Wicked Hexes

by Hutchins, Amelia

  “That takes time. Continue giving it to her until she fights you to mate with your wolf. You can fuck her when I am finished saving her life,” Mary announced with a pointed look at the tenting of my sweatpants. Her ancient eyes locked with mine as her fingers pushed through Laura’s wet curls. “She needs it, and when I am finished, she’ll be able to do it herself. She may not even want you to touch her, what with your ripping that knot free of this tight flesh. You did a number on her, wolf,” she pointed out, noting the bruises that cover Laura’s legs and cunt still a week later. “I’m guessing being away from her for the couple days only pissed your wolf off more, yes?”

  “She attacked me, and my wolf sought to take her down in the way they do. It took every ounce of strength I had to hold him back. He would have used me to rape her, to knot her without mercy to show her who the true alpha is.”

  “I’m guessing he also didn’t like you removing that knot then, hmm?” she clucked her tongue using her fingers to draw patterns across Laura’s navel.

  “Knots aren’t meant to come out until we finish mating. You said it had to be done to weaken her and start the process of her change,” I snapped crossly. I’d wanted to leave it in the haven of her body offered. I’d wanted to fuck her until I was dripping from her cunt. The urge to cover every inch of her in my scent had been overwhelming, and instead of doing as instinct demanded, she started to bleed out right before my eyes.

  “Even bled out, the curse within her is too strong,” she exhaled. “Her wolf is so fucking buried within her; you may need to add more venom to your bite. A female lycan hates nothing more than to be pinned and claimed. Everything inside of her demands that her mate is strong enough to take her and make her want it. You are her alpha, so fuck her like it,” she demanded, lifting her hand from Laura’s flesh to sniff it. “Her pleasure is now her own again. Next, we will work on her soul. It’s in tatters, probably from being forced to kill your sorry hide repeatedly. Show her some kindness, Braydon. She’s known very little of it in her lifetime. You can see it by the way the darkness waits for her to reach for it. If I were you, I’d release that other little witch you are holding, and soon. Hope is a liability. Laura won’t leave you; she’s resigned to her death. Sadly, and rather unfortunate for you, she’s ready to die. Her soul is tired, and it is in tatters. I will come again to work on her more. If she doesn’t accept you, and her inner wolf doesn’t awaken, we may lose her. Wake the bitch up; use your scent as even now she moves toward it.”

  “And if she loves me before you’ve finished helping her change speed up?” I asked softly.

  “I said show her kindness,” she snapped. “I didn’t say make the wee thing fall for you. Besides, she may need a week alone to flick her pretty bean. I know if I had been cursed to just one male sexually, I’d be visiting every male from this side of the Mississippi to the shores of England and riding them twice. You must bite her again in the same places. This time, the poison need not spread within her as much. You must knot her flesh again, but Braydon, this time, leave it buried within her and let her know the pleasure that it can give,” she explained, exhaling. “You must awaken her wolf if we are to win this fight. She is in there, somewhere. Find her; awaken the beast that slumbers inside your woman. There is no magic preventing her from becoming what she was born to be. You may breed her now if you wish. She should be in her first heat anytime now that the start of her lycan life has begun; without the magic to fight it, it is inevitable.”

  “You think she will want me to knot her? I fucking tore her apart to get it out as her womb clenched against me, fighting me. Her body sought to hold me within it, to take what it craved from me. I know full-bred wolves who have murdered their mates to keep a knot seated against their wombs. It is pure instinct, and they fight the male to keep it there. She told me to take it. That isn’t something a female wolf would do, ever.”

  Her head tilted in thought before she shook it. “She should have fought you to keep it, and that’s a problem. I needed her weakened for the herbs to work, but even weakened, she is strong. We need her hormones to spike, and her instincts to rise. If she doesn’t transform, you will lose her forever. See that she craves your proud knot, wolf. You may also want to clean that mess up and add some of your scent to hers, so she’s more willing to use you when she wakes. Then you can knot her and show her what it is to be truly knotted by a Lycan Alpha King. Stop being the weak Viking who pined for the pretty little witch’s cunt and be the alpha you were raised to become. Bjorn selected you to hunt her down because he chose you to take his throne, act like it. Make it impossible for her not to want you, say your goodbyes. If she fights against the change, it only makes the chance of death more certain. I get that you don’t enjoy being her villain, but a pissed-off wolf is better than a dead one.”

