The Spell's Price (Mates & Magic)
Page 7
I’m really not obligated to hang out with him at all, but I have the urge to be nice.
He probably just wants a roll in the hay anyhow. Normally, I wouldn’t be against it because we did do pretty well in bed. Now, of course…
Hey, Hope. Just hoping we can catch up soon? Let me know. :) -Alex
I bite my lip and frown at the text. Actually, this might be an opportunity to do a little test run on my fucked up face. There might-might be the slightest chance that it’s not as bad as I think it is. Stuff like this always seems worse for the person it’s happening to. And then you get an objective observer and find out it’s not that bad!
That’s a thing...right?
It’s worth a shot anyway. Alex is sort of a good test case. He knows what I looked like before, but if the mere sight of me horrifies him or something, well, I don’t really care that much. I mean, I’m sure it will be a bit painful but outside of being a reliable booty call, Alex and I really aren’t close anymore.
He’s texted very late, but that’s not unusual for Alex. He works from home and he has little sense of normal working hours. That may have been the most interesting thing about him other than being a panther shifter.
Okay sure, I text back to Alex. Can you do coffee tomorrow?
Alex texts back an enthusiastic emoji, and we make our plans. He assumes we’re going to Cafe Amour, and I almost choke. That can’t happen. I tell him I don’t like to hang out at work when I’m not working, and we make plans to meet across town. Hopefully, where nobody else I know will see me.
After all that, I flop down on my bed and watch the most mindless cat videos I can find on YouTube until I fall asleep.
I feel terrible.
Hope
I don’t remember my dreams in detail that night, but when I wake up, I know they were dark. I feel all wrong, almost as if there’s some darkness coming. It’s probably just anxiety. It’s been two days since I cast the spell, but I still reach up and touch my face, hoping some miracle has happened and my face is back to normal. No such luck.
I’m not going to work today. I don’t think I can possibly go back until I at least come up with an explanation for what happened to my face that people will believe. If it was just one or two people, I might explain about a magic spell gone wrong. Maybe. But Cafe Amour has a couple dozen employees who, as far as I know, know nothing about magic. And that’s not to include the large number of regular customers who also know me.
But that’s a tomorrow problem. Right now, I have only today to think about.
I call work again to call out. Bobbi picks up this time and is very understanding since I still have a strong work record. He does sound really concerned though, and it makes me feel guilty for lying. I hope I can go back to work soon. I may just have to tell them that I got in a terrible accident and this is how I healed. No real explanation. If I had the money, I would just disappear and go somewhere else where nobody knows me. But I couldn’t do that to my family.
I’m in the shower when it occurs to me that I’ll have to explain this to my family somehow. My mom is going to flip her lid. At least I can tell my family the truth though, as horribly embarrassing as that will be. I wonder if I can get away with just showing up as a panther the next time we go for a run? At least that way, I can delay the inevitable. Although...we usually go out for drinks afterward. I can’t show up as a panther for that.
It probably looks awfully dramatic, but when I go to meet Alex that afternoon, I take a while to get ready. I give some concealing make-up a try. It helps a tiny bit, but it’s not really hiding the scars. It’s just making them look a little better. I squint into the mirror, still horrified at what I see. I wonder if there’s even the slightest chance it’s not as bad as I think it is?
I get dressed and throw on a scarf that wraps halfway around my face, but at least it’s a pretty scarf. I put on sunglasses too and a hat. I look sort of like the Invisible Man, but it will have to do for now. I just can’t bear for anyone to see me before I’m ready.
During the drive on the way to meet Alex, I’m shaking all over, I’m so nervous. Alex was never a bad guy. Not from what I remember. We just didn’t have a lot in common. I feel like if he thinks I’m just too awful to look at, I’m definitely not going to fair any better with my wizards.
At the coffee place I chose for us, I feel stuck inside the car. It’s as if I’m glued to my seat, my hands clinging to the steering wheel. I have a horrible sense of dread, but I can’t stand Alex up on top of everything else. This is just getting terribly rude.
