WILLOW
Willow
I paused at the bottom of the stairs, glancing toward the
doorway in confusion as someone screamed.
The sound seemed to surround me, and I couldn’t place where it came from as I turned in a circle and looked all around me. There was no one to be found. All the students were locked away in their classes for the day.
“What the fuck?” I whispered to myself, wondering if I’d somehow found myself trapped in another vision. I glanced back up toward the library where I’d come from, wondering if I’d somehow imagined the entire moment with Iban.
Lucifer’s golden eyes stared down at me from the top of the railing, penetrating the darkness as something plummeted toward me.
Fuck.
I moved, racing into the center of the atrium. I recognized the clothing fluttering in the wind, even with Iban’s back facing me. He raced toward the stone floor faster than it seemed possible, setting frantic energy in my veins. I looked around for something to use, desperation driving me forward as Iban fell closer and closer to the ground. If he hit the stone at the bottom,
there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d survive.
Raising a foot, I stomped it down onto the stone in the same way Charlotte had when she’d buried my father alive. It cracked beneath my feet, allowing me to thrust my hands into the dirt underneath. Moss grew, spreading up from the earth in a frenzy as I pushed everything I had into that dirt.
It answered the call, creating a soft bed that Iban crashed into. He bounced off the surface, landing again with a thump and then bouncing off the side. His face smacked against the stone, the sound making me wince as I rounded the moss. It returned to the earth much more slowly, creeping back to the place I’d summoned it from. I knelt at Iban’s side, slowly turning him to his back and staring down at the blood seeping from his nose.
He pushed my hands away with a groan, sitting slowly as he stared at me. I glanced back up to see Gray glaring down at us, and there was no doubt in my mind that he hadn’t expected me to still be at the bottom of those stairs. I couldn’t explain what had made me pause, why I hadn’t immediately gone into the gardens.
Something had driven me to find Gray, and I’d assumed it was my own guilt over what I’d allowed to happen. I might not have chosen whatever lurked between Gray and me, but the thought of him kissing another woman made me murderous.
I could only imagine how he felt about what had transpired, and as he knocked on the railing twice and turned away, moving for the stairs, I had absolutely no doubt that he knew exactly what had transpired.
Fuck.
“Are you alright?” I asked Iban finally, turning my attention back to him.
He pushed to stand, cradling his broken nose. “I’ll be fine,” he said, moving his fingers around on his face.
“Let me,” I said, reaching for the moss on the ground. I grasped a handful of it, raising it toward his face.
“You’ve done enough,” Iban snapped, making me flinch back as I dropped the moss to the ground. As soon as it retreated beneath the stone, I drew a circle with my shoe and watched as the stone righted itself again.
“You knew what you were risking when you kissed me,” I said, raising my brow. Only a fool wouldn’t have believed that he’d incur the wrath of my husband when he touched me, and Iban was many things, but he wasn’t a complete idiot. He’d just thought he wouldn’t get caught.
Iban scoffed, dropping his hand. As his lip curved into a cruel grimace, a new drop of blood slid over his bottom lip. “Yeah, I just thought it would be worth it.”
He turned away, hefting his bag onto his shoulder. Thrusting a hand into it and rummaging around, his shoulders sagged in relief. That was the
confirmation I needed about the knife, at least. Heading for the family he knew would heal him without any complications that came with me doing it, he fled the scene. I brushed off the hurt from his words, as dickish as they might have been, understanding that they came from a place of fear and anger.
I’d said and done worse in my own pain and refusal to acknowledge it, but I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t admit the pettiest part of me hated the lack of appreciation for the fact that I’d saved his life.
That would come later, when he realized just how close to death he’d been and the adrenaline faded.
I turned on my heel, forgoing my journey to the gardens in favor of the confrontation that waited for me in the rooms Gray and I shared. As much as I might be trying to worm my way beneath his skin, this couldn’t go unanswered.
Students left their classes for the day as I walked toward Gray’s office and bedroom, passing them by and going in the opposite direction. He should have been teaching a class of his own until he agreed to a replacement, but his last period of the day had once been occupied by the new witches who’d been brought in this year.
Before he fucking slaughtered them.
