by Nora Ash
I paused as that thought hammered through my brain at the same time as I brushed my nose against slightly raised skin on the back of her neck. Pleasure-tinted flashes from last night filtered through my brain—of shooting my seed deep into her fluttering little pussy while burying my teeth…
The pleasant haze of endorphins I’d woken up in reseeded at the sharp jolt that went through my system at that particular memory.
No.
Surely, I hadn’t…
Surely, I couldn’t…
I sat up with a start, making Poppy moan in sleepy protest, and brushed her tangled mass of hair away from the back of her neck, exposing her creamy skin to my frantic gaze.
Even in the darkness, the indents left behind by my claiming mark were clear as day.
I vaguely noted that I hadn’t broken her skin, only bruised the flesh with my teeth in my mating thrall, but most of my senses were drowned out by the rushing of blood in my ears.
I’d claimed her.
My heart throbbed in my chest, making it hard to breathe.
I… I’d… taken a Mate?
How could this have happened? How could I have done something so fucking reckless? I didn’t have a pack to take her home to, didn’t even have a home to raise pups—
I paused at that particular thought, frowning at my Wolf’s interference. Pups? Pups?
I’d spent the past twelve years on my own, and not once had I had the thought of taking a mate, let alone siring pups. And yet here I was, in bed with a woman now carrying my mating mark on her frail neck and my seed between her legs. A witch, no less!
How the fuck had I let this happen?
…The fucking cookies! She fucking cursed the fucking cookies, didn’t she?!
My heart gave an achy spasm and my Wolf growled in protest, as if the mere thought of the need in my gut for her somehow not being real was blasphemy. But thinking back on the warm flutter of overwhelming need after scarfing down one yesterday, the inability to resist as my yearning for her burst through my carefully upheld barriers until I could do nothing but reach for her… Yeah, she’d laced the fucking cookies.
Never trust a fucking witch!
She’d tricked me into bedding her, into marking her… no. Even as I thought it, I knew in the very depths of my being that that wasn’t what’d happened. Even a love potion, or whatever the fuck she’d put in those blasted cookies, wouldn’t have made me clamp my teeth around the back of her neck and claim her as my own. Forever.
No magic could force a mating bond—nothing could. Nothing, apart from…
For the first time since I’d woken up in Poppy’s bed, I felt cold. Icy tendrils of shock wrapped around my heart and clenched.
Nothing could make a shifter claim his mate without his conscious consent, except…
Except if she was his Fated Mate.
I stared down at Poppy’s still-sleeping face. She looked completely at peace, oblivious to the panic warring in my chest. My hand on the back of her neck trembled and I pulled it back as if I could make the world stop tilting out of focus if I no longer touched her.
Oh, fucking hell. She… she was my… Fated Mate?
Something resonated in the core of my soul as I thought those words—something painful and blissful and deep, letting me know with no ounce of doubt that I was no longer a unit in myself. I was no longer the man I’d been before I drove into this forsaken town.
I was hers.
A witch was my True Mate.
Fucking… fuck!
Was that why my Wolf had been completely out of control since I came to Thompson’s Mill? The bastard knew?
“Fucking traitor,” I whispered into the darkness, my hoarse voice betraying the turmoil of emotions roiling in my gut.
No, no, no. She couldn’t be. She simply couldn’t be.
I had nothing to offer her—a life on the road, no home, no promise that some crafty demon wouldn’t kill me off while out on assignment sooner or later.
No guarantee she would even acknowledge my claim.
I slipped out of bed, pushing my Wolf’s whining protests aside. Everything inside of me was a cacophony of panic and fear and yearning and anger.
She’d taken my very soul, and I’d let her. She’d taken everything I was, and everything I thought I would ever be, and crumbled it into nothing, and all I wanted to do was crawl back into bed and hold her against me. Feel her, smell her, sink my cock into her and breed her full of my pups. Tell her how all I wanted was to protect her, worship her. Love her.
