Page 59 of Revenge is a Witch

“She didn’t notice your name on the mark,” he says with a forced chuckle. “Too busy being pissed about Eva.”

I snap, my voice harsher than I intend. “Do you really think I give a fuck about that right now, Seb? Why the hell would you just let this happen?”

He turns his head slightly, his eyes flicking up to meet mine with a familiar bravado. “Zaria, you don’t know how badly I want Kyla to suffer. If you think this is bad, you have no idea what I’m willing to endure to break her.”

His words are laced with a darkness I haven’t seen in him before, and I try to breathe through the anger and frustration boiling inside me. “Seb, what can I do? Just… tell me what I can do to make it better.” I can see a thought flash across his face. His lips twitch into a smirk, and I roll my eyes, already knowing what’s coming. “Yeah, I walked right into that one, didn’t I?”

“Sorry,” he mutters, though his grin widens just a little. “There is something. If you’re willing.”

“Anything,” I say, without hesitation, though there’s a nervous pit forming in my stomach. I just want to help him, and I’ll do whatever it takes.

He shifts, his bravado faltering for just a second. “The marks… they’ll heal in two days, maybe three. But the bruises, the pain—that lasts about five days. I’d prefer not to endure that if possible.”

I nod, thinking about all the ointments I’ve crafted in my Cauldron Concoctions class. “I’m not sure if the stuff I have works on vampires, but I can try—”

Sebastian shakes his head, cutting me off. “That’s not what I meant.” His gaze turns serious, a little hesitant, before hecontinues. “I’m only half vampire. I don’t need to live off blood… but it does make me heal faster. A lot faster.”

It clicks. I know what he’s asking. My heart skips a beat as I recall the last time I let him bite me, the intensity of it still fresh in my mind. But I don’t hesitate, not for him. “Whatever you need,” I whisper. “Just tell me what to do.”

Sebastian stands, his usual bravado tempered with something softer as he steps closer, his hand brushing my cheek. “You’re sure?” he asks, his voice lower now, almost vulnerable.

I nod. “I’m sure.”

Sebastian’s eyes darken with something that feels both intense and vulnerable as he steps closer to me. Before I can fully process what’s happening, he lifts me effortlessly by my thighs, his grip firm but gentle as he lays me down on the bed with a controlled urgency. I barely have time to react before his lips are on my neck, trailing soft, lingering kisses that make my pulse race.

As his kisses move lower, he pushes the hem of my dress up, his touch gentle but purposeful. My skin tingles under the warmth of his lips, especially when he reaches the bare skin of my stomach. My breath catches when he moves further down, his lips brushing the edge of my stockings where they stop halfway up my thighs. It’s a strange mix of tenderness and tension, like he’s savoring every inch, building a connection between us that goes beyond words.

When he reaches my thigh, just above where the stockings end, his mouth lingers for a moment. I feel a sudden, sharp warmth as his fangs graze my skin, sending a jolt of sensation through me. My hands instinctively find their way to his hair, gripping tightly, not out of fear but out of the overwhelming need to hold onto something solid in this moment. His bite is deliberate, controlled, and though the sting is there, it’s quickly replaced by a soothing warmth, like a wave washing over me.

The connection between us feels palpable, like something more than just physical. There’s a quiet intimacy in the way he drinks—no rush, no aggression, just a deep, unspoken bond that neither of us could have predicted. I can feel him healing with every second, the pain he carried earlier slowly melting away.

When he finally pulls back, his lips hover near the bite, his breath steady as he looks up at me. There’s something different in his expression—relief, maybe, or gratitude—but it’s soft, almost unguarded. The strain in his face has faded, and for the first time since he arrived, I can see him relax.

“Better?” I whisper, my voice barely audible, the words carrying more weight than I intended.

He nods, a small, genuine smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Much better,” he replies, his voice low and grateful. “You have no idea how much I needed that.”

I smile back, my heart still racing, but this time with a strange sense of calm beneath it. “Good. I didn’t want to see you like that.”

Sebastian leans down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before settling beside me. “I won’t forget this,” he murmurs, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, something that feels almost like a promise.

I lean into him, my body relaxing into his, feeling the warmth between us. Despite the chaos that brought us here, there’s a sense of peace in this moment, a quiet understanding that whatever comes next, we’ll face it together. And for the first time in a long while, I feel like I’m not carrying the weight of everything on my own.

Refreshed

Better Than A Shampoo Commercial

Sebastian’s head rests heavily in my lap, his breathing even and steady, the tension finally gone from his face. I glide my fingers through his hair, marveling at how someone so strong can look so vulnerable when he sleeps. The door to my dorm creaks open, and I glance up to see Derek slipping inside. The moment our eyes meet, I put a finger to my lips, silently telling him to keep it quiet.

Derek nods, ever the wolf who can read the room—well, most of the time. He slides onto the bed beside me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders. For a moment, we just sit there in silence, with Sebastian asleep on my lap, my fingers still tangled in his hair, and Derek beside me. It’s almost peaceful. Almost.

"How bad was it?" Derek asks in a low voice, his eyes flicking down to Seb's sleeping form.

I let out a breath, feeling the weight of the day’s events pressing on my chest. “Bad,” I whisper, trying not to wake Sebastian. “He had these lashes across his shoulders. I just—” Ishake my head, feeling the familiar spark of anger ignite. “I don’t care about the grimoire. I don’t care about exposing her. I just want this over. I want him away from her. He’s already endured too much.”

Derek’s expression tightens, his jaw clenching in that way that shows he’s angry but holding it back for my sake. “I get that. But you know him—he won’t stop until Kyla’s completely broken for what she’s done.”

I glance down at Sebastian, my heart heavy. It’s not fair. None of it is. I hate Kyla, not just for what she’s done to me, but for the hold she still has on him. “So, what do we do?” I mutter, my voice barely audible. “Keep playing this long game until she slips up?”

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