Page 25 of Their Witch Bride

So there’s nothing to envy right now.

It was never said that we wouldn’t grow attached to her, because the assumption was that we were marrying a vile witch and that our skin would burn before we ever thought to touch her. But faced with someone so delicate and so innocent, I’m wondering if we should have made another pact. Yes, it was agreed that we wouldn’t fuck her, but fucking her and liking her are two different things.

And Drogo will be cruel to her. I don’t like that.

My mind goes back to that night we’d been informed that all three of our fathers were in agreement that we’d be marrying this witch princess. We’d been angry. We’d felt helpless. It was a combination of losing our hope of finding our mate, the love of our lives, and being bound to an enemy for our lifetime at the same time.

When we’d made it back to Rinan’s room, Drogo had nearly shifted in rage before collapsing to his knees. He’d been breathing so hard and so fast we thought he’d pass out. Over and over again he’d repeated that he couldn’t marry a woman who might be responsible for killing his brothers.

He’d nearly sobbed, reminding us that they couldn’t even bring his brothers’ pieces home to be buried.

Rinan and I would have done anything in that moment to ease his suffering, so when he’d come up with the wild idea that we use the witch and throw her away after we were done with her, we’d been open to the idea. He’d said it was simple, we just agree not to fuck her. That’s all. So after we got what we needed from her, we could annul the marriage on the grounds that we hadn’t consummated it.

The plan had formed between us. Keep our dicks in our pants. Marry the woman. Bring honor to our fathers by sticking to their insane plan. And when the time came to be done with the marriage, we’d have an out that kept our honor intact.

It’d seemed so easy then. Somehow, it was starting to seem harder…

Rinan gives me a little wave.

I wave back, and then his eyes close.

Everyone in camp seems to be settling into sleep. There’s no fire to warm them. No soft bed. But they don’t need it, not when they’re this tired.

The few unlucky sentries remain alert around camp, keeping an eye out for a witch attack. Minutes slip away to hours, and my eyelids feel heavy. Sleep calls to me so deeply that I’m afraid that I’ll give in and break my word.

I agreed to watch over her. Even if she’s only sleeping. And I need to fulfill my promise.

She sighs, and her head slides from my shoulder, down to my chest, then onto my lap. Every muscle in my body tenses as she rubs her cheek against my cock, and it answers in full. Within seconds, her lips are pressed against the hard bulge of my length, and I feel all my blood rushing south.

I’m breathing hard. Rubbing my face with my hands, I glance to where Drogo is sleeping and feel relief that he’s out like a candle. If he saw me now, with our wife’s mouth pressed against my dick, he wouldn’t be happy.

At least I’m awake. Horrifyingly awake. Hard, uncomfortable, and desperate for release in a way I can never remember being before. I’m not a man who gives in easily to his desires, but this woman is a temptress. A siren.

Perhaps she’s even more dangerous than we imagined.

I glance down at her again. Is she really asleep? I watch her closely, and all signs point to that being the case. But if she’s trying to seduce me into her bed, she’s doing a fine job. If I were any other man, by now I would have undone my pants, pulled myself free, and found a warm home in her mouth.

But I’m not any other man. I’m Arlys Talon of Pack Talon, and I will not forget the oath I gave to my father to save our people from the witches, nor my oath to my best friends, to free us from this witch as soon as we can.

Lying beside the little witch, Princess Tara Stone, I remind myself over and over again that she is my wife in name only, and that I have no claims to that pretty little mouth of hers, no matter how much some treacherous part of me feels otherwise.

ELEVEN

Tara

We’ve been traveling for three days and few people have talked to me, outside of the servants who tend to my needs on our very brief stops. It’s strange. I was expecting cruelty. I was expecting some kind of attack. Instead, they’re just keeping an eye on me, usually from a distance.

And also like they’d rather be completely sleep-deprived than stay on witch lands for a second more than they have to.

I should be happy, but I feel like I’m being kept in a constant state of fear. I have no idea what to expect. These shifters could turn on me at any moment, so I just have to be ready at all times.

The sky darkens overhead. I look up to see the mountains towering over us. I’ve never been this close to the mountains that surround the Witch Kingdom. But I’ve heard a lot of stories about how much more dangerous it is to live near these mountains, near the Shifter Kingdom.

A shiver rolls down my spine, and I rub my hands on my arms. There’s murmuring from the men on horses in front of me, but I can’t tell what they’re saying, only that they’re uneasy.

My back’s rigid. Time ticks away. I don’t close the curtain, but I also don’t lean out. The last thing I want is for the shifters to know that I’m on alert.

I might be safer if they think I’m a dumb witch.

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