Asher
Iknew she would break out of our wards sooner or later. Elsbeth’s eyes are wide as she assesses me before she says, “Just getting to know my enclosure.”
I make a “fair enough” face before stepping over to the edge of the smooth, gray stone-lined pool and slipping into it. I’m not stupid enough to keep my back to her, so the moment my feet hit the bottom, I turn around and cross my arms on the edge.
“You’re not going to escort me back upstairs?” She waves a hand lazily toward the door but doesn’t take her eyes off me.
“And get water all over the floor?”
“You’re more concerned with warped floorboards and not the person you kidnapped getting away?”
“They’re mahogany.”
She rolls her eyes but comes to stand a few steps away from me.
I push off the side, giving her space and purposefully not looking up the loose-fitting T-shirt she’s wearing.
I was supposed to return her now clean clothes to her this morning, but after talking Mads into getting into the car with Thorne, it slipped my mind. Maybe it will for a bit longer.
“I thought you were working on your term paper?” She crouches down, not bothering to fix the hem of her shirt as it hikes up her thighs.
“I needed a break.”
In the last twelve hours, I’ve almost forgotten that I’m not a stranger to her.
For the last two semesters, she’s studied my mannerisms in class and witnessed me in discussions, all while staying off my radar.
Maybe she’s magically gifted in concealment because how could I have not noticed this beautiful woman sooner?
By the way her eyes are tracking me now, there’s no way I would have overlooked her.
“Sure,” she says, sitting down on the edge of the heated pool and testing the temperature of the water with her toes before fully submerging her legs to her calves. “You must have a lot on your mind after committing a felony.”
Her deadpan tone doesn’t match the mischievous smile tugging on the corner of her lips, but if she needs to goad us to open up, I’ll let her.
“I’m sure our professor will understand my predicament.”
She kicks her feet in gentle circles. The water ebbs around her in rhythmic waves.
“Knowing him, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s let a privileged white student get away with murder as long as their grade didn’t suffer.”
“Sounds like you know him as well as you do the rest of us.”
She smiles at that and leans back on the heels of her hands without answering. I should leave and keep my distance while Thorne and Maddox are gone, but I don’t want to disturb the ease she’s found with me. Has she acted this way around Fox or Thorne?
The thin material of Thorne’s shirt stretches over her chest, not leaving much to my imagination. With every kick of her feet, the well-worn cotton inches up her thighs, and I can’t help my gaze from settling at the small space where silky skin meets fabric.
Her foot kicks up above the break, splashing me to bring me out of my trance. “You looked like you were overheating,” she teases as I wipe the water from my face.
“Something like that,” I reply into my hands, giving myself one more moment to reel in the building intrigue. “I should get back to work. Can’t miss that deadline or Doctor Rennick will have my head.”
“You really haven’t finished your term paper?” Her brows knit together.
I move through the water to stand in front of her. “I’ve been under some unexpected pressure this semester. I’ll get it done.”
“What sort of pressure would one of the precious legacies have?” The way she says our title feels like a curse and reminder. Of what, I can’t place, but out of curiosity, I indulge her.
“Being devoted to the cause you were born into and having no choice but to exceed everyone’s expectations is a lot to carry on our shoulders.” I take another step closer and she doesn’t recoil. “But you know that feeling yourself, don’t you?”
It’s a guess but not a farfetched one. The way her determination has carried her for months feels like me holding up a mirror to myself.
“Everyone has a monster they’re fighting,” she muses, her thighs pressing firmly together as I get closer.
“Some more than one.” She watches me carefully as the pressure of my fingertips settles on the inside of her knees. “As much as you mock it, the coven wouldn’t exist without the protection of the legacies. The four of us don’t have the type of control you think we do.”
Her knees part, giving slow inches of skin over to my fingers as I trail my touch up her inner thighs. “What do the most powerful witches in the world need to be protected from?”
She shifts so that my torso can settle against the warm cushion of her legs. I rest my hands on either side of her on the painted tiles, opening myself up to her fully. Our gazes meet at this new proximity, and I can feel her pulse quicken at my hips.
How long can I keep her like this?
She’s hanging on to my every word, and I find myself wishing I had poetry memorized to impress her with. I wonder how many of our professors she has wrapped around her finger. Probably every last one of them if she looks at them with half the interest she’s giving me.
There is something haunting about her. She’s like the ghost of a dream days after you’ve had it.
Subtle memories that you’re not sure are true or if they’re from whatever dimension you visit when your eyes are closed.
Ethereal and out of reach. But maybe I’m making that up to forgive my carelessness and slack on my observation skills.
She’s more beautiful up close, and I’m a shallow piece of shit to most of our peers.
