Gray nodded, shifting that thumb closer to me. It approached my mouth, but never touched. The deal with a demon had to be made with consent in mind, and he could do nothing until I was active in making it.
“My protection against the Covenant. I will make sure she cannot follow through on her intent to see you wed and bred as soon as possible without your explicit and voluntary agreement.”
My heart stopped beating, skipping in my chest as it squeezed. I had known my time here would be limited before they tried to do just that, but the way he made it sound…
“Have they already started discussing suitors?” I asked, turning my eyes away from him.
“I believe they started discussing them before you’d even arrived in Crystal Hollow. The moment they discovered your existence, you had one purpose to them,” he said, and even though I’d been ready for it, I couldn’t shake my disgust.
I was more than a womb.
“How will you protect me from that?” I asked. Even with the suspicion that he had more authority here than my mother had been aware, I didn’t think it extended that far.
“I have my ways. For now, all you need to do is trust that I will keep to my end of the bargain.”
“Does that protection extend to other things? Will you keep them from killing me if I piss them off too severely in the process of restoring the old ways?” I asked, pursing my lips. I couldn’t find the bones if I was dead.
“You are of no use to me dead. I have a vested interest in seeing you survive long enough to assist me, so yes. My protection will extend to other aspects of your life if I deem them dangerous to your body or your overall wellbeing, be that emotional, mental, or physical,” he said, staring down at the welling blood.
“And who is going to protect me from you?” I asked.
A grin consumed his face. He took a step closer, moving until his thumb was only a breath away from touching my lip.
“I’ve a feeling you’ll do just fine on your own, Witchling,” he said.
I grasped his wrist, guiding his hand away from my face. Leaning forward, I gave into the desire to lick the blood from his mouth. Drawing his bottom lip into my mouth, I ran my tongue over the surface until the sweet taste of apple covered my tongue. I drew back while his eyes were still half-shut, raising his hand to my mouth and sucking his thumb as deep as I could, consuming his blood and taking it as part of me.
His eyes opened as I drew back on his thumb slowly, releasing it finally as he leaned forward. The standard custom was for him to pierce my thumb the same way he had, but he mimicked my actions. His eyes held mine as his mouth lingered just a breath from mine, his teeth pinching my bottom lip pointedly until it bled. He groaned as he covered the wound with his mouth, sucking on the flesh and taking the blood he needed for the deal.
I was breathless by the time he pulled back, my eyes closed. I opened them to find his arrogant, steel eyes burning with desire, threads of magic laced through his irises like stars in the sky.
“I still don’t like you,” I muttered, stepping back as I tried to compose myself. I braced myself, keeping a damper on my emotions. With his blood fresh in me, he’d have greater access.
But not if I didn’t feel.
He grinned, a soft chuckle leaving him as he stepped around his desk. “And I still intend to fuck you, Witchling.”
“Then I guess we remain at odds in some ways,” I said, lifting my bag from the floor and placing it on my shoulder.
“But these odds are so much more fun,” he said.
I couldn’t help the hint of a smile that took me as I shook my head at him. Turning on my heel, I fled the office and the odd warm feeling climbing up my throat.
Just the blood, I reminded myself.
17
WILLOW
Susannah paced back and forth at the front of the room. In the days since I’d begun attending Hollow’s Grove, I’d learned to tune out the tipping and tapping of her bones on the floor. She’d taken to pretending I didn’t exist, and I suspected it was out of the knowledge that she didn’t know what might come out of my mouth at any given moment.
That might have had something to do with calling her an overconfident lesson in bone density when she’d insinuated that I wasn’t paying attention.
Sometimes the truth hurt.
“Where does magic come from?” she asked as she paced, her gaze scanning over the faces in our group.
I’d learned that the legacies attended classes together, dependent on age. That the small group of students who surrounded me in every one of my classes came from one of the original bloodlines. Most of them had survived the centuries without issue.