My anger rose as I pushed open the door, finding him standing by the window with his whiskey in his hand. He’d stripped off his suit jacket, tossing it over the back of the sofa while he waited for me. Iban’s words affected me more than I wanted to admit. That hurt, combined with the way Gray had betrayed me and was now attempting to kill someone I considered a friend, was unacceptable regardless of the trigger event.
I slammed the door closed behind me, ambling fully into the room and crossing my arms over my chest. Gray turned his body to face me, quirking a brow in impatience. “Well? Let’s hear it then,” he said, the complete lack of remorse hitting me far worse than any argument he could have offered.
He didn’t care.
He hadn’t done it in anger or rage but made a cold, calculated decision. My arms dropped to my sides as I laughed in disbelief, shaking my head and turning for the bedroom.
I’d have understood his actions coming from betrayal. I’d have understood the rage and anger when he looked at me after what I’d done,
but this was different. This was just another step in some master plan I wasn’t privy to.
And I wanted no fucking part in it.
I went to the dresser, gathered an armful of clothes, and tossed them onto the bed. I then went to the closet, searching for a bag to shove them into as Gray blocked the doorway. “What are you doing, Witchling?”
“What does it look like? I’m not staying here any longer,” I called from the closet, returning to drop the bag on the bed. The clothes came unfolded as I grabbed them again, tossing them into the duffel bag as quickly as I could.
“Like hell, you’re not,” Gray argued, puffing up his chest as if to prove the point that he blocked the only door out. Jonathan scurried out of my messenger bag as I set it on the bed, scurrying into the living room like the coward he was.
“You tried to kill my friend,” I said, spinning to face him. “I knew you were a murderer, but I thought you’d at least spare the people I cared about after what you said in the woods that day.”
He tensed his jaw, squaring his body even further as he took a step toward me. “Do you kiss all your friends like that?”
“Maybe I do,” I said, leaning into his face. “What difference would it make if I did? Your compulsion means I can’t even fucking enjoy it, you asshole.”
Gray stilled for a moment, searching my face before he smiled broadly. His laughter was mocking as he closed the distance between us, stopping only when he filled my vision and obliterated everything but him. “You died, Love. I brought you back using my own blood and magic. There is no more compulsion.”
I stared up at him, my brow furrowing as I considered the unthinkable. “You’re lying.”
“My magic cannot work against you now because you have the same magic in your veins. They cancel each other out. You may not have enjoyed that boy’s kiss, but it wasn’t because I compelled you not to. It was because you’re just not interested in him,” Gray said, taking another step toward me. The length of his body pressed against mine, leaving me with no choice but to look up at him when he cupped my cheek. The gentleness he touched me with was such a direct opposition to how he must have handled Iban that it
made me wince. “You cannot be interested in him when I already have your heart.”
“You don’t,” I snapped, backing away and putting distance between us. “Only a monster would throw a man over the railing because he dared to kiss me. I’m not like you, and I will not waste my love on a man like that.”
“You’re my wife,” Gray said, twisting his head with frustration as he ran his tongue over his bottom teeth. “I will do whatever I please with anyone who touches you. Maybe it would be wise for you to take this as the warning it is and make sure it never happens again. But I will have you know I didn’t approach him with the intent to kill him. It was clear to me you didn’t enjoy it, and I was content to let your rejection be punishment enough.”
“Really?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “Because I find that very hard to believe.”
“I also knew you would likely find it difficult to forgive me for killing him on the spot, and I didn’t particularly care to deal with you pretending you didn’t want to be with me until you did,” he explained. I turned to sit on the edge of the bed, looking up at him in confusion.
“But you threw him over the railing,” I said, stating the obvious. It didn’t match up with his story.
“He might have mentioned that if he knew I cared for you, others would too. He said anyone with half a brain would put it together and use you as my weakness to get to me. He said I’d get you killed,” Gray explained, leaning against the dresser opposite the bed.
“Was he wrong?” I asked, staring up at the man who had somehow survived for centuries but had the emotional intelligence of a newborn who threw a fit anytime he didn’t get his way.
“I didn’t say that.”
“So you threw him over the railing because he said something you didn’t like? Even though it was true?” I asked, pulling open the drawer of the nightstand and shoving my phone charger into the duffel bag.
