Epilogue #2
Colter’s face tightened. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’ve got Tank and Marcus watching him right now, so he’s not a flight risk.”
Nessa tilted her head to the side. “Does he seem likely to bolt when he’s with you?”
She didn’t think he would, given how quickly he’d agreed to their version of ‘house arrest,’ but Angelo had surprised her on more than one occasion. She didn’t trust him. In truth, she wasn’t sure yet if she ever could. One day at a time …
“No. He’s just irritating. Did you know he drinks juice right from the damned container? It’s disgusting.”
“Colter,” Murphy interrupted. “What did you want to discuss?”
“Right.” Colter cracked his knuckles. “I did some digging, like you asked, to look into possible reasons Nessa could be immune to compulsion.”
“You found something?” Nessa leaned forward in her seat, the leather chair creaking as she moved.
“I did.” Colter pulled out a phone from his back pocket, unlocking the screen. “Finding out Angelo was similarly resistant to compulsion helped me narrow things down. Your grandfather moved to America from Siquijor, right?”
“Yeah.” Nessa tried not to wince at the way he’d butchered the word.
Siquijor was a smaller island in the Philippines, though she’d never been there.
However, she had heard all the stories. “My mom visited some of our extended family when she was a teenager, but as far as I know, none of them are alive anymore. It’s just me and Angelo left. ”
“I don’t have anything concrete,” Colter continued, “but there are rumors and stories all over the internet about shamans and mysticism within Siquijor. Apparently, the island is a hotbed of paranormal activity.”
Nessa furrowed her brow. “What are you implying?”
“He thinks you’re a witch,” Murphy breathed. “Or, at least, you’re a descendant of witches.”
A witch?!
Her jaw nearly fell to the floor.
“Exactly.” Colter handed Nessa his phone, the screen displaying an article about recent spiritual activity that had taken place on the island.
“I definitely think your ancestors were magic users, and while it’s gone unpracticed or been drastically diluted in your lineage for some time, you and Angelo both have nullifying abilities. ”
“Meaning …”
“You’re not just immune to compulsion. You’re immune to magic. Specifically, magic used against you. It’s a rare gift.”
Nessa stared at Colter in shock, unsure of how to respond. She was a freaking witch? The notion was laughable—she couldn’t cast spells! But there had to be a reason she couldn’t be compelled. A supernatural cause was as probable as any other.
But a witch … Wow.
“Thank you, Colter,” Murphy stated, clapping the male on the shoulder. “I appreciate everything you’ve done.”
Nessa glanced up between him and Colter in disbelief. They both seemed so calm about this. But then, of course, they were! They were fricken shifters!
“Do you want me to keep looking into other explanations?”
“Yes. Until we’re certain what’s caused this, I want all the information you can get me.”
Colter agreed, and then left the office, closing the door softly behind him.
Murphy turned to her then. “That was—”
“A lot? Crazy? Unfreakingbelievable? I agree.” Nessa jumped up from her seat, feeling suddenly jittery. “I didn’t expect him to tell us anything like that.”
“Me, either,” Murphy answered, pulling her into his arms. She went with him happily, relaxing her body against his. She’d never tire of being held like this, of feeling protected and cherished with so simple a touch. “Does it frighten you?”
“Hm?”
“Knowing you may be a supernatural creature, like me,” he clarified.
“Frighten me? No. I’m kind of irritated that I could have had some badass magic but instead I just have a ‘nullifying’ power.
With a ‘power’ like that, even if I am a witch, I’m pretty much still human.
That’s so lame.” She wrinkled her nose. “Shouldn’t you be able to smell the witchiness on me anyway? ” she added.
Did witches smell different from humans?
“The witchiness? I suppose it’s possible.” Murphy dropped his face into the hollow of her neck, inhaling loudly. “Don’t smell it here.” He moved to the other side, licking her mating mark. “Not here either.”
He lifted her off her feet, burying his face between her breasts as he sat her on his desk. He inhaled again, and then nipped at her breast through her shirt. She gasped, her panties dampening as arousal dripped from her center.
“Murphy, we have guests,” she admonished, her cheeks heating even as she arched her back in response. “They’ll hear us.”
“I need to be sure, Nes,” he answered, his voice muffled against her shirt. “Maybe I’ll find something further down,” he offered, grabbing her legs.
He spread her thighs open and dropped to his knees. Lifting her legs, he dropped them over his shoulders before planting his face between her thighs, uncaring of the denim blocking him from her pussy.
Murphy groaned appreciatively. “I can definitely scent something magical in this spot.”
“Oh, yeah?” Nessa asked dryly, torn between prying him off of her and encouraging him to continue.
Murphy looked up at her, humor and affection making his brown eyes appear lighter. “Why don’t I kick out our guests and I can spend the next few hours performing a thorough examination of your body?”
Nessa smiled, her heart full of such love, such contentment; she felt like she could shatter into a million fragments from the euphoria of it all. And if she did, she knew Murphy would piece her back together. She’d been blessed with a man who wasn’t just her soul mate, but her home.
Her everything.