  I watched the old crone leave the room with the silver glow of Laura’s magic filling her. My heavy stare dropped back to Laura’s apex, the bane of my existence that drove me insane. I slipped onto the bed, scenting her need and groaned at her tiny hand that pushed through the slickness of her sex that I wanted to bury my face within and watch her come on it. My hand captured hers before it could continue, noting the red marks that glowered over her tiny pubic bone. My littlest witch would have been a runt had she been born into a wolf pack, and yet she was fucking fierce. Slowly, I lowered my mouth, kissing over the sore flesh from the runes that burned into the very fiber of her being.

  She wanted me to knot this tiny witch after she’d told me to rip it out of her. The pain in Laura’s scream as I ripped it free had torn me apart worse than it had her. Every instinct within me wanted to remain there, and yet we were forcing her change, something that was dangerous. I’d be fucking lucky if she ever willingly let me touch her. Not that she’d get the choice, because I wasn’t going to fucking lose her again. I’d had to curse myself to this swamp to keep from tracking this pretty little she-demon down and claiming her. Every instinct within me had demanded I do so, and fuck if it hadn’t made the wolf hunt faster and harder when I let him out and gave him free rein to find her. I’d found myself outside her little academy more than once, and had barely contained the need to take her.

  I’d watched her praying to the stars, hearing her whispered thoughts through the mountains. She prayed I didn’t find her, begging whoever listened to spare me death. She’d never asked them to help her, only me. Laura was a fucking hybrid witch, one of raw, unimaginable power, and she begged for my life, not hers. She had no idea of what she was or who her father had been. I kept those secrets from her, knowing that they would do us no good. I’d wanted to protect her from the pain that came from the truth.

  My mouth lowered, hovering over the heat of her core silently. I ran my tongue through the deliciousness of her cunt, sucking against the soft, delicate flesh that I’d battered and bruised. I’d been a fucking dick to her since the moment I’d captured her, certain that if she hated me enough, we’d have more time. There was also the problem of me changing what she was, and she may never forgive that. She’d have to sacrifice something of herself to escape the curse, and I doubted it would be the one thing she’s known. Magic was a crutch, something that had always driven her, protected her, and I’d had to strip it from her to save her. No, she would never choose lycan over magic.

  She moaned, and my cock strained to reach her. The taste of her made both beasts within me rise and take notice. Pushing her legs apart, I cleaned the scent of Mary from her, wanting no one else upon her flesh. I’d almost snapped Moira’s neck when her scent was on my woman. Laura was mine; the universe created her for me.

  I’d known it since the first moment I caught her scent on the shores of England, watching her from a distance. She’d come to end me, but couldn’t. The moment she looked into my eyes, our souls locked together. It was like finding home; knowing that she was created for me had changed everything. This tiny little witch who had come to
kill me had me all but pining at her feet. I, a fucking berserker who could take down hordes of enemies, was brought to my knees by the most beautiful maiden this world had ever created. The best part about that was it had created her for me alone.

  My head lifted at her sultry moan. My body moved to curl against hers, tracing my thumb over the tip of my cock to take the pre-come from it. I lifted it, pushing it against her full lips so she can taste it when the spell abated, and she woke from her slumber.

  Gazing down, my fingers found her perky nipple and rolled it between my fingers. I’d called them tiny, unimpressive. I’d known she was listening, and I wanted her to think I didn’t crave her. I’d called her tiny, too tiny, but then she was. She was my little witch, a spitfire that could bring a berserker to his fucking knees with the mere heat burning in her pretty emerald eyes. I’d challenged her on those shores and fallen in love the moment that sweet little smirk crossed her mouth at the audacity of my boldness. I’d wanted them wrapped around my cock, and worse, for the first time in my life, I’d wanted to taste a kiss. Not just any kiss, though, hers. I’d wanted to watch her belly swell with my child in it, and now she could have it if she chose to.

