Page 30 of The Blood Witch

“Rumors that you might be seeking the crown after all.”

“Alice!” Joy gasped, sounding shocked. Alice couldn’t bring herself to look at her, to see the outrage in her lover’s face. She held Fey’s stare, preferring the cold anger rising in Fey’s green eyes to the hurt she knew she would find in Joy’s.

“Fuck your crown,” Fey hissed. She took a step toward Alice, and this time Alice could feel that pulse of power, that delicious burn of Fire.

“Stop!” Joy stepped between them, putting her hand up to Fey’s chest. “Alice, apologize.”

“I said nothing that warrants a?—”

“Apologize,” Joy insisted, face whipping around to scowl at her.

“I…” Alice took a steading breath. “I’m sorry, sister. A little Demon has been putting thoughts in my head. I know… I know how you feel about being queen.”

Fey’s eyebrow rose.

“Kallista?” she asked, sounding surprised. “The shadow Demon made you think that?”

Alice nodded.

“Ignore her,” Fey said. She stepped back, turning away from Joy and Alice, and wiped the wet cloth over her face. That pulse of power dissipated, and Alice let out a shaky breath in relief. “She’s just trying to rile you up.”

“I think she’s scared,” Alice confessed.

Fey paused.

“Kallista is scared?” she repeated. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

“Tell me about it,” Alice muttered.

“Mind if I hop in your shower?” Fey asked, gesturing to the dried blood on her chin and chest. Sweat coated her body, most from her training session with Alice, but some from her lessons this morning. “I’d rather not walk home while looking like I got in a fight and lost.”

“Knock yourself out,” Alice said. “Your old room is empty. The shower is all yours.”

Fey gave her an appreciative grin and a wave on her way out, tossing the blood-soaked towel at the clothes bin near the door and missing. The blatant disrespect of it made Alice smile.

She missed this—missed living with Fey. She’d moved in with Alastair so gradually, Alice hadn’t really noticed it was happening until it was over. One day, her sister was just gone. She missed the days when they’d been parts of the same whole.

She missed Fey.

And sometimes… sometimes she worried Fey was growing into someone she didn’t recognize anymore.

Chapter 12

FEY

Ilove you, Witchling.

Fey replayed Alastair’s words over and over in her mind as she made her way home. Even on the thousandth repeat, they made her feel oddly warm inside. Made her walk a little more quickly, eager to see him. She’d stayed long enough at her sisters’ place that the sun had already set by the time she made her way down the familiar streets to their home. He’d be there by the time she arrived, awake and waiting for her.

They had the entire night head of them to spend with each other.

She couldn’t wait to get started.

Alastair must be feeling just as eager as she was because Fey had barely opened the door and stepped over the threshold when a pair of hands grabbed her, pulling her inside and pinning her against the wall.

A hard male body pressed against hers, and Fey laughed, tilting her face up to gaze up at him.

“Alastair, can’t you?—”

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