I find Alex waiting at a table with an iced coffee. He frowns and looks sort of confused when he sees me, and no wonder. I look like the worst spy in the world with my scarf wrapped around my face on an early summer day. He regains his composure quickly. Anyway, for all he knows, this is just a weird fashion thing with me. I always was just a little bit kooky like that. Once, for an entire year, I wore nothing but overalls.
“Good to see you, Hope,” Alex says. He’s more handsome than I remember, but that doesn’t really matter to me. He’s still too boring for me to fall in love with. He goes in to kiss my cheek, but I duck my head so he ends up kissing my hat. He clears his throat. I must seem like a crazy person. But I just sit down like nothing’s wrong. “Thanks for meeting me.”
“Sure!” I say, attempting to sound normal and cheerful. I’m practically speaking through my scarf. “I’m glad we’re getting a chance to catch up.”
I feel ridiculous. Who does this? But I am determined to ignore the elephant in the room that is my super spy disguise until I’m ready to show Alex my face.
The server comes by, and I order a pastry and a coffee. I need to work up to this. “So, how have you been?” I ask Alex.
Alex starts talking about his latest coding jobs as a freelance developer. I don’t even think his job is boring. I’m sure programming can be interesting. It’s just the way he talks about anything that makes it boring. He’s always been that way. I find my mind immediately wandering as he talks, but I nod and ask a question once in a while to try to seem like I’m interested, which seems to satisfy him well enough. Alex asks how I am, and I talk about Cafe Amour, my friends, and some changes I’ve made to the cottage. It’s not as if I’m going to tell him I just fucked four hot guys. I might want to if Alex was an asshole. But he never has been that.
When there’s a brief lull in the conversation, I feel as if it’s now or never. I take a deep breath and clench my fists on top of the table. Alex seems to sense something’s off too.
“Are you alright?” He’s looking at me like I might be dying. I guess that’s what I must seem like. For all he knows, I’m deathly ill under the scarf and sunglasses—so gaunt and pale that I didn’t want to shock him with my appearance.
“No,” I say slowly. “Listen, I really can’t explain how this happened, but...something happened to my face.” He only looks confused at that, and I take a breath. “I have—I look much different now. I sort of wanted to meet you because no one has...seen me since this happened. I wanted to see, I don’t know, what your reaction would be.”
Alex is squinting at me like I might have completely lost my mind. “Okay, sure. Did you get some weird plastic surgery or something?”
“No,” I say, laughing bitterly. “I kind of wish it was that simple.”
“Jesus, Hope, what happened?” Alex looks genuinely concerned.
I honestly don’t know if I’m making him worry unnecessarily or what. But instead of answering, I take a deep breath and then remove my hat, sunglasses, and slowly unwind my scarf. Finally, I look up at Alex.
Alex’s mouth drops open. His eyes are wide. He looks absolutely horrified.
“What the hell happened to you?” Alex says. “I don’t—Were you attacked or something? Oh my God, Hope.” He starts to reach out to grab my hand, which is sweet, but at the last second, he recoils and looks away. He glances over again and grimaces, only to turn his gaze from me once more.r />
“I…” I have a lump in my throat. I feel myself choking up and my hands shake as I try to cover my face again. “I told you, I—I can’t tell you how it happened…” My voice is shaking so badly, but the way Alex is looking at me is making me feel worse and worse. I thought I was being much too vain and superficial. But Alex is looking at me like I’m an absolute monster. “Is it really that bad?”
“It’s…” He shakes his head. “I...I don’t know. I don’t know what to tell you.”
Well, there’s my answer.
“Can you not even look at me?” I say, my voice wavering all over the place. “Alex?”
I see him sort of build up his courage, and I feel as if that hurts more than anything. The idea that he has to really psych himself up even to look at me is horrible. Finally, his eyes meet mine and he just looks sad.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.”
