She does.
The wolf longed to keep her there. To pin her down and claim her, mark her with my bite and with my scent and ensure no one goes near her. To lock her in the cave, pin her to our nest where she’ll be safe, warm, and content, and where Twilight Grove won’t touch her. He wanted to curl up with her, to strip her clothes so any warmth she’s feeling is from my body and the furs placed therefor herand not her clothing. I wanted her desire staining the pelts so even when she’s not inside, the space is marked as hers. A reminder to myself where she’ll always return to—who she belongs to.
But I did none of that.
After ordering her to her feet, her small steps trail me down the stretch to what I’ve been—admittingly—eager to show her because she’ll like it, being the water witch she is. The further we walk, the more humid the air grows until it’s damp and sticky.
“How does this place stay warm?”
Luckily, we’ve reached the low entrance, which is also the answer to her question. Ducking through the shoulder-height hole and into the other side, pausing on the platform ledge, she gasps.
“This is how.”
The grotto is filled with a pool of cerulean water that bubbles every so often. The cave ceiling is low and water drips from openings we’ve never quite figured out to the origins of. Steam rises from the water, balmy as a fire, penetrating every inch of the caves behind.
“How?” Excitement bubbles over until she’s bouncing on her toes, leaning forward. The water is clearly calling to her, little drops forming on the top of her hair.
Power.Pure, unadulterated power radiates. I’d never noticed before now. It’s misting all over her body. Maybe she’s strong enough to survive what’s coming. Strong enough to take on Dark witches.
When she walks so close to the edge I fear she’s in danger of tumbling in, her excitement being so strong, I hover in reaching distance.
“This is why these caves in particular were chosen. The steam helps warm them and make it habitable. We haven’t been able to track where exactly, but the spring does drain, which circulates the dirty water out.” I lean in closer to poke a finger into her chin, to force her head to turn and follow my trajectory to the slow trickling water stream by the very top. “Constant replenishment.”
“It’s amazing. Like magick. Nature at its finest.”
And probably another reason why a water witch was made my mate.
Her sweet scent, teasingly close, disappears when she drops to her knees and dips her hands into the warm water. First with a light breathy gasp, and then a near-moan that almost takes me out at my knees.
Fuck, she’s sexy.The wolf agrees but he isn’t behind the thought.
Her eyes flutter shut, and she dips her arm in deeper. Relaxation oozes from her before she drops onto her stomach. At what point, I wonder, will she just climb in entirely.
She cups the water and lifts her arms from the pool to let it pour back into the main body. Her happy noise makes me feel like I’m intruding on a private moment, but I also don’t dare go anywhere and leave what may fill my fantasy for the upcoming years without her.
“It’s so beautiful.” She twists her head and smiles the kind of smile that could destroy a man. The smile he’d walk over hot coals and later through a snowstorm for.
I’ll take her here every fucking day until Twilight Grove comes as long as she keeps smiling like that.
“You like it?” I pace around, getting a better view of the face I’m becoming addicted to. My question feels stupid, but the man inside needs validation; proof I’ve done one thing right by her.
“I love it. This is everything.”
Everything would be seeing her in the pool, water sliding down her hair, her body bare and wet and dripping for?—
She flips over onto her ass, removes her socks, and slides her feet into the water with a long groan that has me second guessing the possibility of not admitting the truth. She has no idea what her little noises are doing, and how dangerous it is to tempt a wolf, an animal who’d love nothing more but to sink his teeth into her neck, pin her between his body and the ground, and fuck his claim into her. If she did, she certainly wouldn’t be moaning like that.
“Goddess, that feels good.” Her pout has my cock twitching in my jeans, and her eyes slowly slide back open until coming to rest on me. She reaches up to tug on my hand, intermingling our fingers together. “Sit with me.”
The close ledge ensures she’s firmly pressed to my side. If I were to place my arm around her back, it’d be to deliberately hold her. Instead, my fingers knot together on my lap.
“If you have this place, why run all the way down the mountain for that pond?” She kicks her feet slowly through the spring, forming gentle waves. Much gentler than the crashing river her question sends racing through my blood. Given it’s where we met, it’s unsurprising we’ve come to this topic, but it doesn’t make it any easier to answer.
Of all people, it’s almost comical that mynîkâkîstisis the only one to know about that place. Dad probably suspects, but he never sent anyone to tail me, and even Xander doesn’t know where I disappear to all the time.
But she does. Fucking irony.
“It was my mom’s favourite spot. Something about that specific pond, she claimed, felt mystical. It’s where she and Dad met, so that’s probably her attachment, but it didn’t make it any less special to her.”
