Chapter Twenty-Three-Conrad
My Python had been trying to tear me to shreds all damn day after I’d fucked up royally with my sweet Witch.
Every flicker of her magic I’d caught on the edge of my senses was like an itch I couldn’t scratch—tantalizing, teasing, reminding me exactly what I’d lost when she’d told me to take a walk.
But ever since she texted me—I think we should talk, snake man.
My beast had been losing his scaly little mind.
Coiling.
Stretching.
Hissing like we were on the verge of a fight.
Except this wasn’t fight-energy—it was want-her-now-or-I’ll-shred-you-from-the-inside energy.
I’d never intended to form a matebond without her permission. Hell, I’d promised her slow. I’d meant it.
But the Fates?
Those tricky, meddling, sadistic puppet masters?
They didn’t give a damn about permission.
They just snapped their cosmic fingers, tangled two souls together, and walked away like they hadn’t just lit someone’s life on fire.
Now, I was grateful to those all-powerful beings for gifting me with Maribella Strega.
Grateful, worshipful, the whole nine yards.
But come on—give a guy a chance to woo his woman.
Let me buy her flowers, cook her dinner, save her from a dumpster fire or two before throwing us into the deep end.
How was I supposed to court her properly and protect her if the bond kept tightening every time we so much as breathed in the same zip code?
I was starting to understand those old Shifter tales of mate raids back in the Viking and Clan days.
Find her.
Claim her.
Mark her so deep she couldn’t even think about another male without her body turning traitor.
If I could, I’d hoist my Sugar over my shoulder, carry her to my lair, and keep her there until she was so high on me she forgot her own name.
Might be cheating a bit, but a Snake had to do what a Snake had to do.
Luckily, my girl texted me before I could go completely unhinged and start drawing up blueprints for a romantic kidnapping.
Not ruling it out for later.
Just seeing how this goes first.
When she opened the bakery’s side door, flour-dusted and perfect in black capris and a pink top that clung to her curves like it had been sewn there by the Goddess herself, my Python went still.
Alert. Ready.
Possessive to the point my jaw ached from keeping my fangs sheathed.
And I swear to all the Old Gods and the New—if she’d told me to strip naked and slither through broken glass just to be near her, I’d have been halfway down the hallway already.
Instead, I kept my hands shoved in my jeans pockets, because one look at her soft, wary eyes told me I was already on thin ice.
“Hey, Sugar,” I said low, the word tasting like a promise.
She stepped aside.
“Come in. I got home a little while ago, but I made coffee.”
I would’ve drunk molten tar if she’d said it with that careful little voice.
Her place smelled like cinnamon and fresh bread.
Safe. Home.
My inner Python uncoiled, wanting to wrap her up until the rest of the damn world stopped existing.
I sat at her kitchen table, but my gaze followed her every move—how her ponytail swung when she poured the coffee, the way she bit her lip when she set my mug down like we were on opposite ends of some negotiation.
She sat across from me.
“So, I hear Petyr gave you his blessing to, um, court me.”
A chuckle rumbled from my chest.
“Yeah. Nearly broke my nose in the process, but I took it as a win.”
Her mouth twitched.
Half a smile, half a warning.
“You know I’ve been trying to come to a decision about us, and I know it’s been taking a while.”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table, voice low enough that it was just for her.
“You take all the time you need, Sugar. But here’s something you can’t decide and it’s this, Bella, I’m not going anywhere.”
“But what if—”
“No what ifs, Sugar. But how about we start small, okay? So, let’s just say I’m not going anywhere until whoever’s been targeting your bakery is caught. Not until you know, without a doubt, that I’ve got you. And not until you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t want me.”
Her breath hitched. She didn’t look away.
Didn’t tell me to leave again, and damn, I was glad for that.
The Python in me surged, the need to claim her coiling tight in my gut.
But she was human enough to be wary, Witch enough to fight me on instinct.
So I held the line. For now.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why me?”
That broke something open in my chest.
“Because I’ve been walking this earth a long damn time, Sugar. And no one—no one—has ever felt like home until you. You don’t change for me. You don’t shrink yourself. You burn brighter. And I’d fight every bastard in Castor’s Corner and beyond to keep it that way.”
Her fingers toyed with the handle of her mug, the pink in her cheeks deepening.
I knew then—pressure or not, arson or not—she wanted me here.
Which was perfect.
Because I wasn’t about to let her handle any of this alone.
I pulled a folder from my jacket and slid it across the table.
“Security cam stills. I’ve been tracking patterns—times, nights, even wind direction. Whoever’s behind this isn’t random. They’ve been watching you.”
Her brows drew together. “You’ve been keeping records?”
“Every move they’ve made,” I said. “And every move you’ve made since the night we met.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to scold me, but the flush on her throat told me she wasn’t exactly put off by the idea.
“I protect what’s mine, Bella,” I told her simply. “And you are mine. Whether you admit it yet or not.”
She stared at me for a long beat before her gaze dropped to the stills.
