Bewitched

CHAPTER 23

The next several hours blur by as I chat and drink with Kane. By the time the two of us move to the dance floor, magic has thickened the air, the various colors of it swirling and blending. I breathe it in, the power calling to my own magic, demanding I let go of my inhibitions.

This is one of the aspects of witchery they don’t talk about that often. The wild, nearly frenzied nature of our magic that exposes itself when we gather under a night sky.

I can feel that primordial need for release as I dance with Kane. My clothes feel too heavy and constricting, and I have the urge to strip myself of them. I need…more.

Empress…I hear your call…

My blood heats at the sound of Memnon’s voice in my head, and my need rises. I don’t know when I went from dreading the sorcerer to having this reaction.

I mean to look for Memnon, but my eyes catch on Kane as his nostrils flare, like he scents something. A moment later he cups my cheek on the dance floor, our sweaty bodies sliding against each other.

He stares down at me, and again, I see the lupine glint of his eyes. He leans into my neck, ru

His mouth skims along my jaw before he pulls away. He looks into my eyes for a long second, and then slowly, he leans in once more, his eyes dipping to my lips, giving me plenty of time to back out.

I don’t.

His lips brush against mine, and then dancing turns into kissing. I’m unable to stop—my mouth likes the taste of his far too much to stop. Something about it tugs at me, like an itch I can’t quite scratch, and that only makes me fall deeper into the kiss, chasing that elusive sensation.

I don’t know how long we stand there, making out instead of dancing, before Kane lifts me to carry me off the dance floor and then out of the cabin altogether.

Without really looking, I sense that most of the party has already moved out here. Lycans have paired up with witches and one another; somewhere between alcohol, magic, and instinct, the evening turned carnal.

Kane only puts me down so he can press me against a tree, his hands coming back up to cup my face. I close my eyes as he kisses me roughly, and the dominance, the power, it’s stoking a memory…

I open my eyes and frown when Kane’s features don’t align with what I expected.

A love like ours defies everything… I am yours forever…

The phantom words tease out a shiver before I force them away, falling back into the kiss.

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

My hands are moving all over him, and I take a moment to appreciate his muscles through the fabric of his shirt before my fingers dip beneath its hem and run over the rigid planes of his chest.

Kane groans into my mouth, pressing himself deeper into me, and there’s no missing the rigid length of his shaft. Now it’s his turn to touch, his hands moving up my sides, his thumb skimming my breasts.

I moan. An ache grows between my thighs, one I don’t want to resist.

I need…I need…

Little witch, your voice is so pretty when it makes its demands…

I gasp at Memnon’s voice in my head, my core clenching for some perverse reason.

Kane grinds against me, and my mind is a mess—is it the shifter or the sorcerer working me to a fever pitch?

I peer over Kane’s shoulder, looking for…I’m not sure exactly what. My eyes sweep over our surroundings, and I notice just how many other revelers have paired up with each other. I hear heavy breathing and sounds that would make me blush if I were sober. Even now, I see couples and small groups disappearing into the deep night.

Maybe it’s not the men at all—maybe it’s simply the intoxicating combo of booze and magic.

Whatever the cause, I’m flush with desire. But our surroundings…

My grip tightens on Kane, and he pauses to see what has me tensing.

“What’s wrong?” he says, his voice husky.

I swallow. “Witches have been killed in these woods…” Slipping off into the forest right now is a supremely bad idea.

“None of my pack will let any harm come to your coven sisters.”

Unless, of course, a lycanthrope is the one killing them off. The body I saw was brutally torn open.

I squeeze my eyes shut against that thought.

“Hey, you okay?” Kane asks, tipping my chin up with his hand.

I nod, maybe a little too fast, before I open my eyes. “Do you want to get out of here?” I ask.

I’m not above shooting my shot with Kane, even when I’m hearing Memnon in my head and panicking about these woods.

Kane’s wolf peers out from the back of his eyes. “Yeah, I do.”

My heart pounds hard in my chest. Goddess, this is really happening. I’m taking my high school crush home with me.

I take his hand and start leading him away from the party. Then I hesitate. “I came here with a friend, and I was pla

“Then let’s grab her,” Kane says.

I don’t actually know if Sybil wants to go with me at all, but luckily, I spot her across the clearing, making out with a shifter.

“Just a sec,” I say to Kane. “I’ll be right back.”

I head over to Sybil, a little hesitant to interrupt what looks to be a very heavy make-out session.

“Sybil,” I whisper.

No reaction.

“Sybil,” I whisper louder.

Still nothing.

