Chapter 6 – KILLIAN #2
That wasn't even on my radar as something that could happen. I've witnessed a hundred different bonds in my lifetime and never heard of one being rejected.
"That still doesn't explain why you're staying for the ritual," I say, not bothering to hide my suspicion. "Getting some voyeuristic thrill out of watching us bond our mate?"
Villeneuve sighs like I'm exhausting him.
Good. "Because despite all these precautions, things could still go awry.
You will want someone with strong magic present should that happen.
" His dark eyes lock onto mine. "Unless you'd prefer to risk your mate's life and magic for the sake of your wolfish pride? "
I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache. The bastard knows he has us cornered.
"Fine," I bite out. "But you follow Regina's lead. This is her ritual, her bond, her choice."
"Of course," he says, smooth as silk. "I am merely here to assist."
"And no taking pictures," Sean adds. "Unless we all look really good, then maybe just a couple for the group chat."
Regina clears her throat. "We should get started. It's nearly time."
We've set up the living room according to her instructions—furniture shoved against walls, floor scrubbed with special herbs that make us sneeze, windows open to the night air even though it's cold as balls outside.
No moonlight tonight, new moon and all, but we've got beeswax candles placed at specific points around the room.
Sean wanted to use his collection of novelty candles shaped like dicks.
I shut that down hard. It was bad enough when we had to use them the last time the power went out.
Micah and Sean move Sadie's ritual components, following Regina's directions on placement. Rowan helps her draw a circle in salt and crushed herbs on the hardwood, big enough for all six of us to fit inside.
"The timing must be precise," Villeneuve says, checking a pocket watch that belongs in a museum. "The new moon reaches its ideal point in eighteen minutes."
Regina stands in the center, grimoire open, studying the ritual with intense focus.
Gods, she's beautiful when she's focused.
She's beautiful all the time, obviously, but when she's really wrapped up in some magical bullshit, she gets this look in her eyes that makes me want to put her on the table and fuck her raw on top of all those witchy spell books and blueprints.
Pretty sure my ancestors would curse my dick as penance, but totally worth it.
"This is going to require all of us to be physically connected throughout," she says. Her cheeks flush slightly. "The whole time."
"Skin to skin contact is essential for energy transfer," Villeneuve confirms, adjusting one of the candles. "The more points of contact, the more stable the bond."
"Like a circuit," Rowan says, and my wolf bristles that he's agreeing with our mortal enemy.
"Precisely, Mr. Miftah. The energy must flow freely between all participants."
"So we're basically going to be a naked wolf pretzel with Regina in the middle?" Sean's already looking way too excited. "Supernatural orgy for magical purposes? Nice."
"It's a sacred ritual, you absolute horndog," Micah hisses.
"Can't it be both?" Sean argues. "Sacred AND sexy?"
My wolf paces under my skin. He knows what's coming. The bond we've been chasing since we first caught Regina's scent in that coffee shop. The completion of our pack.
Our mate, finally ours.
"Killian," Regina says softly, and I realize I've been staring at her like a creep. "Are you having second thoughts?"
"Not a single one," I say, meaning it down to my bones. "You're our mate. This just makes it official."
She looks down at her hands with a slight smile. "It's going to change all of us. It's going to be permanent."
"Good. Forever sounds perfect when it's with you."
"Damn bro, when did you turn into Nicholas Sparks?" Sean mutters. "Should we get you a rain poncho for the inevitable kiss in a downpour?"
Micah stares at him. "Are you telling me you've actually read a book?"
Sean tilts his head. "There was a book?"
"There it is," Micah scoffs. "The universal order is back in balance."
Villeneuve clears his throat. "Positions, please. Everyone inside the circle."
I step back from Regina, taking my spot at the northern point. Rowan goes east, Micah south, Sean west. Regina stays at the center, and Villeneuve positions himself just outside—close enough to step in, but not part of the bond itself.
"Before we begin," Villeneuve says, producing the dragon's blood, "there is something you should understand. This ritual will be intense. You will feel each other's emotions, sensations, possibly even fragments of memories. The boundaries between you will temporarily dissolve."
"Like Sadie said," Sean says. "Sticky."
"In... a manner of speaking, I suppose," Villeneuve says, looking mildly disturbed. He hands the vial to Regina. I have to stifle a growl when their fingers brush. "The dragon's blood will help stabilize the energy transfer, but it cannot fully rectify the chaotic nature of what you're attempting."
"You're starting to worry me," Regina says. Her voice is steady, though.
"Good," he replies bluntly. "This should worry you. It should worry all of you."
"Is that a warning or a threat?" My voice drops to a growl.
"Neither, Mr. Underwood. Merely a statement of fact." He gestures to the grimoire. "The incantation must begin precisely at the zenith. Ms. Cook, are you ready?"
She looks around at each of us. Her eyes linger on mine, and I try to shove every ounce of reassurance, strength, and devotion I have into my gaze. Probably just looks like I'm deadlifting half a ton of iron, but I'm trying.
"I'm ready," she says.
"Then disrobe," Villeneuve instructs, turning away to fiddle with the components. "All of you. As I said, skin-to-skin contact is essential."
Sean's already stripping. "Finally, the fun part." He's down to his boxer briefs in what has to be a world record. "FYI, I'm a grower AND a shower."
I roll my eyes but start pulling off my shirt. Beside me, Micah and Rowan do the same. Rowan actually folds his jeans like he's going to be graded on it.
"Do you have to make everything sexual?" Rowan asks Sean.
