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Bronywyn

Dressed in leggings and a t-shirt Tarnley pilfered from my house, I stare out at the city beyond his balcony. He’s somewhere inside, lingering in a room or office to avoid contact with me since I imagine I pissed him off with my declaration that his feelings for me are a direct result of the bond.

A bond that makes it damn near impossible for me to ignore the magic buzzing between us. Witches aren’t supposed to be able to mate. We can have multiple partners—as many loves of our lives as we want.

Thanks to unseen side effects of the bond I created with Tarnley all of those years ago, though, I’m tethered to him. Tied until either he dies, or I do. The thought brings a mental image into my head that I desperately try to shove out.

Him, neck crooked, falling to the ground of the cavern. The pain I’d felt in that moment, the bone-chilling, skin-slicing, stomach-churning agony when the bond had been briefly severed between us. Delaney’s hands are the ones that brought him back to life, but my magic pulsated between us. After he’d come back, I’d lost myself in research, trying to figure out why she’d been able to bring him back, but not her own mate.

And it all comes back to the bond. Every single conclusion I reached told me that our magical link is what pushed life back into Tarnley. Despite the fact that Cole is back, the guilt weighs me down. Maybe if I’d given her more power—if I’d tried harder—she could have brought him back that day, too, saving us all a lot of heartache and worry.

Saving the fae’s ability to dematerialize.

Soft footsteps on a throw rug behind me bring me back to the present. His scent invades my senses, and I inhale deeply, treating myself to the imaginary embrace I’d love nothing more than to lean back into.

If only.

“I just got off the phone with Cole,” he says.

“Oh?” I turn to him, leaning back against the balcony.

His eyes flash red as he watches me. I’ve often wondered what runs through his head when he sees me. Does he realize it’s the bond, as well? Or does all logic go out the window as it so often does with mate bonds?

I clear my throat. “What did he say?”

“They know where the auction is taking place. He’s going to text me the address.”

“Did you tell them I’m here?”

Twin crimson flames narrow on me. “No. You asked me not to.”

“Thank you.”

“What the hell is your end game here, Bronywyn?” Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he takes a step closer to me. “Are you planning on hiding out until everyone forgets about you? Because if that’s the case, it’s never going to happen.”

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“When we beat Lucy—which we will—I’m going to find a way to get rid of the dark magic.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then we’re going to find a way to safely sever the bond, and you’re going to kill me.”

Tarnley jumps back, an invisible force separating the two of us as my words settle into his mind. It’s something I’ve considered more than once at this point. If I am unstoppable, Tarnley can kill me. Light magic may not work, but his canines will do the trick.

“You expect me to kill you? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I can’t live as a dark witch, Tarnley. You told me yourself that you’re feeling the bond slipping, right? The difference between us? What do you think will happen if I don’t get this shadow magic out of me?” I stalk toward him. “It’s going to continue to eat away at the bond, corrupting it until there’s nothing left. And then, I’d be willing to bet the shadow will devour you, too.”

“So will killing you,” he growls. “Or did you forget that little piece of our puzzle?”

“Which is why we find a way to safely sever the bond.”

“Something you’ve been trying to do for two decades. You think you’ll magically find a solution now? After all this time?”


Tags: Jessica Wayne Dark Witch Chronicles Paranormal