Lorcan & Evette

Chapter Ten

Returning to the bed, he had to grin to himself. His mate was attracted to him- immensely so- whether she cared to admit it or not. She was covered in his seed, washing off the proof of their encounter right now by the sounds of it. He would've loved to empty in her mouth. He knew where else he'd love to have emptied even more.

Yes, in the end, it hadn't matter how above him she'd claimed to be. Her body had responded in the way it was supposed to. She'd been turned on. And when push came to shove, she hadn't been able to help herself.

He scented the air.

The bed smelt like her.

In a day, he'd come to learn that everything sexual was supercharged with his mate. Every feeling was that little bit stronger. If she pissed him off, rage. If she made him happy, elation. Although there hadn't been much of the latter. Judging by the state of her bedroom, it was mostly rage.

He tugged on his boxers. With nothing else here, they'd have to make a quick dash to a clothes store on the way. Evette wouldn't mind. She wouldn't get a choice.

He took her phone and made himself comfortable on the bed. The witch didn't even have a passcode. It was like she wanted him to snoop. He'd do so gladly.

The first place he went to was her missed calls, at which point he picked up on the name 'Adam Wilson'. The witch couldn't have liked him that much if she had him saved under his full name. But it wouldn't matter now. She was never going to see him again. Block. He proceeded to block most of the men on her phone, especially after dubbing them all human.

She'd cut out all of their world by the looks of it. There were names he should've recognised in the phone of such an infamous witch. Annaliese, for starters. If the witch Queen wasn't in there, then Evette had taken her thirty human years seriously.

He scrolled through her photos. She looked happy in some, though he sensed her smiles were rarely ever genuine. Her life with these people had been a constant lie and a constant failure. No wonder she always looked so alone.

No more.

She wouldn't be alone any longer. So yes she was a witch but she was also his. That meant keeping her by his side was now- unfortunately- his responsibility. His eternal presence was something she'd have to get used to.

It'd take him time to adjust to the whole witch in his bed thing but he'd be damned before he let someone else in it. He'd spoil the witch rotten— maybe gifts could buy her loyalty— or at least her faithfulness.

She hadn't had a family at any point. It was common knowledge- again- that Evette had been raised at Castle Solum. So what happened to her parents?

He had ten questions. Why not ask?

Deciding she'd been in the shower for too long anyway, he rose once more and threw her phone down on the bed. He didn't care if she saw it. What was hers was his anyway.

That was the way of the mate world. She wouldn't keep secrets from him. What was his was hers.

At the door, he twisted the lock open with his claw. The bathroom was steamy. She stood in front of the mirror, a short towel wrapped around her body.

He could slit that towel right now and have his merry way with her...

"Hurry this up witch. It's an early start tomorrow."

She was already back to cursing him, her pride hurt. "Look, I get this is a hostage situation, and I don't get a choice in any of this, but would five minutes of privacy be too much to ask for?"

"You don't have privacy from me."

"Charming."

She saw his gaze darken, hazel eyes raking up the length of her legs and thighs. She didn't have it in her to scoff.