmerian. And now that you have a key, you have a house here, too.”
I met his eyes again in shock. “You can’t mean that.”
“You know I wouldn’t have given you a key if I didn’t mean it, Lucrezia.”
“And the coven ring-” My lungs felt tight and shallow. More than ever I felt out of my depth, just a country bumpkin playing games with witches related to the Great Covens.
“Go to the address I gave you.” Dominic’s hand fell away, like he’d just realized we were standing where anyone could walk by and see us. “Take Crescent Lane, not Main Street. We’ll talk there.”
He left me alone in the alley to make my choice.
I bit my lip and leaned on the brick wall. I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt for him, like iron drawn irresistibly to a lodestone, but the last week had put me on guard. Coven names and titles hadn’t seemed so important in the cozy confines of Cimmerian, but Bloom’s arrival had put it all in perspective for me.
The only person who had something to lose in this was me.
I slipped the key out of my pocket and stared down at it, then slid from the alley.
He was going to talk, and I wanted to know once and for all what it was he was hiding from me. If he was planning on dropping me for a handfasting match from a greater covenstead than mine, I would keep a distance between us from now on, no matter how much it hurt.
Breaking away on my own terms was better than being blindsided later.
My stomach contorted into knots as I followed the saccharine street signs, passing Magnolia Street, Honey Street, and Sugar Avenue before I came across the smaller Crescent Lane, which wound into dense green undergrowth behind a row of narrow, two-story houses.
Privacy gates separated each house from the winding path, which wasn’t a lane at all so much as a wide walking path.
Most of the houses belonged to humans- the charms hung on the gates were clearly bought, without individualized markings belonging to a specific covenstead, and many of them had pressed large, glittering chunks of clear quartz into their landscaping. Salt dusted the pathways in front of gates.
Even without the number 72 emblazoned in dark metal letters on Dominic’s gate, I would’ve known it was his from the charms. Iron coffin nails were driven into the wood in an aesthetically pleasing, spirit-repelling pattern, and the crown of a red-berried rowan tree was visible above the tall fence.
Most humans wouldn’t be comfortable living cheek-to-cheek with a warlock, but him being a mirrorwalker probably sweetened the deal. If he were an elementalist, odds were the humans would’ve petitioned him to vacate by now.
I reached out and forced myself to open the privacy gate, which was unlocked. The yard of the white house was neat and well-kept, but bland, as though nobody really lived here.
The gate shut behind me and I took several steps into Dominic’s personal domain, nervous about facing him here, but also relieved to be away from humans and back on a witch’s proper territory.
The back door wasn’t peppered with charms, but had a simple paper with an elaborate sigil pasted over it. I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my throat, and unlocked the door with shaking hands.
I tried to tell myself I was being ridiculous; I’d already had sex with the man, and touched him every chance I got, but walking into his private territory somehow felt far more intimate and invasive.
I stepped into a small, tidy kitchen and pulled the door shut behind me. Only the faint ticking of an unseen clock broke the silence. The inside of the house didn’t match the bland exterior.
Like his office in Cimmerian, bookshelves lined the walls of the living room from floor to ceiling, and what wall wasn’t covered with shelves was painted a soft, deep black. Cognac-colored leather couches sat on a faded Oriental carpet. Animal bones, chunks of tourmaline, and glittering quartz points were interspersed among the books.
Expensive-looking abstract artwork hung on the walls, but there was only one photograph, sitting on the mantel of the brick fireplace next to a bell jar with a swirling will o’ the wisp trapped inside.
I drew closer, picking up the photo of the two boys.
Even as a young teen, Dominic’s face was stoic and leonine, but darker-skinned and softer at the edges. His build was lankier instead of brawny. There was a slackness to his limbs that I would’ve said was impossible for him.
It was hard to believe this boy had grown into someone so watchful and hard, his skin faded by his forays into Death.
The boy next to him was a few inches taller, forever immortalized running a hand through his short, sandy-brown hair. Unlike serious Dominic, he had a crooked grin, his brown eyes looking over the photographer’s shoulder at someone else.
“The other boy is Simon Wicke.” Dominic’s voice rolled through the room. “My cousin.”
I put the photo back on the mantel and turned around, instinctively crossing my arms and toying with a lock of loose hair. “It’s the only picture in here.”
I hadn’t even heard him come in. On the opposite wall was a staircase leading upstairs, a closet door set under it, and a large mirror covered in black silk and hung with a charm.
He strolled into the living room, his hands in his pockets. If he thought it made him look less stern and more approachable, he was wrong. “It was the only one I brought from home. I travel light.”
I glanced at the massive number of books. He could run his own library out of here. “Right.”
The silence that fell between us was painful, an invisible force that squeezed my heart like a lump of clay in its hands.
