Witch Darkness Follows (Maeren Series Book 3)

by Mercedes Jade

  Geer really hadn’t expected her. He hadn’t been able to use his mate-bond to spy on her.

  “The circle for dream crossing is open to being crossed by anyone, like an amplification circle. Otherwise, its purpose would be defeated. It’s only closed once extra glyphs are added, trapping those within the circle,” Geer explained.

  A lot of that made sense, although some of it got her temper up.

  “Like what Raphael was trying to do Victoria in her dreams?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes. She is his gaisa,” Geer said.

  “You’ve told me that before to justify using magical force. It won’t fly with Victoria or me!”

  “Did your vampire swains court you with flowers and go down on bended knee? I would think a witch with lightning in her veins would prefer more fire in a suitor.”

  They’d not forced her—exactly—but Daemon, George, and even Phillip, had taken liberties.

  They would stop if she asked—though, they might try to seduce her for more once she let down her guard again.

  She couldn’t deny that their bold advances were a turn on.

  “I wasn’t forced,” Elizabeth insisted.

  “Raphael only wants to bring his gaisa to safety—at his side. He won’t force his attention, either. It’s a seduction he had planned, the same as any other suitor Victoria may have had before at court.”

  “She’s not had a lot of suitors,” Elizabeth said.

  “I can warn Raphael. He’ll be more cautious.”

  “Okay,” she agreed.

  “How about you, sparks? How many suitors have you had besides your mates?”

  “I’m not answering that.”

  “Have you let one of your mates between your thighs yet?” Geer persisted.

  “None of your business.”

  “Can I kiss you?” he whispered against her ear.

  “No. I—not yet. We are still strangers. I don’t understand why there’s a mate-bond between us. You bit me, and I can’t even remember it because I was unconscious. You . . . you stole that bond from me!”

  “I did. How could I pass up the chance, when Raphael told me that there was a witch with lightning in her veins?” Geer asked.

  “Do you have lightning?”

  “My gaisa was foretold to have lightning. A lightning witch? It’s why I never thought I’d find a gaisa. Some fortunes are only a cruel glimpse of a future that is impossible.”

  He sounded very bitter. It didn’t suit the young male of his appearance.

  It was more something that someone with a lot of life failures would espouse.

  “How do you know . . . for sure? Do you have a spell to check if I’m your gaisa?”

  “The dreams,” Geer answered. “You spoke to me in your dreams after the bite. Then, I used our bond to connect with you using spells that—indeed—are meant only for mates. Most of Maeren have forgotten them, but not dragons. Our gaisa are revered and we are taught everything about them in hopes that some of us may still find our gaisa.”

  He made her sound like a dream come true.

  Was that how he really felt?

  Had Geer been waiting for her his whole life?

  “Let me turn, so I can face you,” Elizabeth said.

  Geer loosened his grip.

  She wiggled her body around, wrapping one arm over his shoulder and another hand placed gently on his chest.

  His heart thumped strongly under her fingers.

  Golden eyes met hers as Geer smiled.

  It was boyishly cute, as if the dragon was trying to look harmless for her.

  How incredibly young he appeared struck her anew.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  Geer’s smile turned into a wince.

  “This is a side effect,” he replied.

  “What?”

  “I’m older than I look?”

  The way he said it sounded more like a question, as if he was guessing what she’d want to hear or understand.

  “Tell me in winters,” she insisted.

  “I . . . I don’t know . . . precisely.”

  “How can you not know?” she asked, puzzled.

  He smiled again.

  She caught sight of dimples peeking out, reaching up to thumb over one of them.

  “Are you even old enough for me to kiss you, babyface?” she teased.

  He did look over eighteen, but barely.

  “Please, kiss me,” he pleaded. “I’ll look older in the morning as the magic works.”

  “You’ll tell me how that works,” Elizabeth said, still puzzled.

  She couldn’t resist giving him a kiss when he was so sweet and needy.