And I’d thought she put a spell on me when we first met. I’d thought the urge I had to protect her then was outrageous.
I should have seen it coming a mile away. And I should have fucking run.
Fucking witch!
I got into my jeans and pulled my t-shirt over my head. I needed to get out of there—I needed to get away to clear my head, or I was going to lose my mind.
My Wolf protested violently as I made to leave the bedroom, and I gritted my teeth against the near-physical pain in my chest at leaving my sleeping, unprotected mate. Shaking like a leaf, I looked back at the bed—back at her.
My mate.
She still rested in deep sleep, an innocent expression gracing her pretty face.
Every cell in my body longed to give in, to return to her and wrap her up in my arms until everything was okay again.
But it wasn’t okay. Not by a long shot.
I dug my hand into my jeans pocket and fished out my phone, quickly typing out a message to her.
I saw her phone on the nightstand light up when the text came through, but she must have turned her phone on silent because no beep sounded in the quiet room.
My heart felt like it was going to burst into a million pieces as I turned away from her and left the apartment, making sure the door locked behind me.
I had found my fucking Fated Mate.
And I’d claimed her, despite always knowing the pain that came with loving someone. Despite promising myself so long ago that I’d never let myself be tied to anyone ever again.
I cast one last look up at her dark bedroom windows before I got into my car and drove away.
13
POPPY
When I woke up, it was to the feeling of having been run over by a freight train. A really perverted freight train.
I stretched out my legs carefully, assessing for damage, but nothing really hurt. It was more a delicious kind of tiredness that seemed to penetrate every muscle in my worn-out body.
Which I guess was to be expected after breaking five years of celibacy with a shifter, of all things. Not that I was ever going to complain about his nature again. If that inner-animal thing meant as wild and intense sex as we’d had last night, then I was all for it. Perhaps the way to heal the rift between shifters and witches was for everyone to share some naked fun time across races.
I smiled at my own sleep-groggy thoughts and turned over to morning-cuddle with my own shifter—and found the other side of the bed empty.
I frowned at the ruffled part of the bed where Jackson had obviously slept, fighting back a stab of unease. Had he left in the middle of the night?
“Jackson?” I called, fighting my tired body to sit up.
No reply.
The unease in my gut intensified. Sure, we hadn’t exactly had The Talk or anything, but… last night had been too intense for this to just be a booty call. Right?
I stumbled out of bed to search my apartment for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Gone.
He’d really left.
I made my way back to my bed and sank down on it, arms wrapped around myself to stem the wave of sadness welling up from somewhere deep within. I didn’t even know why I was this sad—we’d barely tolerated each other before, so why I was expecting him to stick around after having his way with me really made little sense.
In fact, if it wasn’t for the darn cookies, he’d probably have never—
My brain fr
oze up when I recalled exactly what had made Jackson kiss me.
It was nothing but magically influenced desire. My spell must have misfired somehow, and… and I’d… I’d made him… Oh, Goddess, I’d… magically date raped him?
How did that even happen? I hid my face in my hands, a thick wave of shame settling down heavily on my chest. No wonder he’d left. He probably thought I’d done it on purpose. After all, who would eat their own love potion-laced cookies if they weren’t hoping to get frisky?
I moaned brokenly into my palms, wishing with all my might that I’d wake up anytime now, and last night would have just been a kinky dream.
A twinge of regret in my stomach made me bite my lip. So unbelievably stupid, Poppy! How had I let myself get swept away like that? I knew it was the cookies, and still I’d let the magic take hold and I’d…
I’d believed him when he’d said he loved me.
How could I have let myself believe that? Why did I let myself believe that? I didn’t want a boyfriend, let alone the obnoxious shifter agent whose mere presence in Thompson’s Mill was a danger to me. I’d disliked him from the first moment he opened his mouth.
So why did knowing he’d only said he loved me because of the cookies hurt so much?
