Page 67

“Tell me what you need.”

“That. More of that. Pretty please.” I’d beg if I had to.

He circled my clit with his thumb while his cock drove steadily into me. Pleasure coiled low in my belly, tightening with every thrust. I clutched his shoulders as the bond opened wider, flooding me with his hunger, tenderness, and desperate disbelief that I had chosen him.

“Carolina,” he gasped, pressing his forehead to mine. “God, you feel so fucking good.”

“I feel everything.” I met each thrust, taking him deeper. “Every part of you.”

His hands found mine and pinned them above my head. The position gave him more leverage, and he used it. His hips struck mine harder, his control beginning to fracture as my body tightened around him.

The bond blazed between us.

This was more than ancient magic deciding we belonged together. This was desire, trust, and the love we had chosen despite everything it had cost us.

My climax broke through me without warning.

“Logan!” I cried his name as pleasure consumed every inch of my mind and soul. My body clenched around him, drawing him deeper while my magic exploded through the room. Gold and silver light raced across the walls and burst above us in a shower of sparks bright enough to turn the room to daylight.

Logan drove into me once more, his body tensing above mine as his control finally shattered. His pleasure surged through the bond, catching my fading climax and dragging it higher. The connection between us locked into place with a bright, breath-stealing certainty. It was no longer merely a path fate had opened. We had chosen it, completed it, and made it permanent.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Then his arms gave out, and he collapsed carefully against me with a breathless laugh.

“That was…” he began.

“Perfect,” I finished, running my fingers through his hair. “You’re perfect.”

He rolled onto his side and pulled me against him. I rested my head on his chest and listened to the impossible sound of his dead heart beating.

The curse was quiet. The bond was steady.

We had three days and a promise I didn’t trust my mother to keep.

“I don’t know what comes next,” he said quietly, his hand tracing patterns on my back. “Without your coven, without the coven’s magic...”

“We figure it out,” I said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Together. That’s all that matters.”

Logan pulled me closer, and the bond between us hummed with strength. Steady. Eternal. Unbreakable.

I was no longer the High Priestess’s heir.

I was exiled. I was loved. I was still entirely myself.

Freedom, I discovered, came with paperwork.

Audrey arrived the next afternoon carrying three folders, two coffees, and Muffin in a carrier because the cat had apparently filed an objection to being left at home.

“You need identification that isn’t tied to the coven, a bank account your mother can’t freeze, and somewhere to live that isn’t above a laundromat,” she said.

“What’s wrong with my apartment?” Logan asked.

A washing machine downstairs entered its spin cycle. The entire floor vibrated.

“Nothing,” Audrey said. “If you enjoy living inside an electric toothbrush.”

Muffin emerged from the carrier, inspected me, and immediately claimed my lap. Her black fur stood out against the sweatshirt I’d borrowed from Logan. Yesterday, I had been the heir to one of Arrhythmia’s most powerful covens. Today, I owned one overnight bag, a fraction of my former magic, and several pieces of Logan’s least flattering clothing.