Chapter 26 Hannah
Hannah
The grandfather clock strikes six by the time I get up the nerve to enter the parlor again. Only an hour until the moon sets. An hour to convince Julia to surrender, which I’m willing to bet is something she’s never done before.
Julia is in one of the wingback chairs, a stack of ancient books beside her, one of them open in her lap with symbols written across the page. She’s concentrating so hard she doesn’t see me, so I lean against the doorframe to watch her for a moment.
Her profile is striking in the firelight—the sharp angles of her cheekbones and jawline, her neck, the straight line of her nose.
Her thick hair is tucked behind her ear and her ankles are crossed, making her look so normal.
She’s running an elegant finger down the page, her lips moving silently as she concentrates.
My fingers ache to touch her and smooth the crease between her brows.
The room is peaceful, just her and the crackling fire, which has been rekindled with more wood. I picture myself sitting beside her and picking up my own book, the two of us reading under the warm glow while frost builds outside, catching each other’s eye and smiling.
A whole other life that will never happen.
Why did that image come to mind, anyway? Julia is not that type of person. She and I could never be on those terms.
I watch her fingers move across the pages with surprising delicacy for someone so deadly—those fingers that were inside me a short while ago. My thighs clench at the memory. I’m still tingling between my legs, wanting more.
I trace my gaze down the swell of her breasts and the curve of her waist. Is there anyone more beautiful in the entire world?
My breath hitches as I try to keep my composure. Slowly, over the course of the evening, I’ve become insatiable for her. Even the simple flex of her forearm as she turns the page makes my mouth dry.
I shut the parlor doors and lock them, and the click makes her look up.
Our eyes meet across the room, and the air changes, the temperature seeming to rise several degrees.
The firelight throws shadows across her face. Her wintry eyes pin me in place, and her parted lips remind me of her bruising kisses. My skin prickles with the memory of what we did in the forest.
If I’m not mistaken, there’s a flash of that look on her face now. Like the memory is tormenting her, too.
Good. Let her want me until she can’t take it anymore.
The air is thick. It feels like an invisible wall is pressing at my back, forcing me closer.
I can see her fighting the binding spell’s pull too, gripping the edges of the book in her lap with white knuckles.
“Find anything?” My voice comes out strained.
She blinks and looks down at the book. “Rebecca was thorough.”
The defeat in her tone makes my chest squeeze. I’ve never heard her sound so human.
I walk over, my bare feet silent on the Persian rug, my heart pounding.
Riley would be horrified at what I’m about to do. Dean would drag me out of here. But they’re not the ones bound to her. They don’t understand this pull inside me. Being close to her is the only thing my body wants, and it’s the only way out of this.
So I keep walking closer. “Julia.”
She meets my gaze, and the rawness in her eyes catches me off guard. For once, there’s no predatory confidence, just a woman facing the possibility of losing everything.
I swallow hard, summoning bravery. “I’m ready to try again. To trust you fully this time.”
Her eyes widen in surprise. Then her brow furrows, and she searches my face. “After what Rebecca told you?”
“Because of what she told me.” I move close enough to catch her scent, which sends a comforting trickle through my veins. “I understand what I’m risking now, and I’m choosing it anyway.”
“Then you’re either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish.”
“Maybe I’m both. But…I’m also incredibly tired of being afraid.
” It hits me that I’m not afraid of her anymore, which doesn’t make sense, given all I’ve learned.
Then again, maybe it makes perfect sense.
“Of everyone in my life, you’re the only one who’s been honest about who you are.
Riley lied. My parents pretended to care when they didn’t.
At least you were honest from the moment we met. ”
Julia closes the book and lays it on the pile, her movements slow. “Honesty is no reason to trust me, pet. If we attempt this again and fail—”
“I’m positive. But I need something from you.” My pulse quickens. This is the gamble. “I need something real.”
She goes very still.
I take a breath, steadying myself. “I want us to have sex, and not just for the purpose of feeding. You can feed on me at the end, but I need this if I’m going to trust you fully.”
I’m not being entirely truthful about my revelation, but this is necessary. She needs to think this is about me surrendering and trusting her enough to let go. If she knows I’m trying to make her surrender too, she’ll get her guard up even more than it already is.
“That is not what I am, Hannah.” Her voice wavers, and she breaks our gaze.
She’s afraid of what she feels. Which means she feels something. If I can make her want me so much that she lets me take control…
“I’m not asking you to change who you are.” I close the distance between us, standing over her. To have her seated like this, looking up at me, feels like a reversal of how things have been all night. My stomach flutters as my body recognizes what could happen if she agrees.
“What, then?” she murmurs.
I run my fingers through her hair, toying with the tangled strands. She goes still beneath my touch.
Her hair is softer than it looks—thick and silky, smelling faintly of smoke and that apple-cinnamon scent I’ve come to crave.
I let the strands slip through my fingers slowly, watching the way her breath hitches. The sound is barely noticeable, small and involuntary, but it’s there.
I do it again, this time letting my nails scrape gently against her scalp. “In the forest, I couldn’t surrender fully because it was just about the feeding. About you taking my life force. You were still clothed, and…I need more than that.”
Her chest rises and falls more rapidly as I stand over her, combing my fingers through her hair. One more step and I’d be right in her lap.
She searches my face. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and I suppress the desire to lean in.
“I can’t surrender to a sanguine witch,” I say, “but I can surrender to you.”
She scowls at the fire, a muscle in her jaw jumping. “You’re a fool if you think there’s a difference.”
I reach out and trace along her jawline, angling her face back toward me. She doesn’t pull away. “Tell me you don’t want me, Julia. Tell me that when you touched me in the forest, it was only about feeding.”
Her pupils dilate. “Very well. But I—I don’t know what you would have me do if I’m not to feed.”
My pulse quickens until I feel it in my throat. Has Julia never had sex except to feed?
All this life experience, and she’s never had an intimate encounter that wasn’t about her magic.
She’s never seduced for pure passion or touched someone just to feel them.
She’s never had someone pleasure her because they want her instead of her magic.
She’s never just been a woman wanting another woman.
The realization puts a surprising ache in my chest. I’m not just asking her to surrender—I’m asking her to be vulnerable in a way she’s never been before. To let me see her as something other than a sanguine witch.
I thought I was the inexperienced one, but in this, she’s more innocent than I am.
No wonder she looks afraid.
“Let me show you.” My voice comes out breathy, betraying how much I want her.
Before I lose my nerve, I straddle her lap—one knee on either side of her thighs, my arms caging her head as I grip the back of the chair.
Her breath hitches as she looks up at me. I swear I can feel her heartbeat from here, racing as fast as mine.
Seeing the hungry look on her face and knowing I can affect her like this makes me dizzy with want.
Her eyes drop to my mouth, and her lips part.
I bend down and bring my lips to hers, savoring her sweet taste.
Her mouth opens for me, and her hands glide up my waist to hold me.
She leans forward as if to get up, but I press into her harder, pinning her with my body. I trace her lower lip with my tongue, and she lets out a soft sound that sends heat straight to my core.
I break the kiss and pull back enough to look at her. “Tell me you want this,” I whisper.
Her chest heaves against mine. Her eyes are wide, her lips full with that freshly kissed look.
She dips her chin in the smallest of nods.
I might be imagining it, but I swear she’s already starting to surrender.
And once she does—once she comes apart for me—we’ll both be free.
Or so I hope.