Page 82 of Inflamed By an Incubus

“The gang’s all here.” Rosalind came to an abrupt halt and looked from Fenix to Evelyn. “And we’re somehow not all happy. What’s this about a warlock? You talking about that Crow?”

Fenix positively growled. “She did die. I wasn’t wrong. She died and he brought her back.”

“Wait.” Evelyn’s eyes widened. “So I’m like a zombie?”

“No one said the Z word.” Rosalind bustled over to her and patted her on the shoulder in a way Evelyn supposed was meant to be comforting but came off as awkward. The witch slid a look at the others. “Did we?”

Fenix rolled his eyes. “She’s not a zombie. Stop trying to make her think she’s a zombie. I swear, you’re nothing but trouble.”

Vail growled and flashed fangs at him and Fenix held his hands up beside his head. Rosalind sashayed over to the elf and wrapped both of her arms around his left one. She fluttered her lashes at him and he growled for a different reason as he dipped his head and captured her lips.

“I told you to stop winding your mate up,” Fenix snarled and paced away from Evelyn and her gaze tracked him as he ran his hands over his hair, frustration rolling off him in powerful waves that buffeted her. He muttered, “Gods, I’m starving.”

His gaze slid to her, swirling cerulean and gold, and then he huffed and pivoted on his heel and paced away from her. He took something from his pocket, lifted his hand to his mouth and then swallowed.

Heat spread down her spine to suffuse every inch of her and this time it wasn’t panic or fear making her temperature soar.

It was that look he had given her.

That wicked, heated look that made her toes curl and had an ache blooming inside her, a fierce need to have him cross the span of flagstones to her, sweep her into his arms and kiss her.

Which couldn’t be good.

He had said he couldn’t charm her, which meant this attraction she felt was real.

And intense.

“Those pills aren’t going to help. You need to find a nice woman to snog,” Rosalind said.

Everything was a blur as those words registered.

Suddenly Evelyn had the witch’s throat in her hand and was squeezing it hard as she glared down at the blonde, the fire that blazed through her blood so intense that she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel one emotion.

Rage.

The elf seized her shoulder and she turned on him, reacting in an instant, her other hand snapping around his wrist to rip his hand from her. The scent of burning flesh filled her nostrils as that rage blazed hotter still, had her burning up.

“Evelyn,” Fenix barked.

She came back to the world with a harsh bump, her eyes flying wide as she realised what she was doing. She released the elf and the witch and stumbled backwards, shaking her head as her brow furrowed.

“I—I didn’t—” Evelyn threw a look at Fenix as guilt swamped her, colliding with the shock that had her reeling.

“It’s okay.” He kept saying that and the more he said it, the more she felt it wasn’t okay.

“Something is wrong with me.” She strode away from everyone, unable to trust herself around them as the world pitched beneath her feet again and she felt sure that at any moment she was going to lose her balance.

She was going to break down.

Evelyn cast a glance over her shoulder at Fenix, some part of her needing to hear him tell her again that there wasn’t something wrong with her, that she was fine.

That she would be okay.

But it was the witch who spoke as she finished healing the wrist of her mate.

“I deserved that… but I guess now we know the mate instincts are alive and kicking inside her.”

It wasn’t a comfort.

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