22. Breaking Down
Breaking Down
B irds called from the tops of trees, their song and the patter of rain striking the damp earth created a serene ambiance. It made Greta homesick, heart clenching with longing for something she’d never get back. Tears stung her eyes and her mind convinced her that her scars itched.
Feeling out of breath, she threw a hand out, gripping the rough bark of the nearest tree. Gabriel’s soft footsteps paused ahead of her. Leaves crunched beneath his shoes as he walked back to her. Panic and fear surged through her, another Lycan’s face superimposing over Gabriel’s.
Reaching for her magick, she forced water to swirl up from the ground, weaving around her and creating a protective dome. She prevented every drop of falling rain water from hitting the ground, pulling it around her, thickening her barrier. Red eyes glowed through the water’s murky surface. The red gaze summoned screams echoing in her ears, blood filling her vision. A scream trapped in her throat, caught behind her clenched teeth.
She don’t remember falling, but damp leaves brushed her knees. Her hands clutched at her constricting chest, the air suddenly harder to suck down.
Greta , a voice growled in her head. She looked up blindly, searching for the source. Her magick reached for it eagerly, expanding the cascade of water surrounding her. She heard a panicked shout, eyes landing on Gabriel’s large form being thrown back by the force of the miniature tsunami she’d conjured.
Gabrielle Manson’s stern voice filled her head, the memory beating back her panic. “Raw magick, actual power, comes from emotion, just like spells pull from intent. Never let your emotions become the source of your power. It will consume you. Do you hear me, sweet child? Don’t envy other elements. Water can be just as destructive as earth and fire.”
Greta screamed then, a sound filled with grief. She released her hold on her magick, crumpling to the forest floor, body trembling with suppressed sobs. She’d never hear her mother’s voice again, or inhale the familiar scents of home.
She screamed again, clawing at the hands reaching for her, until her magick pressed against her skin, recognizing Geralt. He forcefully pulled her into his bare chest, claws nicking her skin. She melted into him, letting out desperate sobs. She didn’t cry the day Lycans slaughtered her family.
It felt as if ten years worth of tears flowed from her while she clung to her mate, burying her face in his neck. The bond snapped into place, like a someone pulled a rubber band around them, securing their souls together. His thoughts flowed into her, his grief echoing her own.
Through their link, she saw a pregnant, smiling she-wolf caressing her rounded belly, dimples flashing at a younger looking Geralt. Mate , an animal growled in her head. It referred to the female in the memory and Greta.
Sniffling, she closed her eyes, trying to block out the voice and memory. She had her own dead to mourn. Her mind didn’t have room for Geralt’s too.
He didn’t speak, simply held her, smoothing his hands up and down her back, kneeling in the mud with her. Water churned the forest floor into a pool of wet dirt, in other words, mud. Greta snorted hysterically.
Geralt pulled back, looking down at her with concern in his emerald eyes. Greta stared into the lush depths, feeling like she’d fallen down a well overgrown with nature’s bounty. With a tear-stained face and puffy eyes, she leaned forward, capturing her mate’s lips.
He groaned against her before pulling back.
“Greta—”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to talk about it. In fact, I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to think or feel anything. Can you make that happen, wolf?” Desperation caused the words to stumble out of her mouth in a rush.
Geralt’s eyes searched her face. She felt his hesitation and hunger through their bond. She lunged forward again, crashing her mouth into his, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, nibbling on it, hoping to tempt him into caving in to her demand.
Claws scraped her scalp when he brought a hand to thread through her hair, deepening their kiss. She whimpered against his mouth, nipples hardening beneath her shirt. Feeling ravenous, she shifted in his arms until she straddled his bare thighs, grinding on his hardening cock.
Geralt raised quickly to his knees, leaning forward until her back met the ground. He pulled his mouth away and bared his teeth, eyes focused above her head.
“Get the fuck out of here and let anyone know if I catch them near us, I’ll rip their damn throats out. Understood?” he snarled at who she assumed was Gabriel. Crimson eyes bore into the male beyond her vision .
She heard a grunted, “Yes, Alpha,” before footsteps faded away from them. The uneven footsteps sounded like he limped away, but Geralt claimed her mouth, refocusing her attention on him.
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* ? Skip next chapter to avoid spice.
Song of choice: Control - Zoe Wees