  It was as if her kiss was the only thing he wanted for Christmas.

  She shifted her hand on his face, so it slipped back to hold his head, her fingers teasing his short hair.

  Wiggling closer, she brought her lips to his, while her eyes remained wide open to catch the moment his long eyelashes dropped closed on smooth cheeks with the barest hint of a flush to them.

  Was he getting primed over a little kiss?

  His lips were soft. Fire almost sparked across their mouths as they touched. It felt amazing.

  She pushed closer to him, her hand on his shoulder tightening to hold him to her.

  The magic danced from their mouths down to the rest of her body, leaving her feeling warm and buzzing with energy.

  She moaned against his lips, licking them tentatively for entry. As soon as he opened, she encountered swollen fangs.

  Licking one, she heard him moan, too, in response.

  He pulled his mouth back. “Sparks, are you afraid of me?” he asked.

  She curled her fingers in the short hair at the back of his neck.

  What a strange question.

  He’d stopped kissing her to check in that she wasn’t afraid?

  “Yours aren’t the first fangs I’ve licked,” she warned him.

  He had inquired about her mates and her previous boyfriends. This was a hint.

  “Dragons have rather large fangs,” Geer said.

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes.

  “Also not the first time I’ve heard a guy claim to be big,” she mocked.

  Geer rolled her onto her back, suddenly on top.

  Even his babyface couldn’t hide the solid feel of the muscled male lying over her.

  Dragons were as hard as earth-lords.

  “Is your stomach better?” Geer asked, continuing to casually talk while he squashed her underneath him.

  “I can’t breathe,” she complained. “I was feeling better, but if you continue to put all your weight on me, my stomach just might surprise you.”

  Geer balanced his weight on his forearms on either side of her, boxing her in. His knee split her thighs, further alleviating the heaviness of his body, although now she had to contend with the thick, hard feel of his muscled thigh pushed against her—

  Dear Maeren! She was naked as the day she was born under this oversized shirt.

  “Where are my panties?” she asked, closing her eyes shut tight in embarrassment.

  “You weren’t wearing any.”

  That’s right. She had on the Maeren equivalent.

  “Drawers. Where are my drawers?”

  “They were dirty. That’s what happens when you wear them without overclothes. I remembered how much you said you hated dirty clothes and took care of them for you.”

  More like he paid her back for making fun of his dirty shirt and took advantage of the situation.

  “Really?” she asked, opening her eyes again to glare up at him. “Why are you still wearing a dirty shirt then? I doubt you even know how to wash—”

  Geer rose up, ripped his dirty shirt in half, and shrugged it off his shoulders, the sleeves slipping down.

  “Oh, I never said I washed your drawers. This is what we do,” he explained, grabbing the discarded shirt and tossing it into the air.

  He blew fire at it. The entire thing fell as
ashes to the floor, completely incinerated.

  “Now, your floor is dirty,” she remarked.

  The display of fire so close to her should have made her flinch, but the strong arms around her felt protective, like a shield surrounding her.

  His tattoos were all glowing white hot after the display of magic.

  She’d wondered how far the markings went.

  He had two full sleeves and the thick markings on his neck that joined them together. His chest was a clean slate, not a single scar or marking over the slabs of muscle.

  “My pants might be dirty, too,” Geer said, interrupting her staring at his chest.

  “No.”

  Geer pouted. He did it really well, especially with those dimples.

  Maybe that was why she wasn’t afraid of him. He did seem harmless in person. All of those snarky threats in her head had turned out to be ‘hot air’ in reality.

  He hadn’t done anything to really hurt her since she’d broken into the dark clan caves.

  Even the laudanum sounded like a mistake. It was common to give ladies a little sherry or laudanum in Maeren to calm their nerves.

  He’d said he’d stolen the idea from Pan’s schemes, which Elizabeth hadn’t mentioned out loud, so he truly must have read their memories.

