8. Mirror Mirror
Erik
“Do you not worry about frightening her?”
I stormed through our home, pacing back and forth in a monstrous state. Ray sat on the bed, watching me, his expression unreadable. But while his face was passive, I could feel his emotions raging through our bond. His fear.
“You’re the one with a CNC kink,” I bit out.
He glowered. “As if you don’t have the same fucking kink, Erik.”
Well, he had a point. I glanced up at the clock on the wall again. It was well past midnight, and our human had yet to come home. It was very rare she came home so late, and there was nothing we could do. We were bound to this place, weren’t we?
Or . . .
“I want to go to her,” I said.
Ray’s brows lifted. “What do you mean? We are trapped—”
“Perhaps not.”
I crossed to the massive mirror that leaned against the wall. When I looked into it, I saw our forms, translucent. When we weren’t in her presence, we were far more faded. It was as if Christy grounded us to this realm.
And perhaps that meant we could leave.
If it was to go to her.
I stood before the mirror and closed my eyes, imagining her.
Thinking of the way she’d clenched around our cocks earlier and come undone for us.
After, we’d spent an hour holding her, kissing her, worshipping her.
Ray was already in love, which was no surprise.
Certainly between the two of us, he had the softer heart.
That she did not run away gave me hope.
But now I was worried about her. It was such a pesky emotion, worry. But I couldn’t help it.
So I stood before the mirror and called her to me. Or really, I threw myself toward her. Imagining her standing before me, reaching for her through the bond not yet formed, haunting her the way I had for so long.
I stepped into the mirror and when I opened my eyes, I was inside another. It was backstage, I realized. Christy stood there, her back to me, her posture stiff. There were people bustling around, and there was a man in front of her, yelling.
Rage seared me like a red-hot brand as Christy crossed her arms. That man was far too close to her. The way he looked at her—well, I’d killed men for far less.
“Christy,” I called.
Her spine straightened and she stepped back, glancing over her shoulder at the mirror. Her eyes widened with shock and then her attention snapped back to the man.
I could not hear what they were saying, and it was driving me mad. I strained against the mirror, but I was still trapped. I couldn’t do anything to help her, not while being bound by a curse.
Eventually he turned and stomped off. Her shoulders deflated, but she spun around to stare at the mirror. Her lips formed a word. How?
“Come home,” I demanded, making sure she understood me even though she could not hear me. “Now.”
I was pulled back through the mirror, back to my home. I gasped as I stumbled back.
“What happened?” Ray asked quickly.
“I want to commit murder is what happened,” I snarled.
It took about an hour before she made it home. Ray and I were waiting for her when she walked through her front door, and her exhaustion was so painfully clear.
“What the hell?” Christy asked. “How the hell did you show up in that mirror?”
I marched up to her, my brows furrowing. “Who was that man?”
“The stage manager.” She sighed and slumped back against the door, her gaze shifting between Ray and I.
He brought her a cup of hot tea, and she smiled.
“Thank you. Obviously rehearsal went longer than expected. We’ve just been having one issue after another with this one.
Jon is kind of a nightmare. And he’s an asshole. ”
“I can kill him,” I offered.
“No,” she laughed, taking a sip of her tea. “I need to make money. You can’t kill my boss.”
“We have plenty of money,” Ray said. “Perks of being alive for so long. You need not worry.”
Her brows lifted as he guided her to the couch.
She sat down on the middle cushion, and despite my frustration with the man who’d yelled at her, I smiled when Ray went to his knees and pulled off her shoes and socks.
Before she could protest, he started to massage her calves, her ankles, and the arches of her feet.
Christy immediately melted, holding her mug of tea, her eyes drifting shut.
“I have so many questions for the both of you,” she sighed. She took another sip of tea and hummed happily, her eyes still shut. “But I’m so tired. I think you guys wore me out.”
She’d be out like a light soon. I was certain of it. And that was for the best anyway.
I closed my eyes for a moment, decided I would handle her boss tomorrow, and then approached the couch. I carefully took the mug out of her hands before it spilled on her, and Ray let out a soft laugh when she started to snore.
“She’s exhausted,” he murmured.
“We should put her in bed,” I said.
He agreed and slid his arms beneath her, lifting her gently.
I put her mug away as he carried her to the bedroom and then joined them.
I lingered in the doorway, pressing my lips together as he tucked her in.
Without another word, he crawled into the bed next to her and patted the mattress on her other side.
It wasn’t enough, not really, for the three of us to rest. Not nearly as large as the bed we had in our space.
Part of me wished we could take her there instead but .
. . well, it would be complicated trying to take a human there, and possibly dangerous. So it wasn’t worth it.
I decided I didn’t want to sleep. I hardly need it anyway. Ray raised a brow as I took the chair in the room, placed it at the end of the bed, propped my feet up—and watched them like a phantom cuck.
It wasn’t long until both of them were fast asleep, which gave me the time to think.
We were running out of time. The curse had us in its grasp, and in just a couple days, Ray and I would truly be doomed if we did not complete the mating bond with Christy. And gods damn it all, I was impatient. I wanted to just make the bond and then figure everything else out later.
But it felt unfair.
Maybe she was softening me. I’d never considered something so much.
With Ray, it had been instant. Instant enough that it had ruined our lives in ways that perhaps we deserved. I was supposed to wed a witch and abandoned her at the altar for my lovely mate. Her revenge had trapped us both, binding us with invisible rusty chains that clanked with our desperation.
Was it right to convince her to bond with us? Was it manipulative if we knew it was fate? Was it right to tell her about the curse?
Ray insisted we didn’t. And I loved him. For as evil as I could be, he tempered me in ways that were indescribable. His love was a balm over the weathered cracks in my vile soul, and for that, I was not only grateful—I was reminded just how precious having a mate was.
We’d been together for centuries now, knowing we were waiting for one more. One more to join us. We didn’t know if they’d be human or monster, and we hadn’t cared.
All we cared about was being ready for them.
I was annoyed with myself for being so . . . mushy. Sentimental. It wasn’t like me, but perhaps stranger things had happened.
I desired her. I desired Ray. I desired their desire. To make a bond would not only end our curse, it would unite us all. Together we would solve all the other issues that could come up later .
The tip of my tongue pressed against one of my sharp teeth as I watched them dream.
Christy slept so deeply and Ray, well, he was curled up with his face pressed against the curve of her neck.
I knew he was breathing in her scent and that he would dream of her.
Of all the things he wanted to do to her.
I, too, had my own desires.
And now I had about seven hours to think about exactly how I was going to fuck both of them when they woke up in the morning.