Chapter 21
Twenty-One
Felix
Felix’s eyes widened as he stood in front of his bonded witch, a sense of awe swirling in his chest. She had used magic.
His magic. The moon shone over her in dappled light, shadows of the tree crawled over her topless form as if they were worshipping her.
Felix looked to the stars lest he be tempted again.
The meager sliver of control he’d been clinging to had already slipped.
It always did with brats who needed to be put in their place.
This little witch was going to be his undoing.
Her arms shook from the cold, and something within him fought to warm her, cover her.
The urge died as he shoved that instinct down and turned it into a snake that coiled within him, ready to strike.
“You took something of mine without permission, little witch.” His lip curled as he spoke.
Shifters couldn’t heal others. It was impossible; it was why the humans needed the witches. Shifters were made to be beasts, for violence and protection. Witches were meant for restoration. Somehow, she had tapped into his magic and made it her own. Like he was a goddamn familiar. No.
“Your magic?” she protested.
In one movement, he grabbed her arm and, for the second time that day, made her bleed.
She tried to jerk it free, but he only grabbed tighter, earning a hiss as blood poured down onto the forest floor.
Its sweet scent enveloped him; he couldn’t hold back any longer.
He needed to taste it again. He licked it clean like some sort of deranged beast.
He wiped the blood from his mouth and sucked it off his fingers. “Heal it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“You did it once, you can do it again.”
Her lip quivered slightly, but it was enough that knots formed in his stomach, something that might’ve been regret, causing it.
Somewhere over the last few days, he had started to hesitate, to think about the pain he caused before he caused it.
That wasn’t like him at all. He was a blade, and she was dulling his goddamn edge.
He should’ve hated it. Hated her. She may have been the one bleeding right now, but his fucking heart was bleeding more.
Avery fluttered her eyes shut, and something tugged at the bond. The blood on the ground started to vibrate, ripples violently moving through it.
Every muscle stiffened. What the fuck?
It was small at first, almost unnoticeable.
A gentle pull on the bond. Then all at once, a rush of ecstasy flooded his system, unlike anything he had ever felt before.
His knees almost buckled, power thrumming within him as he saw the golden threads of their bond weaving around them like trails of fireflies.
It took everything in him to stand upright.
He barely managed to lean into the tree and look down at the witch whose wound was healing.
More than that, he was only inches from her face, and the need to kiss her pulsed through him as she parted her lips, beckoning him forth.
Worst of all, it felt natural. Like this was what was meant to happen.
It made no sense, none of this made any fucking sense.
Only shifter mates had a bond, only witches pulled power from their familiars.
Whatever was happening between them was unholy.
For a moment, he almost let her have it.
Let himself be a vessel for her use, his body begging to give in to her.
The bond purred in his chest, its appetite ravenous for the little witch. It wasn’t sexual, exactly, though there was something undeniably intimate about it, like he was opened, exposed—like she was reaching inside and touching something no one should ever touch.
Magic poured from him, rushing to fill the empty spaces inside her, pieces of a puzzle destined to fit together.
No. No. He was not a familiar. She was not his mate.
Every rational thought recoiled as his body lapped up the connection. He grabbed his head, clawing at his mind and drawing blood, the hot rivulets running down his face.
No.
He clamped down on the connection, imagining himself severing the line. He pictured himself cutting the golden thread, burning, disintegrating it—anything to make it fade into nothing.
If only it were that easy.
Avery continued to siphon, the wound closing even further.
Her eyes moved back and forth under her lids as if she were stuck in a trance.
With each passing second, he felt his power draining.
Was she using it? Stealing it? Channeling it?
It didn’t matter; his magic was leaving him, pouring into her as if she were a bottomless pit, a river that refused to be dammed.
He wouldn’t let this little witch take any more than she already had.
“AVERY,” he screamed her name into her mind.
Shadows erupted around him, but it wasn’t him controlling them anymore.
The shadows, the ones that had obeyed him for years, started to slither around him, a golden thread inside them pulsing in time with their heartbeat.