Not being permitted to date outside the coven has given many people in our class the perception that I’m a playboy who goes through a new girl every week.
They’re not wrong. But they aren’t right either.
Fox is a constant reminder to not get too invested.
But wasn’t it Fox who said we need to get close to her to find out what she wants?
“You’d be able to tell me that better than anyone, wouldn’t you?”
A blush creeps up her neck.
“It takes a lot of magic and energy to keep our coven’s status,” I admit, giving her shoulders ease from the tension of my accusation.
“Our elders are growing feeble, and our younger generations need what feels like an endless supply to explore their budding abilities. Not to mention, we have to be prepared if another coven decides they no longer want to follow the common rules our kind established hundreds of years ago.”
“Prepared how?”
“I can’t speak for the others, but endurance has to be exercised. Otherwise I can lose myself to my own strength and desires.”
“What does strength have to do with desire?” she whispers, and I lift myself closer, bracing my arms on either side of her.
“Desire is one of the most powerful emotions we possess. More than the flames of anger. Giving into our fantasies and letting go of our corporeal selves gives us the freedom to indulge in our cravings without the care of repercussions.”
“Anger and hatred are just as powerful.”
“Watching your most hated rival writhe at your will is the same euphoric release you get while being ravaged and worshipped until your legs are quaking.”
“I-I guess that’s true.” Her breathy words stir my core.
Magic heats my damp skin as if preparing to unleash itself on her the same way I have other women: taking her to the edge of ecstasy and having her scream my name for hours. She’d look so pretty spent and panting beneath me.
My sight drifts low as my mouth invades her breath until I know she can feel the brush of my anticipation over her lips.
I watch in triumphant marvel as whatever line she’s drawn between us blurs.
Her eyelids hood. Her legs tentatively tense around my hips.
And finally her perfectly plush lips part for her tongue to wet them.
I’d stand to wager that if I edged closer, more than my swim trucks between us would be soaked. I take one last longing look at her mouth and know what I have to do.
“If you need any more truth, you know where to find me,” I tempt, and in a single splashing move, I push my lower half out of the water and get to my feet on the edge of the pool.
Her head whips up and the look of disappointment and embarrassment shoots daggers into me before she scrambles to her feet.
I grab my towel from the nearby chair and wrap it around my waist, hiding my glaringly obvious boner before she can wipe the water off her face. “Thanks for the insightful discussion. I needed it more than the swim.”
I hear her say “asshole” under her breath as I walk straight into the house without looking back.
Fox is waiting for me in the shadows of the long hallway.
“Tracking our prisoner?” I brush past him, shaking my head to send droplets of water flying toward him.
With a smooth flick of his index finger, my assault hangs motionless an inch from his face then drops to the floor.
“You could say that.” His words hang between us, but not loud enough to travel to any ears nearby.
I look beyond him to the white and blue lights refracting off the water onto the walls around us. How much time will she decide is enough before she comes back inside?
“Do you have any idea what she’s looking for?”
“Not a way out.” He pauses and looks over his shoulder as if she’ll come out and tell us herself. “She passed two of them to get into the natatorium.”
“Perhaps she was looking for a good time.” I wink at him and his eyes roll. “She wouldn’t be the first to tie herself to a metaphoric railroad to get our attention.”
Plenty of women outside of the coven have thrown themselves at us over the years. We were swimming in pussy through high school and undergrad. But when you’re young and told that your sexual hunger should be saved and savored for the grace of the old gods, you learn how to ignore temptations.
Elsbeth has made herself very hard to ignore.
“Are we the train in that scenario?”
I choke back a laugh. “Aren’t we?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose but shakes with silent laughter. “We’re so fucked.”
“I’ve been worst things.”
“You’re right. You’ve been a smartass your entire life.” He points a finger at me and follows me into the kitchen.
“And aren’t the three of you lucky to have to live with me forever.” I open the fridge and grab a protein shake to hold me over until lunch.
“At least until one of us gets married or Elsbeth kills us all. Whichever comes first.”
I swallow down several chalky gulps. Fox never talks about our impending expiration dates of bachelorhood.
As kids, he always questioned traditional marriage practices in our coven.
If it is the job of the legacies to bring through the wealth of magic, then why split us up into monogamous pairs for the sake of reproduction?
Now, though, we are grown men who can ultimately make their own choices, and that would mean the extinction of our entire coven.
So, like the dutiful legacies we are, we prepare for the day that our families present us to our betrotheds. At least then the popularity contest would rest until the next legacy generation is born.
I grab up a bag of potato chips on my way to the third floor. “I’ll be in the media room. Come get me if the engagement party arrives or Elsbeth finds a hatchet.”