  All of this bed play seemed to have more emphasis on play. He was teasing her, having fun with it.

  “You are a brat!” she declared, coming up with something to describe this Geer. The younger, mischievous one that was on top of her now.

  His eyes flashed something before he blinked it away.

  She shivered.

  Geer leaned down over her until they were nose-to-nose.

  “I told you, it’s a side effect. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

  He grabbed her hands and put them on his rock hard abs and smooth chest.

  She curled her fingers against the muscles, very tempted to explore.

  “This hot, tight body isn’t forever, sparks. Before you know it, I’ll have chest hair and new scars. Of course, you did seem to enjoy your rough earth-prince. Would you prefer me to get marked up to your tastes?”

  She leaned her head forward to close the distance between their mouths and bit his lower lip, hard, before drawing back.

  His powerful blood dripped down into her mouth, so much stronger than a young male should possess.

  He had sounded almost self conscious in his teasing remark, but she knew her earth mate would take it more seriously if he’d overheard Geer.

  “That’s going too far to bring George up because of your insecurities. George has had a hard life. Some of his scars are really fucked up and he hates them. Are you always so judgemental?” she asked, swallowing the blood she’d bitten from Geer.

  A dragon could be insecure? What did he have to fear? He was a top predator in a realm full of monsters.

  Geer leaned even nearer, his arms coming closer to take away every inch of space left.

  He cupped her face on either side with his hands, his fingers tangling in her hair as his big palms stretched all the way from her jawline to the back of her head.

  He had really big hands. Those fangs of his might not be so normal sized, after all. She hadn’t felt them properly, just the barest of licks.

  Fire met her gaze, flickering in his eyes.

  “I was jealous,” Geer bit out.

  He admitted to it?

  “What? You said you wanted to watch when George fed from me!”

  “He didn’t want to share. Besides, you never complained about his looks. Am I too pretty boy for you?”

  He didn’t let her answer. His bitten lips were on hers, and this time, he took control of the kiss. He thrust into her mouth with his tongue, the taste of his blood between them.

  Fire burned down her body, centred on her pussy as he ground his thigh against her firmly.

  She dug her fingernails into his shoulder and chest, hanging on as he drove her body to prime in a matter of moments.

  The big, bad dragon wanted a turn.

  This kiss was as carnal as any that her other mates had laid on her. There was no awkward fumbling or tentative thrusts.

  Geer claimed her mouth like he pillaged maidens on a daily basis.

  Her neck craned back on the bed as he pushed down on her lips with bruising force, his tongue snaking around hers as he sucked away her resistance.

  She vaguely noted those big hands had positioned her just the way he wanted, unable to hold back from him or escape. A calloused thumb pulled down on her chin and firm fingers weaved tightly into her hair, next to her scalp.

  He applied the perfect tension to her hair, that thumb on her chin encouraging her mouth to open wide, little gasps all that could escape as he plundered her soft mouth.

  She raked him with her fingernails, not even caring where she was holding onto him, only that he felt the blaze he was creating, too.

  Her lightning danced along the lines of fire she scratched onto him.

  He pulled back from their kiss, rocking the lower half of his body against her.

  His lips twisted into a wicked, excited grin.

  “Yes, use your claws on me, gaisa. Mark me yours,” he encouraged her, pressing his chest against her hold.

  “You have already gotten your kiss,” she said, dropping her hands. She dug her nails into her own hips, determined to stop.“Now, you owe me more explanations. Don’t play with me!”

  Geer smirked, a hint at the real male hiding under the boyish good looks and demeanour.

  He knew she’d called him out and he didn’t look all that repentant, wearing the marks of their outburst of passion.

  He sucked his bloody lower lip that she’d bitten into his mouth as he contemplated her question.

  Fire still flashed in his eyes.

  She wondered if she’d pushed him too far.

  Primed males were dangerous, impossible to deny once they’d lost control over their bloodlust.

