The Wolf's Blood Witch B1✅

7. I Swept my Tongue

Kaitlin

Poker.

Fae play poker.

Who knew?

I shuffled between tables and let my eyes dart around, avoiding the questioning glances I was getting. These fae either knew who I was or they've never seen a witch before. That or I likely reeked of werewolf blood. 

Maybe I shouldn't have skipped a shower before coming here.

Screw that.

The burger, fries and shake had been worth it.

I felt a small tug from the white frosted strand and marvelled at the warmth before freezing it fully once more. Sethan must be feeling better. Very pissy from the feeling of it. 

I spotted Irial.

He looked different, taller, with pointer ears and his hair shined a darker shade of green, but his eyes were the same bottomless dark orbs I had glared down when I originally met him. He'd been trying to kill Javier back then too. 

As luck would have it, the seat to his right was open. I sat next to him at the rounded table after setting my bet down in advance, and got dealt in while holding in a sigh. There goes my rent... 

Irial's eyes skimmed over me but he said nothing.

"Not a fan of wolves?" I cackled as he glared. 

Irial didn't answer as his fingers fidgeted with one of his chips. His ego had been obviously bruised by killing the wrong person but he managed to keep it in. From what I had been hearing when I walked in, he was playing it off like he'd meant to target Sethan. We waited as Irial raised his bet and tapped the table with his long pointed fingernails. They had looked trimmed when I had gotten there.

"I told you he's off limits." I said to fill the air. 

"I didn't know he was your puppy." Irial spoke, willingly deciding to pretend I'd been talking about Sethan rather than Javier. 

I decided to go for the nagging approach. His condensing response indicated that he didn't suspect I was here to kill him. "He doesn't remember." I reminded him, referring to Javier.

"Not my problem." Irial smiled as the dealer took half of what I'd made on the wyvren earlier today. His guard had almost completely dropped. Had he won just now, I could've struck him.  

"But I do." I hissed, letting my anger out a bit heavily to remind him that I'd warned him not to. 

Irial had lasted but a few months. I glared at him as the dealer took his money as well. The old man at the other side of the table had crushed us. Irial ignored me once more. 

The good thing about being a witch was most species, especially the fae, underestimated us. They believed they were nearly untouchable. The wolves at least saw us as a threat, the fae saw us as vermin, the vampires saw us as food and that was all fine by me. 

I was practically a hermit. 

If hermits enjoyed killing things. 

His stupidity was going to make what I was about to do a lot easier. 

"The wolf is alive?" The old man asked.

The air around us shifted as the others in the room pieced together what the old man had. The bloodlust that hadn't been there before lit up like a flame and bared down around my shoulders like an invisible heavy weight from up above pushing me down. I managed to sit upright in my chair as the bloodlust seeped into me. Other witches would've had trouble pulling on their powers in this situation, but me, I absorbed their bloodlust. Not in the way Devlin fed on negative emotions, absorbing them as if they were nutrients, no, rather their bloodlust slowly became and added to mine.