His breathing became ragged, shoulders moving up and down as if he had scaled a mountain.
Never in his life had he been so powerless.
The shadows caressed him, like a lover’s kiss.
But what confused him was that if she had control, why not hurt him like he had hurt her?
Why not use them against him? Instead, they continued to encircle them, wrapping them in a blanket of power.
Worst of all, it felt safe. Instead of fighting, he gave in, letting her invade him like no one ever had.
He towered over her, close enough to see the pulse fluttering in her throat.
What little control remained was sliding into full collapse.
What was one more slip? His gaze dropped to her mouth, and he closed the distance.
Before their lips could meet, the connection severed. Avery’s eyes snapped open.
He didn’t move. “How did you do that, witch?” Felix tried to keep his voice controlled despite the tightness in his chest.
“I have no idea,” she whispered.
Frustration bubbled up through him, and he took a step back. Once again, he was left with a string of questions, stumbling around in the fucking dark like he was about to be blindfolded and fucked.
And at the center of it all was the witch. She was everything he couldn’t control, and that scared him more than anything.
Avery’s family didn’t say a word to each other as they ate.
The only sounds were the crackle of the fire and metal scraping on plates.
It was slightly depressing, to be honest. This is how they lived?
It was so different from what he was used to back at the den.
Every dinner was rowdy and full of laughter.
A pang of sadness went through him; as much as he liked being alone, he missed his den.
Candlelight flickered along the patterned wallpaper, thorned flowers twisting around different beasts. It was fitting for the family, except for his little witch.
Compared to Avery, her family looked like vipers sitting around the dark wooden table.
She looked nothing like them. Avery was innocent.
Doe eyes rounded and large, and her hair falling in soft brown waves.
Her family’s eyes, however, were deceptive.
Still blue, but a viciousness lurked on the edges.
Their bone structure was severe, black hair as straight as swords.
All three of them put his teeth on edge.
Felix remembered the matriarch’s name as soon as he saw her. Eleri Alarch, the High Councilor, had been in some of his mission briefings. Her posture was rigid, as if someone had shoved a fire poker up her ass and left it there.
Avery’s sister, Wren, was the same. They were dangerous creatures, the power rolling off them palpable enough that he could almost lick it.
Eleri had been pushing her witches into shifter territory, trying to find what, he wasn’t sure.
What was worse, though, she ignored him, seeing him as a regular familiar in his cat form.
He still wasn’t over how much it irritated him.
So instead of being a good familiar, he resorted to being as obnoxious as possible.
Felix sat within striking distance of Avery, close enough to intercept if anything happened. Like her own personal guard dog, well, guard cat. He also sat close enough to her food so that a few of his hairs made their way into her pumpkin soup. A small revenge for earlier, but a satisfying one.
Delicately, Eleri stabbed her braised chicken, each cut making his fur prickle.
It didn’t stop him from trying to steal a piece of chicken from Avery’s plate, though.
The food piled high on the table had his mouth watering, even though he had just eaten an hour ago.
Why was it always goddamn chicken that tempted him?
He wondered if Avery was made of chicken, and that’s why she was simply irresistible.
He pawed at the plate, trying to steal a piece and run away with it before Avery slapped his paw away. Rude.
“How dare you come between a man and his chicken?” he said into her mind.
“You’re not a man right now, are you?”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “Touché, witch.”
“Gwyn, darling, how are your studies?” Eleri said, her voice so cold it could have frosted the windows.
Gwyn practically glowed under the attention, blue eyes shining under the candlelight. “Exceptional, Mother. Professor Salin says I’m advancing faster than any student he’s had in decades.”
Avery choked mid-swallow while Gwyn sent her a scathing look.
“As I would expect, you’re well on your way to receiving the first familiar of your year,” she said, sporting a smile that withered toward her eyes. Then, her gaze slid to Avery, head tilting like a viper.
“And, Avery, how are things now that you finally have a familiar?”