“Sybil!” I finally shout.

My friend pauses, dragging her face away from the lycan’s. “Hey, Selene,” she says, trying to pull herself together.

“I was going to take Kane back to the house, but I didn’t want to leave you,” I say.

“Leave me,” she insists, her eyes hazy with booze and desire. “I’ll be fine. Sawyer here has promised to walk me home.” She smiles and winks at him. Sawyer looks surprised but thrilled at the prospect.

I hesitate. I don’t want to be awkward here, but—

“That wasn’t the plan.”

“Forget the plan.”

Still, I’m unsure.

She sighs. “Babe, I say this with all the love in the world, but don’t cockblock me. I want this.” Her eyes flick over my shoulder, and she smiles broadly. “And I will definitely not cockblock you either.”

Before I can glance over my shoulder, a warm hand falls to my waist, and I feel Kane’s heat at my back. If I were any less intoxicated, I’d be embarrassed that Kane overheard Sybil’s words. Instead, I lean into the shifter at my back, my need still building.

“Hey there,” Sybil says to him, giving Kane a tiny wave.

“I don’t want to leave you,” I insist.

“I trust Sawyer with my life,” Kane says, jumping into the conversation. “He won’t let anything happen to your friend.” To Sawyer, Kane adds, “Walk her home at the end of the night.” Those words are accompanied by a burst of shifter magic. It brushes my skin and bends the soft light out here before settling on Sawyer’s shoulders.

I don’t know much about pack hierarchy and dynamics, but I think I just witnessed a bit of the power play involved.

“Kane, man,” Sawyer says, “you know you don’t have to tell me.”

I think I’ve been given all the reassurances I can. Still, I don’t like leaving my friend out here regardless. Sybil must see it on my face because she pulls me in for a tight hug and whispers in my ear, “Babe, go screw the brains out of that man. I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow. Promise.”

She releases me, then pushes me into Kane, who catches me by the upper arms. To further drive home the fact I’ve been excused, Sybil drags Sawyer’s mouth back down to hers.

All right, message received loud and clear.

I turn from her, and Kane is there, his eyes shining a little too brightly.

“You’d fit right into the pack, you know,” he says, as we move toward the outskirts of the clearing.

“What do you mean?” I ask, threading my fingers through his.

“Pack doesn’t leave their own behind. You were ready to drag her out of there, and even with all our reassurances, I can still scent your worry.”

He can scent what now?

Shit, what else has he been smelling over the past few hours?

I redirect my thoughts back on topic.

“Sybil’s my best friend,” I say as we leave the clearing, the trees looming around us. “She’s always been there for me. I’d give my life for that girl.”

That wolfish glint is back in Kane’s eyes, watching me like he’s tracking my every movement. “Like I said, you’d fit right in with the pack.”

I’m somehow both flattered and u

Lycanthropes have been known to lay a claiming bite on witches out late in these woods.

“Where did you want to go?” Kane says, interrupting my thoughts.

Right. We hadn’t decided on that.

“My place,” I say, leading Kane along by his hand.

Three steps later, I nearly twist my ankle when I step on a branch wrong.

Freaking heels.

Kane catches me before I go down and reels me in close.

“You okay?”

I swallow and nod at him.

“Good.” He smiles and leans in a little closer. “I’m pretty good at giving piggyback rides—if you’re interested.”

I’m a witch, a symbol of revolutionary feminism. I don’t need a man to carry me, or coddle me, or worry over—

“Hell. Yes.”

Kane lifts me and swings me onto his back and, ah, provides some relief for the poor, aching balls of my feet.

“Hold on,” Kane says, and then he runs.

I yelp, nearly falling off at first. I wrap my arms around Kane’s neck and then laugh and laugh.

This is ridiculously fun. Kane is going to get so laid. So laid.

“Someone’s eager,” I whisper into his hair, wrapping one of his sandy curls around my finger.

“Can you blame me?” he says over his shoulder. “I want to get back to kissing those lips.”

“It’s not fair to be hot and have good game,” I whisper back into his ear. I follow it with a brush of my lips.

Before he can answer, we pass a naked couple. I yelp when I see a witch who lives down the hall from me getting railed by a lycanthrope.

“Oh my—titties!” I meant to say goddess, but I sort of just said what I saw instead.

Beneath me, I hear Kane’s booming laugh.

We see another couple and another, each one in various states of ecstasy.

Kane slows briefly partway to campus.

“Why are you slowing?”

Kane points to a nearby standing stone. “These mark the boundary between coven lands and pack lands.”