I glare right back, with more bravado than I feel.
I can’t have a demon mate.
I’ve seen what happened to Allie, and then to Joan, to the handful of other Crescent witches who made their way into the demon realm and found their own mates.
And sure, they all seem happy enough with the way things shook out, all settled and cozy and peaceful. I’d even go far enough to say I’m a little jealous of them, in some ways, for all that peace and contentment.
But I’m not built the same.
I’m not built to be peaceful or settled or cozy.
I’m not built to have a mate.
Even if the potential mate in question looks like some kind of Nordic god with his big beard and his long hair and those wicked-looking scars. And even if, beneath all that frustrated bluster, there’s a spark in his eyes that looks like awe and shock and… wonder.
No. Not wonder. Definitely not wonder. Probably more like possession, ownership.
One more being who sees me as somethingrather than someone. A prize rather than a person. Who I am to him instead of who I am on my own.
A wave of horror rises in the back of my throat.
A mistake. All of this is a mistake.
“Mate.”
The word lands between us. A challenge. A gauntlet thrown.
“I’m not your mate.”
Callum takes a step forward. “Witch, even you must be able to feel—”
“I don’twanta mate.”
“And you think I do?” he growls, still advancing. “You think I want this any more than you do?”
Well now, that’s just rude.
Fair, but rude.
I take a few more steps back, keeping myself out of his reach. While I do, I slip a hand into my pocket, fingers closing around the vial I’ve got stashed away.
My escape plan.
“Good. Great, actually. It’s settled, and we can just—”
“Don’t.”
His harsh command cuts through the night air, and it’s not magick, but it’s… something.
Something that halts me in my tracks. Something that snaps my spine straight and sends a skittering pulse through my veins.
Callum advances on me, crimson eyes burning.
I pull the vial from my pocket. It’s filled with deep purple smoke, stoppered and ready to deploy at a moment’s notice.
Muttering the incantation Sylvia taught me under my breath, I flick the stopper and toss the vial toward him. It explodes into a violet plume, surrounding him as he lets out a harsh curse.
As the smoke dissipates, Callum’s frozen in place.