Feeling more than a small amount of self-pity, I reached out for my phone to text Jade. I’d not had anyone to go to when life sucked in so long, but accidentally drugging yourself and the smoking-hot man who hated your guts seemed like the type of thing you’d cry about on a friend’s shoulder. Of course, Jade thought Jackson was my cousin, and I couldn’t tell her about the bewitched cookies, but it would be nice to at least have someone to hang out with for a little bit.
My fingers paused over the buttons when the screen flickered alive at my touch, and I saw I had an unread message. From Jackson.
I swiped at it with slightly shaking fingers, the tiniest thread of hope weaving itself through my nerves.
Don’t fucking touch another spell. I’ll be back for the demon. -J.
Yeah… he was pissed. The moment’s hope I’d felt when I first saw he’d texted me withered and died as I stared at the short message.
Not that I could really blame him—which didn’t help my morose mood at all. If I’d at least been able to feel the slightest self-righteous, maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much.
I shot a quick message off to Jade, asking if she’d like to come over for a bit and saying I could use the company. Thursdays were always our day off, which was pretty fortunate, since it was already past seven and I was still buck naked. I usually spent my days off shopping or cleaning, and occasionally driving out to the creek for a walk, but today I needed to not be alone with my own thoughts, or I’d just end up watching a sappy movie marathon that’d somehow convince me that Jackson was my one true love, or something equally ridiculous.
Sweet patootie, how did my entire emotional balance get this thrown out of whack over one night of sex? Clearly, celibacy wasn’t healthy for a girl’s state of mind!
Much to my relief, Jade answered back within two minutes, saying she’d be right over.
Motivated by not wanting to open the door wearing nothing but the stale stench of sex, I rolled off my bed and shuffled to the bathroom, the reminder of Jackson impossible to ignore as every step sent a delicious sort of ache through my abdomen.
I took a quick shower, cleaned my teeth, and got into a pair of old jeans and a plaid shirt, pulling my hair up in a ponytail as I made my way out from the bathroom again. I caught a glimpse of myself in my bedroom mirror and shook my head at how sad I looked.
“Pull it together, Poppy,” I muttered. “You’ve survived demon attacks—you’re not going to lose it because some stupid, sexy shifter decides he doesn’t want you, after all.”
Even if that stupid, sexy shifter had made me feel things last night I’d never even thought could be real. I’d never felt more safe, nor more treasured, than in his arms.
I let my hand slide up along my neck, shivering at the memory of Jackson’s hands on me, caressing and igniting every inch of my body.
“Ow.” I bit my lip at the small twinge when my fingertips brushed over what felt like an indent at the back of my neck. A sore indent.
Frowning, I pushed my hair out of the way and twisted my neck so I could see what I’d inadvertently brushed against.
Red and purple bruises in the unmistakable shape of teeth decorated the back of my neck, right underneath my hairline. A bite mark.
A bite mark?
He’d bitten me!
“Son of a gun!” I hissed, staring open-mouthed at the mark. “What the fudge-stick!”
I vaguely remembered his teeth digging into my neck when we’d both climaxed that final time, but my endorphin rush must have soothed the majority of the pain, because judging from those bruises, he’d bitten me hard.
Who the heck bites their partner during sex?
Shifters, that’s who, a small, supercilious voice—which sounded an awful lot like my grandmother’s—piped up.
I snorted, briefly amused at what Grandma Josie would have said if she’d known her granddaughter had shared a bed with “a filthy shifter,” as she often referred to them. My grandmother was a brilliant witch and sweet in her own way, but when it came to mixing with the other races—and especially shifters—she was less than tolerant.
I rubbed my fingertips over the mark, closing my eyes as a small shiver that had nothing to do with pain traveled up my spine. It felt… weird. Almost… magical somehow, but at the same time, not like anything I’d come across before. Did shifters have their own magic?