I can’t decide if how serious and grave he’s being is making me feel better or worse. No, worse, I think. He’s acting as if I died. It’s actually making me feel a little bit indignant. I’m about to tell him that when he gets up from the table, checking his phone.
“Hey,” he says. “I’m sorry, I’ve really got to. I’ve got a meeting—”
“You work from home,” I say darkly. Of all the dippy excuses.
“It’s a Skype meeting,” he says quickly.
“Yeah, right,” I say, shaking my head. I stare down at my hands.
What on earth am I going to do?
“I really am sorry, Hope,” Alex says. When I look up and smile at him he turns a bit green and takes an entire step back. “Honestly, if I were you, I’d keep wearing that scarf and stuff.”
“You’re an asshole!” I blurt out. He doesn’t look angry at that, only sad, and he starts to walk away. “And you’re boring!” I add that in for extra measure, and it makes me feel slightly better.
I wish we’d arranged to meet at a bar instead of a coffee shop.
I could really use a drink.
I end up bringing the drinks home with me. If I’m going to be the phantom of the opera for the rest of my life, I might as well booze it up. I’m starting to wonder if I should go the Alex route and try to find a work-from-home job. I don’t know how to code, but maybe there’s something else I could do from home.
I take the bottle of vodka I bought at the store out of its bag and frown down at Millie who is wagging her tail because she doesn’t know any better. “Virtual assistants,” I say to Mille. “Those are a thing, right?”
Millie just keeps wagging her tail because she doesn’t know any better, but I do, which is why I pour vodka into a glass with some cranberry juice. Because cranberry juice is very good for you.
Before I even go for the cocktail, I knock back a large shot of vodka by itself and then shout as it burns going down. Then, I take my cocktail and my laptop and shuffle into my room to plop down on my bed. I change into my favorite pair of what I like to call “moping pajamas.” They’re purple flannel, and they have laughing poodles and dog bones all over them which make me feel slightly better when I need to do some serious moping.
“I’m a monster, Millie.” I sip my cocktail and screw around on YouTube. I also do some half-hearted researching of that spell, but as expected, I discover nothing. “Yeah… I am a complete monster.”
I think of that dark wizard in the swamp again. I wonder if I could possibly bribe him to help me… My last resort is swiftly becoming my first resort. And abruptly I realize that I’ve already decided. I’m definitely going to the dark wizard. I already know it’s what I’m going to do because I can’t find any other options. But if that doesn’t work, I really am going to have to figure out how I’m going to live this way. Maybe I’ll just go full hunchback and move to a bell tower. The sky is the limit really.
At least I’ve made a decision. But that night, when I curl up under the covers and struggle to get to sleep, the thought is not very comforting.
When I finally drop off to sleep, I dream I’m running in the woods. I’m in my panther form, feeling the pleasant pull and stretch of my muscles as my stride quickens. I feel like I’m gliding, almost flying over the ground, a cool breeze blowing back my fur, the sun shining down on me. But I feel the heat on my blood that must be sated. There’s only one cure. I’m searching for those men, those men full of muscles and blood as hot as mine. I’m searching for their warm skin, those firm lips, and tongues that will make me moan.
I dream that I come to a clearing in the woods. At first, I’m wary, on the lookout for any danger that would dare to threaten a predator like me. Then, from out of the clearing, Jared, Dylan, Max, and Freddie appear. They look just the same as when I last saw them, dressed casually in t-shirts and jeans. But the energy between us has shifted, and I can feel their hunger for me.
The men approach me. They’re fascinated by my panther form. They pet my head and stroke my fur. They feel my muscles twitch as they stroke my back and tail. But this isn’t why we are here.
I shift back into human form, and I’m naked, standing there in the clearing, vulnerable and bare before them. The blood inside me pulses for them, and my heart beats faster as their touches change from innocent little pets to something more sensuous. I stand and close my eyes, letting their hands wander. I feel them all over me; rubbing my back, massaging my breasts, stroking my thighs, cupping my cheek. I hear their sweet whispers insisting that I’m beautiful and that they want only me.