  “I have loved you for a thousand years, and I will love you for a thousand more. If you hate me when this is through, then I will watch you walk away from me, sweetest heart,” I growled hoarsely, my tone thick with emotion I’d kept hidden from her. “I pray to Odin that you love me enough to stay with me, little wolf. Stay with me, my heart. You’re almost free, my love.”

  Chapter 13

  Laura

  Something growled beside me in bed, waking me from a dead sleep. I turned over, gazing at Braydon, who growled again. My hand touched his chest, quieting his night terrors. His much larger one grabbed it, surprising me at the strength in which he held me to him. My eyes slid down his body, landing on his enlarged manhood. He was hugely endowed, rather gifted with it by Thor, according to him. I leaned over, laying my head against his chest to listen to his heart.

  It was different than I remembered. Slowly, his heart beat through the twin chambers of his chest. He released my hand and groaned, lost in a nightmare. I almost snorted, hoping it was a painful one. Sliding my hand over his stomach, my gaze flickered to his, slowly continuing down to the thin trail of hair that started at his naval. Pushing my fingers through the blonde hair against the muscles in his abdomen, heat flashed through me. I exhaled a shaky breath as my hand skimmed over the silky skin of his cock.

  A smarter woman would have stopped after knowing what it could do to her. I wasn’t that woman. My hand wrapped around it, watching as my fingers failed to encase it. Licking my lips, I paused, tasting him on them. I moaned while another wave of heat rushed through my body. I released him, pulling back my hand, but Braydon captured it in a larger one and pushed it back to his cock. My eyes swung to his, finding liquid blue flames burning with need as they watched me.

  “There was a bug on it?” I babbled.

  “No, there wasn’t,” he replied huskily, sleep making his voice rough. “A saucy little witch was molesting me in my sleep.”

  “Was there?” I said, yanking my hand away from him. “Stupid witch is she,” I muttered, moving away from him only to be caught. I yelped as he pushed me back onto the bed and rested his frame over mine.

  “Not stupid, she’s a curious little thing,” he whispered.

  His lips brushed against my collarbone, and I hissed, watching him as he slowly explored my body. Braydon’s kiss left scorch marks in its wake until he found the curve of my breast, grabbing it with one hand as his mouth claimed the pink flesh of the nipple between his teeth, growling huskily as his eyes lifted to hold mine.

  “What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly, pushing him away. My hands covered my breasts, and I hissed. Dropping my arms to my lap, I stared dumbfounded at my swollen nipples. My hand lifted, pinching one and then the other. “I felt that. I felt that!” I screamed, pushing my hand down my stomach to touch my slit, moaning as I did. “Braydon, I felt that too!” I announced, pushing my fingers into my sex as his heated gaze watched. “Ung!” I whimpered, withdrawing them. “Something is wrong,” I groaned. “I haven’t been able to feel my fingers touching myself since before I met you. Something is happening.”

  “Try again,” he said, watching me through a heavy-lidded stare.

  My fingers danced over my flesh while I spread my legs, leaning back to see myself better. I moaned as my legs started to close against the pressure my touch created. He watched my face before his gaze slid to where my hand was fanning my flesh. I groaned when his lips curved into a roguish smirk.

  “This isn’t good. It means someone is messing with the curse. My money is on you, mutt.”

  “And how would I do that?” he asked hesitantly, and yet I’d heard the catch in his tone.

  “I don’t know, but you can’t break it, Braydon. I am…was powerful, and I couldn’t unravel it. You do not understand how powerful and evil my mother was. Any time the curse is messed with, the darkness that followed her seeks me out. I am one of a handful of witches who can house it. It’s already here because I whispered my willingness to use it against you, don’t give it a reason to control me, wolf.”

