I grasped the handle of the door to his bedroom, turning the knob and hauling it open in my haste to get away. I couldn’t breathe, the sudden suffocation of all my conflicting feelings hitting me straight in the chest.
My heart twisted, my breathing stalling. The door pulled out of my hand, slamming shut as I whirled to face the man who’d stepped out of the bathroom to find me attempting to flee. He’d stripped off his clothes, the lines of corded, well-trained muscle tensing and relaxing as he dropped the towel he’d used to dry his hair to the floor. Another towel was tied around his waist, and I swallowed as I pressed my back into the door behind me.
“Going somewhere, love?” he asked, taking slow, measured steps toward me. Even with the predatory way he watched me, he dropped his outstretched hand to his side.
“How did you do that?” I asked, my eyes widening in realization. We were still alone in the room, no sign of any witches I hadn’t seen before to close the door.
He smiled slowly, his fangs gleaming at the corner of his mouth. “One of the reasons the Covenant decided we could no longer pair bond with witches was because of the addiction it created and the secret relationships it encouraged between our kinds,” he said, reiterating the words Iban had told me before. “But that wasn’t the only reason.”
“Why else did they end the pair bonds?” I asked, swallowing as he finally reached me.
He pushed a wet strand of hair back from where it had plastered itself to my face, staring down at me intently. “Because if a Vessel feeds from the same witch repeatedly, if it is that one witch’s blood exclusively that flows through veins, we get the magic that goes with it. Not the same as the witch possesses, but enough for little tricks.”
“But during the Reaping…” I sighed, my brow twisting with confusion. He’d fed on someone else then, while another Vessel took my blood for his dinner.
“You think I would allow anyone but me to touch you?” he asked, chuckling as he slid his hand to my nape. He trailed his fingers over the tree there, the touch so similar to the man who’d fed from me that realization dawned.
“You asshole!” I shrieked, placing my hands on his chest and shoving him back.
The cold malice of his laughter spread through the room, raising the hair on my arms as he leaned away from me and grasped my chin between two fingers. “Careful, love. You just might come close to admitting you wanted it to be me.”
“Fuck you,” I rasped, slumping against the door. I’d been panicking, struggling with my feelings for him, and he’d been playing games with me the entire time.
“You’re so focused on the Reaping that you haven’t even stopped to consider the greater concern, have you?” he asked, leaning down to touch his mouth to mine. He paused there, steely eyes staring at me as his fang touched my lip when he smirked. “I can feel your magic flowing through me—even the faintest whisper of what you cannot touch.”
I froze, my body going still as I stared up at him in horror. I swallowed as he wrapped his palm around the front of my throat—shoving me into the door and pinning me there. I struggled against his grasp, the terror clawing at me making me frantic as I scratched his arms with my nails.
“Gray, please—”
He reached up, wiping a terrified tear from my face and ignoring the way I fought against him.
“I’ve known exactly what you are for quite some time, Witchling.”
31
WILLOW
I couldn’t breathe. Even though his grip wasn’t tight on my throat, there was no air in my lungs. I stretched out with my magic in a panic, reaching for the trees outside the windows.
“No,” Gray said, the simple command rocking through me as he forced me to hold his gaze. The compulsion slithered inside me, shutting down the flow of magic where it began.
“Just kill me and get it over with then,” I wheezed, sinking my nails into his skin. His blood welled beneath them, staining my fingertips. He tipped his head to the side as he bared his teeth at me, but there was no force behind the gesture.
If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought he liked it when I bled him.
“If I wanted you dead, I’d have killed you already,” he said, leaning forward to rub his nose against the length of mine. The affection of that moment while he held me pinned to the door was too much, shoving past that horrible numbness that had spread at the realization that I’d been doomed before I ever even began.
I would never stand a chance at finding the bones now.