Page 28 of Oath of Revenge

“It’s really not,” Olive said, shaking her head but not looking up from her knitting. “With all magic, there are consequences. This is just the consequence of both of you ingesting the one plant. If I’d added it to my tea too, then we’d all be tied together.”

Scarlet’s eyes narrowed as she gasped. “You knew! You knew we’d be tied together! Grandma, why–”

“The dream,” Wulfric said quietly. “She keeps muttering about a dream.”

Scarlet looked from him to Olive who was nodding. “I can’t tell you about the dream right now. Not yet, but you both needed to be tied together until the full moon. Which direction you go from here is up to you.”

Scarlet’s chest ached as she tried to catch her breath. Olive had been doing this cryptic shit all her life. Why couldn’t she just bake cookies and heal hurts with magical kisses like other grandmas?

Olive put her knitting back in the basket beside her chair and stood, drawing Scarlet’s gaze. “Talk it over while you clean his wounds and check his bandages. I’m going to feed the animals in the barn.”

Olive grabbed her cloak by the door and slipped outside, boots crunching on the snow. Scarlet’s head spun from information overload. She scratched her now-shorter ear, her mind spinning.

With a frown, she turned to Wulfric. “If she says the magic binds us, there’s a fifty-fifty chance that she’s bluffing. We could try to separate and see what happens.”

His bushy wolf brows wiggled. “I’d rather you get closer. You heard her. Come check my bandages.”

She pursed her lips and stood. He wanted her to check the bandages? Fine, she’d check them. But he wasn’t going to like it.

Chapter 8

Wulfric grinned and sat forward on the chair. “Here you go. Now you can reach the edge of the wrapping.”

Scarlet sank to her knees in front of him, her eyes spitting fire. Anticipation licked his spine. He held his breath as she reached her arms around him, her fingers carefully not touching anything but the bandages.

He breathed in her scent, his nostrils flaring. She smelled of late summer sun, of the earth and grass. Her closeness did things to him, things he couldn’t resist. She was definitely his mate, and he felt like roaring in triumph.

Instead, he widened his legs and shifted to the edge of the chair, the blanket shifting on his lap and riding up.

Her lips pinched even as she sucked in a breath. The pounding of his pulse grew louder in his ears like a chant encouraging him to kiss her, claim her, fuck her.

She glanced up at him through those long, brown eyelashes, and he leaned forward. Then she jerked the bandages free, ripping flesh that had started to heal underneath. He gasped at the stab of pain along his left side.

The air rushed out of him under her ruthless hands as white spots appeared behind his eyes.

“Oh no, did that hurt? Oh, clumsy me.” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

He grinned through the pain, enjoying being at her mercy like some sort of sadistic love-sick puppy.

She rose on her knees to unwrap the bandage that now dangled from his ribs. Vision swimming, he did the only thing he knew would distract him from the pain.

He leaned forward, his mouth meeting hers. Such soft lips, like the petals of a flower. She froze and gasped. He swooped in, taking advantage of her open mouth. The touch of her tongue was like a brand. It ruined him for all others, and in that moment, he knew she was it. All he needed was right here.

Joy mixed with the pain, sweeping through his veins like wildfire. He ravished her, pouring everything he had into the kiss. Without words, he told her how he felt. She was his mate. This was inevitable.

He wanted to cherish her, love her, take care of her, worship every inch of her body. He wanted to know her, claim her, feel her openly and gladly accept him. He wanted to ravage and ruin her tight little body until she thought of nothing but him.

His chest tightened, and he shifted on the seat, the throbbing in his body moving lower between his legs. She didn’t move, like a deer frozen at the sight of a Growler. He angled his head, nibbling her lower lip softly and teasing his tongue inside. Yet, she still didn’t move, and he wanted her full participation.

“Open for me, bunny. Kiss the pain away,” he growled, desperate for her.

She shuddered at his words. He swirled his tongue around hers, and his free hand lifted to glide across her confined breasts.

She jerked back, sliding along the floor to slam into the other chair by the hearth. Knees pulled up in front of her, she looked at him wild-eyed, surprise making her face slack.

“What–what are you doing?”

Her fear wafted over him like a heat wave. He shifted on the chair and frowned with worry, disappointed at himself for scaring her. When he’d teased her before, she’d verbally sparred with him and held her own. But now, her fear swarmed his senses, mixing with the scent of her desire and anger.

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