  “You think you are the only one with something to lose?” he asked, skimming his fingers over my thigh.

  “Don’t touch me,” I snapped, slapping his hand away. “Leave,” I growled, crossing my arms over my chest, ignoring the razor-sharp nipples that argued my request.

  “No,” he snorted, laying back, which caused his cock to rise into the air.

  My gaze dropped, my tongue slid over my dry lips, and I frowned as I bit into my full bottom lip. My mouth watered like that of a harpy finding a fisherman hanging over the edge of a ship too close to the water.

  “Fine, don’t touch,” I warned, laying back to run my hands over my breasts. I turned, staring at him through eyes that watched him warily. It had been so long since I could even feel my touch that I wasn’t sure how this worked anymore. My legs dropped open, and I leaned up on my arms, watching his brow hike as if he found my predicament curious.

  “Need help, little witch?”

  “No,” I muttered as I dropped to the bed and turned away from him. “It’s just been a while.”

  “Need help yet?” he asked after a few moments had passed while I stroked my flesh as he watched me.

  “No,” I growled, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. “You could turn away,” I offered.

  He chuckled, turning me over toward his hard body. His hand grabbed mine, and I jerked it back, but he refused to release it. I studied him carefully, watching him as he moved my hand between my legs and dropped his gaze to where he used my fingers to touch me.

  “This is crazy,” I muttered, noting that he was using my hand to stroke my clit. My body buzzed with need like I was seconds away from jumping him. “Something isn’t right,” I hissed, pulling my hand away and rolling from the bed. “I feel like a bitch in heat!”

  His eyes widened at my words, and yet he just sat back, stroking his cock in a slow, leisurely movement. My eyes locked onto it as I licked my lips again; groaning and forcing them away, I began to pace. What the hell was wrong with me? I was never the aggressor between us. He always seduced me with slow kisses and sinful looks that made my knees grow weak. Right now? Right now, Braydon looked like a bar of chocolate, and I felt like I had the worst case of PMS in the history of women. My body was hypersensitive, and arousal coated my thighs as if it was leaking out of me. I turned to make a pass at the foot of the bed as a wave of heat rushed through me. I moaned, bending at the waist to catch my breath.

  I turned, staring at where his hand continued silently stroking his magnificent cock. The memory of it being ripped out of me pissed me off, and I bared my teeth at him.

  “What. The. A
ctual. Fuck. Is. Happening?” I growled. “I’m growling!”

  “So you are,” he mused huskily. “It’s fucking hot,” he continued, watching me resume my pacing in front of him.

  I scented the pearl of come as it left the tip of his cock. His thumb brushed it over the large tip, and a mewling noise left my lungs. Whatever the hell was happening to me, it wasn’t right. Stepping closer to him, drawn by his scent, I paused, turning to continue pacing.

  “Why am I acting like a wolf’s mate? I mean, I get that you’re a wolf, but I’m not. Human genetics with a little something added here and there, but no wolf. I know because, had I been born of your breed, my mother would have drowned me at birth and been done with me. My father wasn’t a wolf, either.” I turned, staring at him. “But you fucking bit me, didn’t you?” I asked, with accusation lingering in my tone. “And the harvest moon of Samhain is rising. What day is it?” I asked carefully.

  “You have two weeks before it becomes a full moon, little witch.”

  His eyes began to glow, and my head tilted; before I could stop myself, I was on the bed, slowly crawling to him. I shook my head hard, kneeling on the bed. My hand touched my sex, and a groan left my lungs loud and long. I wasn’t just wet; I was soaked, and it wasn’t stopping. My body was mimicking a wolf in heat, meaning it should drive the wolf nuts as he watched me with an amused expression.

  “Braydon,” I whispered huskily. “Tell me you didn’t do this to me. Tell me you didn’t make me into something I didn’t ask to be.” He watched me closely, working another bead of come over his cock. “You bastard, did you do this?” I growled through clenched teeth, fighting a wave of heat as moisture slipped free of my body. “How are you not mounting me?”