Gray shrugged, his smirk indicating he didn’t see anything wrong with his actions. “I’ve killed for less…”
The humor in his voice shouldn’t have made me laugh, but the twisted humor got to me. I covered my mouth with my hand to hide my smile, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach when I glanced over at Gray and saw the heartbreakingly beautiful smile that warmed his face.
Absolutely not. I would not fuck the murderer.
He stood, making his way toward me with a grin as I fought to sink back into my anger. I was still furious that he’d thought it was appropriate to kill anyone, let alone a friend of mine. The thought that it might be Della, Margot, or Nova next was what finally made the smile drift from my face, my anger returning as he stopped in front of me.
He slid his fingers beneath my chin, angling my face to stare up at him. “I think you like the idea of me being so consumed with jealousy that I would kill anyone for you, so let me make something very clear to you. I was willing to look past this once, but the next time? It won’t matter if he’s your friend or not, the next person you let touch you will die by my hand, and I will make sure he suffers.”
“Sometimes I think you want me to hate you,” I said, my voice heavy with warning as I pushed to my feet. I brushed past him, ignoring the way my body slid against his as I moved to get more clothing from the dresser.
“That’s because sometimes you need me to distract you from the emotions you aren’t ready to process yet, Witchling. You have to hate me right now, because we both know if you can forgive me for this, you can forgive me for anything,” he said.
I scoffed, shaking my head at his arrogance. “I don’t forgive you. I don’t forgive you for any of this,” I snapped, grabbing my duffel and messenger bag. I headed for the door, striding away from him with sure steps.
The worst part was that it was true, and he and I both knew it. This was unforgivable.
And I’d laughed.
Gray grabbed me by the arm, spinning me back to face him as the bags slid down to our feet. A burst of air erupted through the room as he moved me, slamming the door to our bedroom shut as his mouth slammed down on mine.
It was a brutal conquest, a possession, as he grabbed my cheeks in his hand and pried me open for his assault. I groaned, releasing the straps of my bags to shove at his chest. The distinct magic of air brushed over my skin, a strong breeze sending him back a step as he tilted his head to the side and stared at me.
I looked down at my hands in horror, the realization dawning on me as Gray grinned in pure, male satisfaction. He’d given me part of him: his blood, his magic.
The same as he’d given to the Covenant.
No matter that Susannah had been a Madizza, she possessed the magic of all the legacies so that she would be impartial to any one element.
“There’s my wicked little witch,” Gray said, taking a single step toward me. This time, when he reached for me, I met him halfway. My mouth crashed against his as I clawed at the fabric of his shirt and eventually tore through it with my nails.
Gray groaned when I scraped his skin, leaving red welts in my wake until I finally stripped it off him. He tore my shirt over my head, tossing it to the side as I unhooked my bra and let it fall to the floor. His mouth was on mine all over again, his hand buried in my hair as I fought with his belt buckle and unzipped his fly, not even caring enough to take his pants off him before I directed my attention to my own. I pushed them down, kicking off my boots and fighting to never let him take his mouth from mine.
He turned, gripping me by the hips and tossing me to the bed. I bounced once before settling on the pillows. Gray’s eyes on me warmed my body as he pulled my pants from my ankles, taking my underwear with them before he straddled my waist and pinned my hands beside my head. The roses I kept on my nightstand flourished, growing as a thorny vine spread from it.
There was just one problem. For once, I wasn’t the one in control. “Gray,” I whispered, turning my attention to him as he held me still. The
vine wrapped around the bed posts, pulling tight before they extended toward me and wrapped around my wrists. They positioned themselves carefully, nestling the threat of the thorns against my skin. I only felt the pinch of them when I shifted as Gray released his hold on me, leaning back to gaze down at me.
He stood, stripping off his pants and letting that warm gaze trail over my body. I felt it like a caress, the sweet brush of air ghosting over my skin coming directly from him. My nipples hardened against the cool breeze, the brush of it between my legs forcing me to pull them closed.
Gray chuckled as he slapped the top of my thighs, the sting making me jolt so that the thorns pierced my flesh. He smirked as he leaned over me, licking the blood from my skin with a groan.
I wondered if he missed it, or if he enjoyed not having the need for it. A man like Gray didn’t like to be dependent on anything or anyone. I knew it, for I didn’t either.
He grinned down at me wickedly, formulating his plan.
I was so fucked.
