“Your flesh is weak. See how it craves to be satisfied? We can give that to you as well as your magic on a silver platter. My mate is very skilled. It will be a pleasure like you have never known.”
“What is happening to me?” I breathe, feeling my formless body react to some unseen stimuli. The ache inside me grows lusty—needy—as I try to fight against it.
“It is the tea taking full effect,” she says, her voice growing closer and more urgent. “The moon is at its high point. Stop resisting. Let me in.”
“I said no!”
“Defiant child,” she tuts. “My mate would be pleased to make love to this body. If you disappoint him, you disappoint me. And that means no magic for you.”
“I don’t care. Choose someone else,” I say, my voice sounding breathy and unlike my own.
“Very well, young witch. But do not call upon our names for favor. We will not listen.” A gentle wind blows against me, and suddenly, I find myself back in my body.
My eyes are reluctant to open. I stretch out where I lay, a familiar thrum of pleasure coursing through me. Looking around, I see that there are a little less than half the bodies as before, spread out in peaceful sleep. The High Priest has gone,and all that remains of the cauldron's fire are a few simmering coals.
My body begins to steer before my mind can catch up. I rise from the ground and step out into the chilled night air in nothing but the thin sheath. My bare feet pad onto the grass, and the sensation feels decadent. Moonlight washes over me as I tip my head back, my long hair tickling the backs of my arms.
My eyes close as I smell something familiar. A campfire.
Jace.
I don’t see him, but that scent is driving mecrazy.
“Serena?” ?*
I turn slowly, expecting Jace, but instead find Zadyn leaning against the mouth of the cave, his body half-bathed in dying firelight. My stomach tightens as I take in his beautiful face. The warmth of his brown eyes, his tall, lean-muscled form, his large hands. I start to wonder what those hands would feel like on my waist, my neck, my ass. I want to know what they feel like on me, all over me. His eyebrows knit together as he takes a tentative step forward like he’s approaching a wild animal.
And that’s exactly what I feel like when I surge forward and push him roughly against the rock.
His breath leaves him as he hits the solid surface, and I marvel at my sudden show of strength. His eyes widen in similar surprise as I press myself against him demandingly. There’s no mistaking what I want as my hand works its way up his smooth chest, pinning him back as he tries to lift off the rock.
“Serena, is that you?” he asks breathlessly.
“Who else would it be?” I whisper, my hands roaming over his shoulders, his arms, up his neck. His throatbobs as he swallows.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
“I’m alright,” I purr, shaking my head. “But I could be better.”
He stares down at me, worry in his eyes. His big hands come to rest on my shoulders.
“Serena, stop,” he says gently. “It’s the tea. It’s making you react this way. You don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing. What I want.” I push forward again, my breasts pressing against him. He lets out a tight sigh as his hands slide to my waist. When I think he’s about to pull me flush against him, he pushes me back, holding me away from him by the hips.
“I promise you, you don’t,” he says firmly. I stand there, locked in a stare-down with him, nothing but the sound of our breath and the low crackle of fire for miles. The strap of my shift slides down my shoulder, and his gaze tracks the motion, helpless as a moth to a flame. I smirk in satisfaction, knowing that a little skin is all it takes to drive a male—human or fae—to their animal instincts. I watch him intently as I slowly lift my hand to the other strap and slide it down. He bites his lip as he watches. His head gives the slightest shake when he notices that my peaked breasts are the only thing keeping the thin material from pooling around my waist.
I take the opportunity to rest my hands over his and slowly guide them upward from my hips.
“Touch me,” I say softly.
He shakes his head and closes his eyes, trying to hold onto some semblance of restraint. I can feel it thinning, like a tether about to snap. I just have to push a little farther…
“Don’t you want to?” I tease. My palms press against the rock as I lean in and plant the smallest kiss in the place where his neck meets his shoulder. A shudder racks through his body as I close the distance between us, pressing my legs, my hips,into his. I start to move slowly, giggling at the frustrated sigh he heaves.
“Serena.”
“Jace is right. I don’t think you know how to say no to me.” I lick the column of his neck from the base up, stopping just below his ear lobe. He tastes and smells amazing. “Because I don’t think you want to.”