“What do you want from me?” I finally asked. He kept one of the couches between us, and I hung near the mantle. The will o’ the wisp whispered near my ear.
Dominic leaned on the back of the couch, his fingers digging into the leather in a way that made my own hands clench. I knew what it felt like to have them curled around my legs, dimpling my flesh like that. “I want you, Lucrezia.”
Frustration gnawed at me. “No, Dominic,” I snapped. “What do you really want? What are your intentions? You know I’m covenless now. I have no connections or family. So, you can see why it would disturb me to receive a Steelbood coven ring when you’ve got a Springbloom witch constantly hovering around you.”
His hazel eyes glittered. “I don’t care about your covenstead status or Bloom.”
I took a deep breath, mentally counting backwards from ten as the taste of ash tinged my mouth.
“Let me make this clear. I don’t want to be the girl who gets led on before she’s dumped aside for someone else. I might not be from a large coven, but I do understand some of the politics. If you’re obligated to only handfast to someone from your own class, I get that, but… I would rather not do this anymore.” My voice trailed off miserably and hot
tears prickled behind my eyes.
I was angry at myself for any tears at all. I’d known from the beginning that we were from very different social strata, and crying wouldn’t change that.
Worst of all was knowing if he was bound to a covenstead obligation, I’d just broken off any chances of seeing him again. Being so close to him, but never being able to touch him again or talk to him without remembering his sultry words when we were alone, would be like having my heart ripped out over and over again.
Because you didn’t want to make the effort. I wished I could rip Roman’s taunting voice out of my skull, but he had a point.
Deliberately stepping back would be my point to Dominic. I wasn’t going to be a piece in his games, especially if the end result was humiliation for me. I was so tired of being a pawn.
It would hurt, but it would hurt far less than just being his fun while I developed real feelings, only to have Ivy Bloom or another Great Coven witch take my place.
Firm hands gripped my waist, tilted my chin up. My heart shorted out as it always did when Dominic was near, every muscle in my body feeling more like a liquid.
“Ivy Bloom does not matter to me,” he said, his voice fierce. “She’s just another puppet, but possibly a useful one. I know you don’t have any reason to believe me, Lucrezia. I know warlocks have taken advantage of covenless witches in the past. But I promise you, I gave you my coven ring for a reason.”
I resisted the urge to lean into him. “When Steelblood finds out you ruined a potential match with a Bloom, what will they think?”
Even if Bloom didn’t mean anything to him, that didn’t mean the power of his coven wouldn’t step in and intervene.
“They have no say in what I do.” His smile was cold. “If I bring home a Darke, they’ll simply be glad to have me back at all and welcome you with open arms.”
I stared up at him. What sort of rift had happened in Steelblood that they would be begging him to come home? “Is that why you’re here? Because of a family falling-out?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he said shortly, and he looked away this time, his eyes flickering.
“This answer is part of my conditions for being understanding.” I touched his cheek, turning his face back to me. “I’m tired of being kept in the dark. Why are you really here?”
I was willing to accept that Ivy Bloom was just a means to an end for him. But what could he or his family have done to exile him here?
Dominic was silent long enough that my nerves were beginning to fray. “I can’t tell you that yet, Lucrezia.”
I wanted to turn away from him, but I couldn’t pull my hand from his warm skin, the carved ridges of his face in my palm.
“Then we’re at an impasse.”
He turned his head and pressed his lips to my wrist, the gesture so reminiscent of Locke I almost jerked away in surprise.
“I can’t impress upon you enough how delicate my goal is. If I could tell you everything now, I would.” He gripped my hand and kissed my palm. “When all is done, I’ll describe every last detail of my time here, if that’s you want. But for now, please tell me what I can do to earn your trust for a while longer.”
I couldn’t have pulled away now even if I wanted to. When Dominic Steele touched me, all rational thought left my head, leaving only a consuming hunger in its place.
Maybe he knew that was my weakness and was turning it against me. But when he pulled me closer and snaked his fingers along the nape of my neck to grip my hair, I found myself falling into that weakness with open arms.
I braced my free hand on his chest. I wasn’t giving in without something more concrete than the abstract promise of a coven ring. Rings could be taken back.
“I want Bloom to stop attending our training sessions,” I said, my voice growing thin as his lips found my neck. “That time is just for us.”
“Done,” he said, running his tongue over the spot where Locke had pierced me in my dream. A pleasant shiver ran down my spine.
“And I want more Counseling sessions.”
“Is that demand a boon for me, or you?” He nibbled my earlobe, teasing the buttons of my shirt open. I gripped his shoulders to hold myself up as my knees turned to water. “As often as you want, Lucrezia.”
“And I want you to take me into the deadside of Cimmerian with you.”
Dominic stopped with his hands halfway down the front of my shirt, lips pressed to my collarbone. “You can’t be serious,” he said, raising his head to look at me warily.