Was I simply obsessing over an aggressive hickey because I was grasping at straws for anything and everything that could make sense of why my stomach felt heavy with longing for the man I’d spent days convincing myself I hated?
I grimaced at my own reflection and fell down on my bed again, grabbing my phone to check the time.
Half an hour since Jade texted she’d be here in ten.
I texted her again, asking if she was all right, and then collapsed on my back to stare miserably at the ceiling. Normally, when I was feeling out of sorts, I calmed myself down by baking something gooey and delicious, but I didn’t trust myself to not accidentally put a drop of magic in there and somehow bewitch myself again. Perhaps another love potion, so when he finally came back I’d jump him like a cat in heat. Again.
A thump at my front door made me sit upright, relief flickering through my chest. Jade. Not being alone with my own thoughts was definitely what I needed!
But when I walked into the hallway and opened the door, no one was there.
I frowned, my gaze falling on the piece of white, folded-up paper lying on my doormat. I bent to pick it up, flicking it open to find a bold script scrawled across the page.
I’ve got your friend.
If you want to see Jade alive again, come to the old barn by Thompson’s Creek.
Alone.
- D
14
POPPY
For a moment, I considered doing as the note said and rushing to the abandoned barn outside of town to save Jade.
I don’t know why I’d been so stupid to believe the demon would leave her alone just because she was a human. Or why I’d been so stupid as to form any sort of friendship with her, because that was undoubtedly what had put her in danger.
Perhaps the demon had just waited for me to form even the faintest of ties before it decided to strike—perhaps that was what he’d been waiting for this past year and a half since he got to town.
I bit the inside of my cheek, guilt and fear warring in my gut. She must be terrified out of her mind.
At least he hadn’t taken Jackson.
The uninvited thought cropped up before I could stop it, and I shook my head to get rid of it.
Jackson wasn’t a helpless human—he was a shifter and an agent who undoubtedly knew how to take care of himself. The thought of him in the sheriff’s grasp should make
me feel better, not worse.
In fact… Flashes of his obvious strength as he lifted me up on the kitchen counter yesterday flickered in front of my mind’s eye—the wildness in his eyes as he lay claim to my body.
If anyone had a chance to save Jade from the demon, it was him.
I’d picked up my phone and pressed “call” on his number before I’d even fully registered what my hands were doing.
It wasn’t for me—it was for Jade, I told myself as I listened to the phone ringing again and again, waiting to connect. This was his job—he’d want me to call him.
Finally, on the fourth ring, the line connected and Jackson growled, “What?” into my ear.
I forced the spike of hurt down at the obvious anger in his voice. He had every right to be angry, but this was more important than that.
“The demon took Jade. My employee,” I said, biting my lower lip when I realized just how much better I felt just from having him on the other end of the line. He could have been a hundred miles away, for all I knew, and still… knowing he could hear me, that he would know how to make everything better, spread a measure of ease through my body. The bite on my neck throbbed as if in agreement.
“I need your help to save her.”
A foul curse ground out between clenched teeth. “I’ll be there as soon as possible. Don’t do anything stupid—stay inside and don’t open your door for anyone but me, got it?”
I frowned, kinda insulted. “I didn’t call you to get lectured, thanks. Just thought you wanted to know some innocent human was in mortal danger while you were off sulking.”
“Just fucking stay inside,” Jackson snapped, and then hung up on me.
THE BANGING on my front door made me jolt from my curled-up position on my bed, where I’d spent the past hour clutching my phone and willing Jackson to materialize.
I rushed out to the door and peeked through the spyhole, relief filling me when I saw Jackson’s looming figure on my doorstep.
Without pause, I ripped the door open. “Thank the goddess you’re here!”
I hadn’t meant to voice the one deafening thought the sight of the large shifter brought to the forefront of my mind. Purely because we could finally go save poor Jade, I thought sternly at the small stab of excitement in my gut when our eyes met.