I want them so badly, yet in the dream, I can’t seem to move. I open my eyes and look straight into Jared’s. The men are naked now, and I want to pull Jared towards me. I want to claim him with my mouth, but in the haze of dream logic, I have to wait for them to take me.
“Please,” I whisper. “Please…”
I can’t even seem to speak the words, but Jared takes pity. He steps forward, so close that the jut of his erection presses into my hip. I shiver as a cold wind makes my nipples harden, and then Jared’s mouth is covering mine just as Freddie moves up behind me, his cock gently pressing against me. Jared is plundering me with his tongue and Freddie’s hands come up, squeezing my breasts, pinching my nipples. But I want them. I want them inside me. I feel dizzy with it, trembling from it.
Jared takes my hand, kissing my palm, and leads me over to a soft patch of grass, directing me to lie down. I follow his instruction, lying in the cool grass and raising my hands over my head. I feel more naked than I ever have in my life, my legs parted, looking wanton as I lie there. I’m wet, my clit throbbing for them. I dare to touch myself because they’re standing there, watching me, making me wait. My hand cups my breast and slides down my stomach to my entrance. I began to finger myself and Max steps forward.
“No,” Max says. It’s the first word any of them have spoken. He kneels down and pushes my hand back over my head and there is a hint of a smile on his face as he backs up and ducks down. All at once, his tongue plunges inside me and he grips my thighs as I cry out, startled and overcome. His tongue fucks into me and his fingers grip me hard enough to bruise. The others only watch, biding their time, stroking themselves as they stand there with me on display.
I’m so close to coming, I’m clenching my fists, but just when pleasure is moments away, Max stops and smirks, rolling away before Freddie kneels down and hovers over me. He ducks his head and kisses me hard, and I wrap my arms around his neck, arching on the ground, wordlessly begging him to fill me. A single finger teases at my entrance, dancing around my clit and occasionally plunging inside me, and it’s not nearly enough. He knows it. He smiles, before biting my lip, and he disappears allowing Dylan to kneel before me. I want them, I want one of them at least in me, but Dylan gently takes my legs and lifts them up straight in the air. I feel ridiculous for a moment, but then he’s pressing his cock between my thighs, fucking between my legs, and I shriek, arching in the grass. He holds my legs tight and thrusts between my thighs, so close to my core that I’m w
eeping, aching with need. It feels so close to true satisfaction that I think I’ll die from it. He scratches my skin, not hard but just enough sting. The sensation makes the entire experience feel all the more overwhelming. Then, he’s gone, and Jared is hovering over me.
I’m shaking on the ground, my mouth hanging open, my cheeks sticky with tears. All my blood seems to have rushed down to my center, but before I can beg Jared to finally finish this and give me the satisfaction I carve, he’s shoving my knees apart and all at once his thick cock is plunging inside me. I throw my head back, my mouth wide open at the shock of an orgasm that takes over my whole body as Jared thrusts in and out of me, whispering to me about how much they all want this, how much they all want me, how I am the only one.
I wake up in the middle of the night and my sheets are sweaty. I’ve never had a sexual dream that intense or one that felt so viscerally real. I half expected these guys to be naked in bed with me. I’m writhing in the sheets, and I don’t think twice before reaching down to finger myself, furiously stroking my clit, the dream still fresh in my head. I don’t think it’s even a minute before I’m screaming into my wrist, bucking against my hand. I can still feel Jared inside me, it’s so real. I can feel their hands, the heat, their want. When I finish, I’m left quivering, a smile on my face as I once again drop off to sleep.
Hope
In the morning, I wake up feeling a little better. Maybe that’s just because I had an intense dream, but I also think it’s because I’ve decided to talk to the dark wizard and get him to undo my scars. I’m not scheduled to work today anyway, but I drag myself out of bed and mull this over as I feed Millie and make myself some coffee.