Visions of Magic

Chapter 27



Hours later, when hunger for actual food forced them out of bed, Shea staggered to the bathroom on wobbly legs. She had never been so completely worn out in her life. And she’d certainly never felt so damn good about it.

Every muscle ached, every square inch of her body had been licked and kissed and touched and explored. Her mind was awash with fresh memories of what she and Torin had done to each other over the last few hours and just remembering had her wanting to do it all over again.

When she stared at her reflection, she hardly recognized herself. Her green eyes were glittering. Her long red hair was snarled and tangled and looked as if it had grown two inches in length. How was that possible? She laughed and told herself, “Magic.”

It bubbled inside her, the power—growing and erupting. She felt the changes happening within her and gave herself up to them. Whatever came next, she would be ready for it.

Torin came into the bathroom and stood behind her at the mirror. One of his tanned hands slid up and down the front of her body and she leaned back into him as new desire quickened. God, would she ever have enough? Would she ever reach a point where she would be able to say, No, thanks, I have a headache? She didn’t think so. And did she want to reach that point?

No. She really didn’t.

She met his gaze in the mirror and saw those gray eyes swirling with passion and secrets. His mouth, that delectable, delicious, talented mouth of his, curved a little at the corners as he watched her reflection. He lifted his left hand to cup her breast and his thumb and forefinger tweaked her nipple.

“Seriously?” she said on a half groan, “I don’t know how we’ll ever get anything done if you keep touching me like that.”

“It has been centuries, Shea,” he whispered. “Hundreds of long, dark years while I’ve waited for this time with you. For the true mating. My hunger will not be quickly eased.”

She felt his erection rubbing against her behind, thick and hard and soft all at once, and her eyes slid closed as she parted her thighs for him. Again. And again. She would always open for him. Always welcome his touch, his invasion.

“Hold on to the counter,” he told her, “and open your eyes.”

She did, unable to help herself. She stared into the wide glass and watched as he took her. He hitched her hips higher to give him entrance and she leaned over the counter to make it easier for him.

He thrust home and she gasped with the erotic sensations swimming through her. He took her quickly, fiercely, one hand at her hip to steady her, one hand at her left breast, continuing to pull and tweak her nipple. Over and over, he pushed himself into her depths only to retreat and push forward again. He took her higher, faster than he had before and Shea watched it all happen in the mirror.

His features tight, his gaze locked on hers, he moved his hand from her hip to her core and the moment he touched her, she shuddered. Her body clenched around his and the rippling of her muscles tightened over him, holding him to her, forcing him to join her in another staggering release.

When she was leaning over the counter, struggling for air, he smoothed her hair back over her shoulder, and lifted her chin so that she was staring into the mirror at him. “Look, Shea. Look at your body and mine. See what is happening.”

She did and at first, couldn’t see what it was he wanted her to. Their reflections were blurred through her passion-glazed eyes, but at last she was able to focus. She looked at his hand on her breast and narrowed her gaze as his long fingers moved over a dark spot above her nipple.

“What is that?” She leaned closer to the mirror. Just over the dark pink areola of her breast, there was a bloodred mark. Elongated, with a slightly teardrop shape, it was almost like an oddly shaped birthmark, but she knew it wasn’t.

“The mating brand,” Torin told her, a satisfied tone to his voice.

She shifted her gaze to his. “A brand?”

He shrugged. “A tattoo of sorts, then. Our bodies, when mated, create this mark. I have a matching one.”

Shea turned around to face him and looked at his left nipple. The same dark red mark was there as well. Her fingertip stroked the edges of it. “What is it? It looks like a teardrop.”

Shaking his head, he bent to place a kiss on the mark above her breast. “It is a flame. A single flame to mark the beginning of the mating. Over the next month, the brand will grow and expand, marking each of us as belonging to the other.”

She belonged.

Finally, at last, she knew where she belonged. She’d spent her entire life trying to fit in. Trying not to be the square peg in the round hole and it had never worked. There was always something different about her. Even before her aunt had shown her that their family carried witchcraft in their bloodlines.

She took a breath and slowly released it.

“Over the next month?”

“Yes. The mating is slow, giving witch and Eternal time to enjoy each other and the changes that happen between us.”

She stroked one finger across his warm, muscled chest and smiled when he hissed in a breath at her touch. “Changes?”

“We will gain strength from each other, Shea.” His hands moved up and down her body as if he simply couldn’t touch her enough. “The brand begins it, linking our bodies and souls. As the thirty days pass, the brand will spread across our bodies and with each new flame that appears, the bond between us will be that much stronger.” He dipped his head to claim a quick, hard kiss. “When we touch, we will be able to combine our magic to increase our joined strength.”

“And when the thirty days are up?”

“My heart will beat and if Belen is pleased with me, I will gain more power.”

“What kind of power?” she asked, leaning into his hands.

“I don’t know,” Torin admitted. “The mating is something of a secret even to us. None of us knows what will be until it’s finished.”

“Your god didn’t give you many details.”

“What god does?” he asked, one corner of his luscious mouth curving upward. “The goddess Danu, your goddess, was no more generous with information.”

“Danu?” Shea shook her head and tried to think. But it was so hard with his hands on her.

“The Mother goddess,” he told her with a shrug. “She who created witchcraft and chose the women to wield it.”

“There is so much I don’t know,” she whispered, leaning her forehead against his chest, listening to the silence where there should have been a heartbeat.

“I will share with you everything I know,” he promised. “But for now, you must know we have only until the next full moon to complete our mission. To find what was once hidden and get it to safety.”

“What is it?”

“Black silver,” he said and those two words dropped like icy stones into the room.

Shea swayed unsteadily as images raced through her mind at his words. A dark element created by witches, she thought. Black silver was imbued with power that had grown quickly and completely out of control.

“The Artifact,” she whispered, not sure where that word had come from.

“Yes,” he said, stroking his fingertips along the side of her breast. “You remember?”

She shook her head, frowning as her mind turned away from the memory. “No. Not really. It’s just that when you said ‘black silver,’ I got a flash of something—but it was gone too soon for me to grab it.”

“You will,” he said. “You must.”

“Right.” She nodded and looked down to where his fingers stroked lazily over her newly born tattoo. “You said there were others, like me. Awakening witches. Will we all have this tattoo?”

“Yes,” he said, bending now to flick his tongue across the tip of her nipple. “And each branding will be unique to that witch and her Eternal. Each of you will be marked according to your karma.”

“And what about you?” she asked, struggling to hold on to her thoughts despite the fact that Torin had taken her nipple into his mouth. “What do the Eternals get from this, besides a matching tattoo?”

He stopped what he was doing, pulled his head back and blew a gentle stream of air at her breast. The dampness from his tongue, followed by his soft breath, caused a shiver of chill delight on her skin. “We become one with the other halves of our souls. We stop merely existing and begin to live.”

His tongue stroked the tip of her nipple and Shea sighed. So much had changed in her life so fast that it was almost impossible for her to imagine that it was her life anymore. She looked down at his mouth on her breast and sighed again as another tiny red flame erupted from inside to appear just beside the first of the branding.

She was part of something now.

Permanently.

There was no going back. There was no altering her decision even if she wanted to.

Already, Shea could feel herself changing. It wasn’t just the tattoo, burning itself into her skin. It was something more elemental. More basic.

As she accepted who and what she was, the woman she had tried so hard to be—the everyday, ordinary middle school science teacher—fell more to the wayside. She wasn’t ordinary.

And she wasn’t going to pretend she was, ever again.

Not even to herself.