  He released his lower lip, showing her a hint of his swollen fangs.

  They were big, really big! He couldn’t even close his mouth fully over them, his lips slightly apart and the sharp, white fangs protruding in threat.

  She’d let the dragon get much too close!

  “What is it you wanted to know? The secret to my fountain of youth?” Geer asked, bright and cheerful.

  He smiled and she couldn’t see anything, but a normal hint of polite fang. Enough to say he was male; no more than could be flashed without startling the young ladies who had yet to be served the first time.

  Like her.

  "You’re using illusion on me . . . ?” she questioned, blinking her eyes at him and those innocent-looking fangs.

  "I think it’s preferable, for now, gaisa,” Geer confirmed.

  Her body lost some of its tension, despite his confirmation.

  It was hard to fear the boyishly sweet smile, even if she’d glimpsed the real fangs he’d hidden.

  “Do you need to be on top of me to talk?”

  Another smirk, a bit more fang. “Absolutely. How else can I prime you properly for the spell?”

  She squirmed under him in earnest, but he’d planned for it, boxing her in well earlier.

  He was even pressed too close to her lower half to allow a good knee to his balls.

  She tried tearing into his mind, but the dragon-feel of his thoughts was even more difficult than all of the others for her to penetrate.

  She could only perceive the bright white of his magic, almost whirling in a storm of stars around his powerful soul.

  Planets orbiting a sun!

  What the heck was going on in his mind?

  "Stay out, sparks."

  “If you weren’t so difficult to get answers out of, then I wouldn’t have to try to crack your mind!” Elizabeth retorted.

  “Listen to me carefully. I’ll only say this once. You’ll forget, of course, but I want to be fully honest when I tell you later that you’ve got the answers in your mind. Not
up to me to unlock them for you.”

  Weirder and weirder.

  “Why would I forget? I never forget anything,” Elizabeth said. “It’s kind of a curse of having lightning.”

  Geer seemed like he’d been about to stay something—likely something he knew by rote, given the bored look on his face—but he swallowed it back.

  “Actually, you’re right. You might remember. Thanks for warning me,” he said instead.

  “And . . . ?” she prompted when he said nothing else.

  “I suddenly am without words. The magic likes to hide—it messes with my mind and others all the time. Side effects, like I said. Not worth risking you being hurt by revealing my secrets. What if you forget everything, and not just what I say about the magic?”

  Elizabeth grumbled about asshole dragons and leaned her head back on the mattress, letting out a big sigh.

  She realized that Geer had let her, relaxing his hold on her head marginally.

  "Tell me something or let me go,” she demanded.

  Geer leaned towards one of her ears, giving it a nibble before whispering into it.

  “I can tell you that I’m a special dragon. It makes me a bit of an outcast from my clan, so I didn’t want to announce that you were my gaisa and have you branded, too.”

  Special?

  “What do you mean branded? I thought dragons used torqs instead of claims?” she asked, not really satisfied with his answer.

  It was hardly scratching the surface of his secrets.

  Geer shifted back up, displaying his heavily tattooed neck and the golden torq she’d mentioned.

  “You should be wearing my torq, but we have to tread carefully in these caves. Raphael has spread the word that I’m providing protection for you—as a courtesy towards an honoured messenger for Prince Daemon. Otherwise, you would be painted with the same brush as me. Black, in case you’re wondering.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s a big misunderstanding. But like I said, everyone I tell forgets, so . . .”

  “Geer?”

  “Yeah?"

  “I’m no longer primed. Can you get off of me?”

  “Liar,” Geer whispered, leaning to kiss the right side of her neck that she’d left exposed while sighing.

  She moaned.

  He had gone right for the pulse, sucking on her skin hard. George would have a fit when he saw the mark.

  Her stupid body didn’t care. She was on fire, and had been for the whole time, since Geer had first flipped her onto her back and applied himself more ardently.