"Do you have to fold your clothes for a ritual that might turn us all into frogs?" Sean counters, already buck naked and looking way too pleased about it. "If I die, I don't want my last act on earth to be making perfect creases."
Regina hesitates just a second before pulling off the green dress, then the rest. Everything except the glamour. I find myself wishing she'd drop that, too, but if she wants it, that's her choice.
I've seen her naked before—multiple times, thoroughly—but this is different. Her standing proud in the center of our circle, vulnerable and strong at the same time.
Fucking magnificent.
My wolf howls inside me, desperate to claim her. And while shifters like us are used to casual nudity, the fact that Villeneuve is seeing my mate naked has my wolf ready to claw through my skin.
So far, he hasn't looked. Probably because he knows I'm watching him like a hawk.
That, and this room is basically a dick minefield. He's way more likely to catch a cock in his peripheral vision than anything he actually might want to see.
"Three minutes until zenith," Villeneuve announces. "Take your positions."
Regina stands at the center, grimoire in one hand, dragon's blood in the other. The four of us move closer, forming a tight circle around her.
I put my hands on Regina's shoulders from behind. Micah kneels in front of her, hands on her hips. Sean and Rowan take her sides, finding bare skin wherever they can. We're a tangle of arms and legs, and if anyone walked in right now, they'd think they'd stumbled onto a porno shoot.
"One minute," Villeneuve says.
"Are you sure about this?" I murmur against Regina's ear, giving her one last out. Even though it would gut me if she took it.
She turns her head, meeting my eyes over her shoulder. "I'm sure."
The certainty in her voice settles something in my wolf. This is right. She wants this.
"Thirty seconds," Villeneuve counts down. "Ready the dragon's blood."
Regina uncorks the vial of dragon's blood and the smell that floods the room is like nothing I've ever experienced. Ancient. Like fire and ice had a baby that grew up to be terrifying. My wolf recoils, recognizing something older and more primal than himself.
We both hate it. A growl wells up in my chest, but I manage not to lunge at Villeneuve, so I'm calling that personal growth.
"Begin," Villeneuve commands as his watch hits the mark.
Regina starts speaking, voice clear and steady. Latin flows from her lips like she was born speaking it. The air in the room goes heavy, and the electricity in it makes the hair on my arms stand up.
The ritual components start doing weird shit.
Crystals glowing, herbs releasing smoke without burning, the lunar venom swirling in its bowl like an invisible finger is stirring it.
Regina keeps going, voice getting stronger.
The grimoire starts glowing soft blue, matching the starlight pendant around her neck.
"Now," Villeneuve instructs. "The blood."
Regina tips the vial to her lips and takes a sip.
Her body goes rigid against me. She gasps. Before I can freak out, she's turning, pressing her mouth to mine.
The taste hits me like fire on my tongue and something so old it doesn't have a name. Energy surges between us as the blood passes from her mouth to mine, hot and electric. My wolf lunges forward, done being patient.
I barely register Regina turning to pass the blood to Sean, then Rowan, then Micah, completing the circle. With each transfer, the energy in the room ratchets up a notch, pressure building.
"This is the wildest fucking game of spin the bottle ever," Sean manages to growl before the energy surge hits him and his eyes roll back in his head.
Regina picks up the incantation again, but now her voice sounds layered, like multiple people are speaking through her at once. The candle flames leap higher, burning blue-white instead of yellow.
And then it hits me.
A wave of energy so intense I nearly black out.
My consciousness expands, stretching past my body.
I can feel the others too, but not like our usual pack bonds.
Sean's wild, chaotic, tornado-like energy.
Rowan's deep, steady presence. Micah's easygoing nature keeps us grounded even as he's getting swept away.
Regina is like grabbing a live fucking wire.
Raw power and fierce determination all wrapped up in a hurricane of magic and green.
Through our connected minds, I feel the moment Regina's old coven bond starts to break. Regina arches in our hold, screaming. Pain stabs through all of us. Her pain, shared across the bond that's connecting us to her.
"Hold her," Villeneuve commands. "Do not break contact, no matter what happens next."
The pain gets worse. Images flash through my mind—memories that aren't mine. A basement. Blood. A chained and roaring beast. Claws raking across flesh.
Regina's skin.
Her face.
The attack that scarred her.
I snarl, low and dangerous, rage burning through me. At the creature that hurt her. At the coven that used her. At every single thing that ever caused her pain. I'm going to hunt down every last one of them and use their fucking spines as coat racks.
"Focus, Mr. Underwood," Villeneuve snaps. "Your emotions are feeding back into the circuit. Control yourself. This isn't the time for your revenge fantasies, no matter how creative the use of entrails."
What? How the fuck does he know what I'm thinking? Just when I thought this bastard couldn't get any spookier.
I fight to rein in my wolf to keep my rage from bleeding through the bond. As much as I hate to admit it, the professor is right. Regina needs my strength right now, not my anger.
The pain peaks. Another scream rips from Regina's throat. I feel something snap—like a cord stretched past its limit, finally breaking. The pressure in the room drops, leaving us all gasping for air.
"The coven bond is broken," Villeneuve announces. "Now form the new one. Quickly!"
I hold onto the woman in my arms, keeping her steady.
Regina's voice wavers but she picks up again, Latin words flowing into the second part of the ritual. Her body sags against us, exhausted from the broken bond, but we hold her up, keeping her on her feet. Reminding her she isn't doing this alone.
The energy shifts. The chaotic storm of breaking transforms into something focused. I feel my wolf surge forward again, but this time with purpose instead of pure rage.
It's time to claim our mate.