What the Hell?
I took another step toward her, watching as her body went perfectly still. I resisted the urge to speak, keeping my voice silent because of the knowledge that she would recognize it. Even though I wanted to comfort her, to calm her racing heart, I knew that once I spoke, the game would be over.
And I so very much wanted to play.
The blindfold remained tightly fastened around her head despite her best efforts. I stepped up behind her, letting her feel the weight of my presence. She managed to get her feet beneath her once again, pressing up into her hands just slightly and taking some weight off her shoulders.
I rested a hand on her hip, my fingers gently stroking over the silken fabric as she stilled. It pleased me that she hadn’t chosen the lace nightgown, refusing to allow a stranger to take what was mine. It didn’t matter to me that I would have been the one to fuck her, despite her intent.
Her plan to give her body to another would have been enough to make me punish her.
I wanted her as obsessed with me as I was with her. It would be the perfect karma for the way she’d slithered beneath the surface of what made me, making herself at home in my soul.
Her breath raced, wheezing out of her lungs as she headed toward a full-blown panic attack. “Just get it over with,” she growled, trying even now to regain some of the control I’d taken. Her heart throbbed in tune with her words — pounding so hard and fast that I felt it in her hip.
I wrapped my hand around the front of her body, pressing my palm into the bare skin of her chest and feeling her pulse. Her heartbeat.
Her body shook, trembling with fear of that which she could not see.
In the time I’d known Willow, I had only seen her afraid in the moments when the Covenant threatened to put her into the deep sleep. Whatever had caused this fear, I vowed to learn the cause.
A woman like Willow was not meant to be afraid.
My other hand rose from her hip as I moved beside her, leaning into her arm as I trailed delicate fingers up her spine. I traced the addictive tree tattoo there, tickling over the trunk through the silk until the fabric ended. My touch shifted to bare skin, her warmth seeping inside me in spite of the distinctive chill to her.
She sighed, releasing a slow breath. Her next inhale shuddered, her lungs filling completely finally. Sweeping her hair to the side, I revealed a shoulder and her nape as I curved my body around to her back and removed my hand from her chest.
I buried my fingers in her hair, tugging her head back firmly as she gasped. I trailed my nose over her jaw for a moment, offering her a single moment of affection and trying to shove away the remnants of her panic.
Of the fear I didn’t understand.
She’d been fed from before. She’d given blood before.
None of it made sense, but I knew without a doubt I would do whatever it took to get to the bottom of it.
Using my hand in her hair, I guided her head to the side. Twisting it to give me a better angle to reach her neck. My breath wafted over her skin, sending a shiver through her body. My fangs trailed over her skin for a moment.
Taunting. Teasing.
I sunk them into her, the sweet taste of her covering my tongue. I drank as she went lax in my grip, moaning her pleasure.
Pleasure I wouldn’t allow her to reach when she thought I was someone else. I bit down harder, incapable of controlling my anger at her being aroused with someone else. This was the reminder I’d wanted.
All witches were the same, and only good for one thing.
The more of her blood filled me, the more I felt renewed.
Awakened, somehow, and I never wanted it to end.
The witch wrung her hands as she stepped into the open door. She reached up, knocking on the doorjamb as if I wasn’t already looking at her.
“You asked for me, Headmaster?” Della asked, her nerves pulsing off her.
“Close the door and take a seat, Miss Tethys,” I said, returning my attention to the paper in front of me. The conversation at hand would require delicacy, and I knew I needed to tread lightly if I wanted to have any chance of not revealing myself to the witches.
Only Susannah knew of my dominium over Willow and the fact that none of the others would be feeding on her until I relinquished my claim on her. I’d hoped to watch Willow squirm, to torment her and make her realize she wasn’t above feeling pleasure from the very creatures she hated.
I wanted to know if it was purely me who made her react so viscerally, or if she solely had a high sex drive and needed contact. “I want you to tell me about what happened last night.”
The witch took her seat, her face paling as she looked at her lap and continued to wring her hands. “I-I fulfilled my duty in the Reaping, Headmaster. I swear, I did what was expected of me.”