Brewing Them

Chapter 49

Chapter 49

I stumbled back over the mattress behind and rose my head, staring up at him. An unusual sensation ran through my body and covered every inch of me. "What do you mean?" I asked, pressing my hand over the skin he had touched me.

It was cold.

Elijah looked at me with horror in his eyes. I hadn't seen him terrified yet, but now he was. "You don't have any magic. What is your game, Vivian?" He sounded threatened, by me.

"Nothing. I don't know." I shook my head, unable to understand what had happened. It was an odd feeling that rushed through me when he tried to take away part of my magic. But he failed.

Why did he fail?

His fists clenched and fell to his sides before he stepped forward and closer to me. He stood tall above, giant-like, with danger in his eyes. Crouching near to me, he leveled his stare with mine, still confused. "Don't ever think of doing that again," His voice held a hint of fear. "I'll not spare your life."

I tried to take some of the magic he held within himself. The spell came to me when Callan and Dion had taken me to the woods and allowed me to take magic from the dead witches they had killed. The rush, the feeling—it was exhilarating, and I thought taking magic from Elijah was going to weaken him, and I could use that against him, even if it was for a minute.

I heaved in quick breaths, my heart still racing in my chest. "Bring me my mother to me and I won't."

"You're in no position to make demands, especially after the stunt you tried pulling with me," He paused for a moment, and his pupils dilated. "I'm only going to ask you this once more. Who taught you magic?"

"I told you. No one."

"Don't lie to me," He fixed in front of me, standing close while his eyes glowered in confusion and anger. "Who taught you magic? Is it your mother? She's a witch, after all."

I shook my head, lowering my voice when I heard my mother being dragged into this conversation. "She didn't. She didn't know much of anything about witchcraft. I told you. No one taught me. Magic came to me, by itself."

"Who taught you to take magic from someone else?" He wasn't stopping and the feral expression on his face forced me to answer each and every one of his questions.

"No one," I blew out a breath. "Callan and Dion took me once to the woods. They had killed witches and they let me take their powers from them right after they died. The witches they killed practiced dark magic. It was the only time I did it." I quickly continued.

Elijah stepped back, groaning while his hand went to his face and his back turned to me. "Those fucking fools," He glanced through his shoulder and his gaze fell over me again. Taking slow, steady steps, he stopped in front of me, between my legs. "What is it about you—" He tried to figure out, "That has roped them both around your fingers in such a short span of time?"

My jaw clamped shut and I leaned back, not knowing the answer to it. He killed the distance between us, and placed his hand under my chin, gripping my throat. There wasn't much pressure, I could breathe, but only for shortly as he tightened his hold soon.

"I don't know..." I trailed off.

"Don't lie to me," His gaze fell on my face as he pulled me closer. His hands were cold at my throat, colder than Callan's. Unease crawled up my spine as I read the intentions in his eyes. Clear as the night. "What kind of sex spells were you using?"

He knew.

"Why should I tell you?" My smile widened as he came closer to knowing about the spells I had used to trap him and the others.

No matter what I tried, the spells couldn't be reversed. Nothing could break them. It created a string-like bond between me and the men I had spelled. I should've known better—but I didn't and this was the result of it.

"Your sex spells aren't going to work on me."

"Are you sure about that?" I stared at him and watched the panic fill his face as I asked him about the spell I had put on him.

As a practicing witch, he knew what was happening and what was going to be the outcome of the spell I had used. If he could've broken it, he would've never come here or hunted me down at the mating ball.

I raised my hand, trailing my finger down his cheek and over his stubble. "Or is it already working?"

His hand tightened around my wrist, but he didn't pry it off. My smile widened at his reaction—an outcome of the spell I had done on him. No matter how powerful he was, he couldn't break some spells. All of the nerve drained from his face and he didn't say anything, my question leaving him speechless.

"I used my blood," I whispered, nearing while my fingers still lingered over his face. "As a binding agent to create a tie between me and the four of you. And you know what strengthens the spell and brings me closer? My pleasure. The only way you can break the spell is by killing me."

My heart pounded as he grabbed a fist of my hair, and forced me to lean back.

I laughed a little while watching his rage surface and confusion appear in his darkened eyes. "I think it's working."

He tightened his grip on my hair, pulling me closer to him before slamming his mouth against mine in a furious kiss. I had to admit I was caught off guard by the sudden kiss, but I quickly found myself responding to it in the heat of the moment. Our tongues tangled as he pushed me down over the mattress. The towel covering my body slipped, but only a little. It didn't fall off entirely, not that I cared much about it.

He lowered himself over me while keeping my hands apart, on the side of my head where I couldn't move them.

Frustration laced in his every movement and his every breath. I took in a few scattered breaths as his mouth left mine. The heated desire remained in his eyes, growing as the seconds passed by. My heart thundered underneath him, in fear and in raw need. I couldn't understand either, but I knew for sure it was my own doing.

All of this.

His hands moved lower, tracing around the curves of my body while his mouth remained near to mine. I gasped against him, breathing heavily at the events that were unwrapped in front of me. My hand went against his chest and I pushed him down, over the bed, and sat over him, just a few inches above his heat.

My hair cascaded down my shoulders as I leaned over him and trailed my fingers across his jaw. My eyes followed the trail before I shut them and kissed him again, this time willingly. He groaned, grabbing the back of my head roughly and delving into the kiss. A few bruises formed on my lips as he tugged on them.

Pleasure coiled deep within me and as much as I tried to resist it, I couldn't.

I needed sanction.

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