Chapter 3 #2
Kaden swallowed audibly, steadying his pace. His dick looked angry and she’d happily make things worse. “Eyes on me, baby.”
His dreamy gaze drifted her way, holding something like magic—the kind that promised escape. He bit his bottom lip while tugging on his dick. She clenched the bedsheets in one hand and her phone in the other, regretting her decision to lock eyes.
The seconds passed slowly until, finally, time was up. “Three … two … one.”
He dragged his hand away and slapped the floor. Veins pulsed along his shaft and his balls were so high she could barely see them. “Dammit, baby. I was so close.”
“Just one last thing.” She gestured to the clothes scattered around her room. “Pack all this in my suitcase; you know how much I hate folding.”
He shed a grin and pressed up to sit. Two snaps later, everything was packed. One hid them in his void and another spit them back out where he desired. It wasn’t real telekinesis, she supposed, but it was similar.
“Is that all?” he asked.
“Would you like to clean the floor with your tongue?”
“No baby, but I will …”
Between his submission and throbbing dick, she needed to cut this session short. It felt too familiar. “Then I want you to come for me.”
He stared beneath hooded lids. The deep blue wells of his eyes loomed beneath extra-dark lashes, daring her to peer in—to explore.
She resisted, lifting her chin. “Now.”
Kaden curled a hand around his shaft, beginning again. His movements were swift and certain until a loud gasp escaped him. His pelvis rocked as he trembled, finishing inside his fist. He let out a sated hum and lolled his head back. “I love you, Winn. So much.”
She half-smiled, pleased with herself. Phase one was in full swing. Hopping off the bed, she said, “You can use my shower.” The smell of his arousal was making her nauseous.
He found his footing, still clutching his cum-covered cock. “Aren’t you joining me?”
Winter stepped up to meet him, toying with her lower lip. It was time he cleaned up his own messes. “I just took one.” She lifted to her tippy toes and kissed him. “Be quick, I’m excited to leave.”
Kaden emerged from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Winter was tucking her glamoured wand into her top-knot. While it was usually slightly bent, rigid, made of birchwood, and ten-inches long, she’d gone with a knitting needle for the occasion. “Didn’t you bring a suitcase?” she asked.
“It’s in my void.” He snapped his fingers and disappeared.
When he reappeared, he was wearing a collared shirt, a beige topcoat, and loose matching slacks.
All that was missing was a cap made of herringbone tweed and a brass pocket watch.
“1918 will be a good home base, my fortune is stored there.” Of course it was, it was his time period.
“Agreed.” She’d gone along with his so-called plan the moment she learned he wanted to journey back seven hundred years again. “I can’t wait to travel through time with you.” And then leave you.
Rather than dressing to fit in like Kaden, Winter wore wool leggings, an oversized baby blue sweater with her university logo on it, and a white silk scarf.
He stepped up to her and took her hand. “Are you ready?”
She’d been waiting weeks for this moment. Most days had been spent crying, dreading the responsibilities to come, but she was as ready as she could be. Tarik could kill them both later. “I am.”
Kaden tapped his forehead against hers. “I’m the luckiest mage in all the realms.”
If lying to him was supposed to be easy, why was she feeling so guilty?
It seemed the closer she got to phase three—break up with him—the more her emotions got in the way.
Hurting Kaden wasn’t helping her relax, it was stressing her out.
She needed to say something truthful for her own sanity. “I’m the lucky one.”
Aside from his help with time traveling, the distracting proposal had changed the trajectory of her entire life. If she hadn’t accidentally unlocked that spell, whirling her into the past, she wouldn’t have learned the truth about her existence. She was a wolf.
With Westley’s pack guarding the archives, she wondered if she’d run into him again. She’d been wanting to yell at him for not teaching her how to shift back. But more than that, she missed his grumbling.
Kaden interrupted her day dream. “I’m going to get you to marry me one day if it’s the last thing I do, Winter Leroux.”
She grazed his chest with her freshly painted baby blue nails. “One day.”
He kissed her, managing to keep his tongue in his mouth for once, then pulled a small tin container from his pocket. It looked seven hundred years old.
“What is that?”
He handed it to her. “An old tobacco box.”
“But you don’t smoke.” Or had he lied about that too?
“Personal artifacts go beyond hair.”
Ah, yes. She recalled him yanking her strands out in his evil sister’s bed chamber. “Oh?”
“This was crafted in Elmwood Square. We’ll arrive inside the craftsman’s shop as long as I tailor the spell to the correct time frame.” He pulled out his mini dagger, the size of a small finger. “Are you ready? The object requires blood from all its travelers.”
“Yes.”
He sliced his palm then passed her the knife. Winter did the same, holding in a wince, then gave it back. He slipped it back in his pocket and held the top of the tobacco tin by the top. “Cup the bottom,” he said.
The moment her palm made contact, she felt a strange zinging sensation. Werewolf blood didn’t react well to any trace of silver. She would know, she’d poisoned her skin with it for years, stunting her ability to shift.
“Now, what?” she asked, desperate for this to end.
“The spell. I usually say it in my head, unless you’d like to hear it?”
Winter turned on her memorization skills. This was a treat she’d not been expecting. “Yes. Very much.”
Kaden cleared his throat and began.
A traveler flies
into the night,
for the same reason
a bird takes flight.
Instead of a heart
there is a clock.
It no longer beats,
but ticks and tocks.
Seven hundred years
into the past,
the time musketeers
shall fly at last.
That was the strangest spell she’d ever heard. Time travelers were known for being mad, but was it because their hearts had been replaced by whirring clocks? Were their brains held captive by their desires? She wasn’t a smith, however, she was certain something was irreparably broken inside Kaden.
When the mirror-like hole appeared behind him, she reached for her suitcase.