Now was the perfect time to extract the promise, especially now that I had the remains of someone whom Gilt had wanted quietly destroyed. From Death, I might be able to summon their spirit with it.
“I am absolutely, one-hundred-percent serious, Dominic.” I pressed my thumb to his lower lip and he kissed it, his eyes never moving from my face. “Time and place to be determined. If you agree to that, I swear I won’t ask your purpose here again until you’re able to tell me, and I’ll implicitly trust it’s for a good reason.”
“Have you ever crossed a mirror before?”
“There were no mirrorwalkers in Claremont, so no. If I can’t cross, then we’ll consider this deal null. I’m sure Shane would have no problem serving as our anchor.”
A calculating look stole over his face. “I accept your terms, Lucrezia.” Then he brushed a light kiss over my lips, much gentler than I’d ever felt from him.
I wondered if I’d asked for too little. He’d agreed much more quickly than I’d anticipated.
But it was easy to push that aside when he gripped my wrist and pulled my hand from his chest, eradicating the only barrier between us, and his lips were no longer gentle but severe.
Chapter 9
Lu
I knelt at the head of Dominic’s bed, my back to the room. The soft silk ropes that bound my wrists together were looped on an iron hook attached to an anchor in the ceiling, holding my arms suspended above my head.
Hands that were rough yet gentle ran over my naked legs, thumbs pressed into my inner thighs that left a tingling sensation behind. I couldn’t do much more than quiver.
Silk knots had been tied around my knees and looped around the headboard posts, keeping them apart.
I instinctively strained against the bonds as the hands slid higher, gliding over my hips and stomach, and curved around my breasts. My breath shortened, heart humming as Dominic brushed my hair aside and kissed the back of my neck. Every fine hair on my body rose in goosebumps.
A gasp escaped me, leaving me light-headed under his touch. Not for the first time since the knots had tightened, I thought of how completely and totally vulnerable I was to whatever he might want to do to me.
Dominic cupped my chin and pulled my head back to rest against his chest, and his fingers splayed over my neck, reminding me once more of my fragility.
He didn’t even need to squeeze. Just the press of his fingers against the pulse in my throat was enough to make the message clear: he was stronger, harder, in control. I was at his mercy.
He explored me with slow, deliberate touches, taking his time. His fingers caressed my shoulders, followed the lines of my taut back, ran over my extended arms.
My nipples hardened painfully, and heat bloomed in my lower abdomen, but he silently refused to give me what I craved.
The muscles of my arms tightened but I went nowhere. I drew in a sharp breath when he moved behind me, the hot, satiny hardness of his cock pressed against the cleft of my ass.
I was already wet and squirming, breathless moans pulled from me each time he teased me with his fingers. He ran them over my thighs, coming close enough to make me think he was going to finally ease the needy ache between my legs, but drew them away to touch my stomach or hips each time.
My arms shook with the strain of pulling against my bonds, trying my hardest to push myself against him.
Dominic finally gripped my hip, forcing me back up on my knees. I rose until my bound wrists and the iron hoo
k were level with my face, back arched against him, knees held apart.
I wasn’t expecting him to pull away, leaving me cold and helpless for a moment, before he was on his back under me. He held my hips, pulling me down on his mouth.
He licked my clit with long, slow strokes and my gasp became a drawn-out moan when he slid a finger in me.
My thighs were quivering with strain when I grew comfortable enough to undulate against him, and he curled his finger inside, brushing a sensitive spot that made my entire body tighten like a bow.
He feasted on me until I was shaking so hard the only thing holding me up was the hook and the silk ropes. I was only seconds away from dissolving, my entire body tensed with pleasure, when he finally slid out from under me and licked his way from my hip to my breasts.
Dominic’s tongue flicked against the stiffened peak and I gasped. He didn’t stop until I was straining against the ropes, wanting to feel him inside me.
My hair fell over my shoulder and warm lips pressed to the back of my neck as he moved against me.
His thick head slipped through my wetness and he squeezed my waist, sinking me onto his cock with a slow and irresistible stroke. My pussy squeezed him, tensing as I got used to the sensation of his thickness stretching me apart, fingers clenched around the iron hook overhead.
Desire surged through every cell in my body until it felt like my nerve endings were lit up with incandescent need.
He kept his arm wrapped around my waist, holding me trapped with him inside me, but his other hand dragged along my leg. Dominic splayed his fingers, feeling himself slide into me, the pad of one fingertip finding my hypersensitive clit and swirling a circle around it.
My breath hissed in through clenched teeth and I raised myself up again before slamming down, drawing a masculine groan from him.
Just the feeling of his sounds reverberating through my body made me want him more. I thrust against him, growing wetter with each stroke, even though my wrists ached from the pressure I was putting on them.