Then she sighed, shaking her head and fighting a grin.
“Two heads are better than one.”
The smile that pulled at my mouth was slow, certain.
“Damn right, Sugar.”
I reached across the table, took her hand, and didn’t let go.
Tonight, we’d talk strategy.
Tomorrow, we’d hunt.
And when this was over, she’d never doubt who she belonged to again.
But first.
I stood up and moved in close, close enough that the scent of her—warm sugar and fried dough with that hint of magic—wrapped around me like a spell I had no interest in breaking.
I took her hand and pulled her to her feet, so she was right there in front of me.
Sweet. Soft. Irresistible.
“I know you wanna take things slow, so I’m asking, should I stay, or do you want me to go?”
She blinked at me, that perfect pink mouth parting just slightly.
My hands itched to cup her face, but I kept them loose at my sides.
She was a skittish creature sometimes, my Bella—like a stray cat who wanted to be petted but wasn’t quite sure if the hand was safe yet.
Her gaze darted away, then back to mine.
“You’d really go if I said so?”
“If you told me to.” My voice came out rougher than I meant it to. “But you should know, I’d take my sweet damn time walking out that door.”
That earned me a little huff of laughter, and her shoulders relaxed. “You’re impossible.”
“No. I’m stubborn. And I’m yours.”
She swallowed, and that little flicker of doubt I’d been sensing from her—those walls she kept between us—wavered.
The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and coffee, the hiss and pop of the kettle settling down whispered in the air.
But all I could hear was her breathing. All I could smell was her sweet citrus scent.
She was everything. Everywhere.
I couldn’t help myself.
I reached out, brushed my knuckles down her cheek, slow enough she could lean away if she wanted.
She didn’t.
Thank the Goddess, she leaned into it.
“You’ve had enough people in your life walk away when things got complicated,” I murmured. “I’m not one of them. So unless you shove me out that door, Bella, I’m staying. I’m protecting you. And I’m going to keep proving to you that you’re it for me. My mate. My Witch.”
Her eyes shimmered—dammit, was that a tear?—but then she did the most Bella thing ever.
She sniffed, squared her shoulders, and muttered, “You’re lucky you’re hot.”
That broke me.
I laughed, low and relieved, and before she could come up with another smart-ass comment, I was kissing her.
Slow at first.
Testing.
My lips on hers, the faint taste of sugar and that last bite of Bananas Foster donut we’d shared earlier still lingering.
She sighed into me, her hands fisting in the front of my shirt, and just like that, the dam broke.
I pulled her against me, deepening the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers in a slow, claiming stroke.
Something popped somewhere behind us, but nothing in this world could’ve made me move.
Her magic prickled over my skin, little jolts of heat and light, as if her body was saying yes, yes, yes even if her stubborn brain wasn’t ready to admit it.
I backed her toward the counter, lifting her effortlessly to sit on the edge.
She wrapped her legs around my waist without hesitation, and I felt her melt against me.
“Conrad,” she whispered, her voice a mix of warning and want.
“I’ve got you, Bella.” I dragged my lips down her jaw, tasting the soft skin at her throat, breathing her in.
“Not going anywhere.”
Her head tipped back, giving me access, and my self-control frayed another inch.
My hands slid under her shirt, palms memorizing every inch of warm, soft skin.
She gasped when my thumbs brushed the underside of her breasts, arching into me.
“Just let me lock the door,” she whispered.
Her magic surged, a quick shimmer of power sealing us in.
The entire house hissed, and the walls hummed with energy.
In here, it was just us.
I came back to her mouth, kissing her hard this time, pouring every ounce of want and promise into it.
Her fingers tangled in my hair, nails scraping lightly against my scalp, and a low growl rumbled out of me.
Clothes went fast after that—her shirt over her head, my belt unbuckled, her leggings tugged down with a breathless laugh.
I slid my hands over her hips, pulling her to the very edge of the counter.
She was flushed, eyes bright with magic and need, and I knew I’d never get enough of her.
“Tell me to stop,” I murmured against her lips, even though I prayed she wouldn’t.
She shook her head, pulling me closer.
“Don’t you dare.”
That was all the permission I needed.
I slammed my lips to hers, right there in the warm, sugar-scented heart of her home.
My fingers gripped her thick thighs, and I pressed her knees wide, fitting my eager cock to her dripping entrance.
“Mine,” I hissed, thrusting my hips and pressing deep inside of her heated body.
So wet. So warm.
Her soft moans mixing with the hum of the earth.
Every touch, every kiss, was a promise—one I had no intention of ever breaking.
By the time we finally stilled, breathless and clinging to each other, the oven timer dinged.
Bella laughed against my chest. “Guess the muffins are done.”
“Let them wait,” I murmured, kissing her hair. “I can’t, Sugar. I need you again, now.”
“Then take me, Conrad. Take me, please.”
How could I turn down such an offer?
The answer was easy. I couldn’t.
And I never would.