Chapter Twenty-One-Bella
After cleaning up Evie’s mess, I’d gone into autopilot.
Feed people, that’s what I did.
That’s what kept my hands moving and my brain from spinning out into the kind of places where I started questioning my life choices and relationships.
I managed to whip up a few goodies for the rest of us, plus a pot of tea and coffee for whoever wanted some—which, naturally, was everyone.
Feeding people was my love language, and I adored it when something I created made someone sigh and smile.
Safe. Predictable. Normal.
That was my lane.
I shook my head and sipped my tea, pushing the last half of my Bananas Foster donut across the plate toward my, well, I guess he was my boyfriend.
“Damn straight I’m your boyfriend,” Conrad growl-hissed against my lips, licking a smidge of cream I hadn’t realized was smeared on my cheek.
The man licked me.
Like I was both dessert and main course.
And my body?
Yeah, my body was absolutely here for it, tingles zipping down my spine, my magic doing that fizzy champagne-bubble thing it always did around him.
I took another bite, trying to regain some dignity, and—oh, fabulous—more cream.
This time it smeared across the corner of my mouth.
My giggles betrayed me before I could wipe it away, and Conrad just took my face in those big, gentle hands and kissed me clean.
Slow. Sweet. Intimate.
Oh, great.
Now my whole face probably looked like I’d been making out with a Bear who’d been in the custard jar.
I must look ridiculous.
Just a chubby Witch eating custard and making a mess of myself.
“Not to me, beautiful Bella.”
His voice went low and dangerous, his emerald eyes locking on mine.
“For the record, you have the perfect body, and watching you eat is like my favorite kind of porn, sweet Witch.”
My mouth dropped open.
Did he just—?
Was that—?
No. No no no no no.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
We were taking things slow.
We’d made a deal.
No mate-bond rush.
No losing myself before I was ready.
He said he was okay with it.
“At your pace, Sugar. I swear,” he rumbled, but there was a nervous edge to his voice.
His pupils narrowed, his tongue flicking like he was tasting my magic in the air.
My stomach dropped.
My chest went tight.
“What is it, Sugar?” he asked, brows furrowing like he could read every thought I was desperately trying to shove back into a locked vault.
And then—oh Goddess—his eyes widened.
Oh. Hell. No.
“Are you reading my mind?” I yelped.
Zap.
A mini mountain of hardtack exploded from my fingertips, raining down across the counter in a loud pitter-patter of magic-induced carbohydrate panic.
The smell of toasted flour and overbaked crackers filled the room like some kind of weird bakery crime scene.
My heart was racing so fast I thought it might just blast out of my ribcage, slap him across the face, and run off into the night without me.
I didn’t know whether I wanted to cry, kiss him, or shove him into the nearest bread oven.
Because this bond—this thing between us—it was happening without my permission.
Without me being ready.
And that felt like betrayal.
Betrayal by him for pushing too hard.
Betrayal by my own magic for answering him so easily.
Betrayal by my traitorous heart for wanting him anyway.
My emotions were all over the place, and my magic—oh, my magic—was just feeding off it, sparking along my skin, jittering like a hyper-caffeinated squirrel.
If I didn’t calm down soon, there’d be exploding pastries, and trust me, that was never as fun as it sounded.
Donny jumped.
Evie squeaked.
And I just stood there glaring at him like how dare you mind-snoop me after what we agreed on.
“Um. Ooopsss,” he whisper-hissed.
I kicked the crackers aside and turned on the man whose head had been buried between my thighs for the better part of two hours last night.
The nerve.
This was why I didn’t do relationships.
Because men couldn’t be trusted to respect boundaries.
Especially stupid sexy Snake men!
“Bella—”
“Uh-uh!” I jabbed a finger into his chest hard enough to make him sway back a step. “I told you—no mating! We are supposed to be going out. Keeping it light. That was the deal!”
“I can’t help it, Bella. You’re mine!” His voice was low, almost pleading.
“Sugar. please, try to understand. I’m trying to go slow for your sake, but I’m a Shifter. The matebond is already there. Surely you can feel it. You have to know how I feel about you.”
“Well, you already freaking announced it, but I thought that was just posturing!”
The worry in his eyes hit me like a cold wave.
He wasn’t angry.
He was scared.
Of what?
Of losing you, a voice sounded inside my head.
And that was the problem.
I didn’t know how to carry someone else’s feelings without dropping them. I barely managed my own without making a mess.
What happened when he decided I wasn’t enough?
Or when he decided he wanted to change me?
Nobody outside of family and my girls had ever loved me as-is.
No edits.
No if you’d just do this clauses.
No man had ever looked at me the way he did.
I had no map for this.
But it was all too fast, and I felt slightly betrayed at his going ahead and forming a bond with me without my knowledge or approval.
“That’s it. I need you to leave.”
His jaw worked, muscles tightening like he was holding back a thousand words.
“Please, Bella. Just hear me out.”
“I can’t. Not right now. Just go.”
“Come on, bro. Let’s give them some time,” Jaxson muttered from behind him, and I heard more than saw them leave.
The moment Conrad was gone, it felt like someone had ripped out a piece of my soul and taken it with him.
I sank onto one of the stools behind the counter and let the tears fall.
In seconds, there were arms around me—one smelling suspiciously like spinach and peanut butter (thanks, Evie)—and the three of us just sat there and cried.
Messy, hiccuppy, not-pretty tears.
“Why my Witchy cries?!” Petyr’s voice rang out a moment later. “I will destroy Shifter who did this!”
I glanced over to see him already chewing a fistful of hardtack like it was gourmet.
How the little gremlin could stomach it, I had no idea.
But hey—free cleanup crew.
“Oh, no. Petyr, I think maybe Bella is just having some feelings,” Evie tried to reason with my familiar.
I could have saved her the trouble. He was like a dog with a bone when it came to some things. Me crying was one of them.
“No! My Witch cries. The Snake dies!”
Then—zap! A jolt of magic zipped through the air leaving the three of us sneezing for thirty seconds after.
“Bella, you need to call him back—achoo!” Evie sneezed.
“What?” I sniffled, sitting up.
Too late—Petyr was gone.
“Uh-oh,” Donny murmured, swiping under her eyes with her sleeve. “I better tell Ryan to let Conrad know.”
“Don’t let that Snake know anything!” I barked, but my voice cracked halfway through.
“Honey,” Donny said, fixing me with her listen to Auntie Donny face, “your Domovyk is about to try and cut his ball sack off. Now, I know you’re mad at him but trust me—you want that ball sack right where it is.”
I gaped, then slumped.
“You’re right. Call him.”
“Honey?” Evie said, giving me that cautious tone people use when approaching a feral cat. “Can you tell us what just happened? We thought maybe it was a rocky start, but why are you fighting with your mate?”
“Will everyone please stop saying that? He is not my mate!”
The two of them exchanged a look—eyebrows up, lips pursed—and then the heifers started laughing.
“What is so funny?” I demanded, heat rushing up my neck.
“You,” Donny gasped between cackles. “You keep saying ‘he’s not my mate’ but it’s written all over your face, Hells Bells. You’ve got it bad.”
“She’s glowing,” Evie added helpfully. “Like, legit magical glow. You look like a lightning bug in love.”
“I do not glow!” I said, horrified.
“Uh-huh,” they chorused, smirking. “Sure you don’t.”