The Coven's Source

Chapter Thirty-One

I stretched my body, arching like a cat as I woke from my nap, my body aching softly and a series of small loving bruises littered over my skin, marking where Grigore had devoured me savagely.

He surrounded me, his hand on my thigh as he remained close, his skin warm and body rigid in sleep. I smiled as I propped myself on my elbows, stirring my magic to touch his. Relief soared at the strength I felt in him, his taste so thick and his reserves full to bursting. He was healthy again, wounds gone and Cara's curse evaporated.

I pressed myself into him, rubbing my head of curls beneath his chin as my magic sang for him to wake. It was instant. His muscles flexed as he woke fluidly, his arms encircling me and pulling me into the wall of his chest all too willingly, his magic singing in response and tangling with mine.

'We should hunt, Grigore. We've napped long enough.' I said, kissing his warm skin.

He grunted in disagreement as he slipped his palm along my waist, tracing the feminine line possessively, before he rolled me onto my back. My breath caught as he loomed over me, muscles rippling as he pressed a knee to part my legs, his dark hair loose and tussled, his hooded gaze strengthening with focus as he drank me in, all signs of sleep vanishing swiftly as desire began to stir, thickening his manhood with stiff lust. Before I could speak, his mouth had found mine, tongue tasting mine, swallowing my moan as he drank a sliver of magic.

'I'd rather have you again.' He murmured huskily against my mouth, swelling his song inside me in an attempt to coax me to stay and ignite that easy fire for him.

'We have a hunt to do.' I breathed, touching his jaw softly as longing breathed through me, quickening my pulse and pooling heat in my blood. 'You said you wanted to see Miroslav's daughter today, and the day is getting old. You can have me later.'

He tightened his jaw, clearly annoyed, and swiftly kissed me again. 'Fine.' He growled. 'But only because Cara is becoming more of a problem.'

I opened my mouth, intending to inform him that was his own fault, but found my words failing and a soft keening moan slip out when his song strengthened savagely, phantom pleasure burning me with an arch of electricity pulsing through my body.

'I know, songbird.' He said darkly, his lips brushing mine lovingly. 'And so far, you've proved my judgement right.'

'That could still be proved wrong, Grigore.'

He grunted dismissively. 'I doubt it.' He said as he rose to his full height, stepping fluidly aside, his body rippling with quiet danger.

At first he watched me, as I in turn watched him, absorbing those rough lines of muscle, his broadness and the fierce masculinity etched over his entirety. His attention slipped over me, blazing over every curve, every inch of my bare skin, no matter how torn, before settling on my mouth. Hunger glimmered and I felt his magic tug at me seductively, whispering with heat.

Roughly he tugged his attention away, ruffling his dark hair with frustration. 'Get dressed.'

I was quick to obey. With no clothes to protect me from his touch and knowing my small body was drawing him to me so easily was making him that more alluring. I swallowed thickly and smothered my magic, urging it to behave as I slipped clothes over myself.

I cast a glance at Grigore as he became fixed on Ursus. The sword remained where we'd left it, covered in wards and seemingly harmless. He gripped the hilt and scabbard in his hands, tilting it, testing, before wrenching the blade free. The black skin of Ursus glimmered in the candlelight, no different to yesterday.

'It seems well.' He told me as I approached, pulling my belts tight about my waist.

'No dangers?'