Page 26 of Ivory's Familiars

She was stunningly, outrageously beautiful.

His hand rose of its own accord, wanting nothing more than to touch and discover this new Ivory – the woman who was not only a witch from his coven but who was somehow also his mate. But apparently, she was still skittish and not willing to trust yet. She scrambled back on all fours before climbing gracefully to her feet. She raised her hands, palms out as if preparing them as weapons.

“There’s no need for that, Ivory. We won’t hurt you, you must know that. Just as you must know by now that your magic won’t work on us,” Vaughn’s voice was gruff from emotion, Seth knew. But the bluntness of his words, coupled with the rasp in his voice made him sound harsh. Ivory obviously thought so too because she flicked her hand in the direction of the heavy antique lamp in the corner of the room. Seth watched as it floated easily in the air.

“My magic may not work on you directly, but I’m betting this lamp sure will,” she cocked an eyebrow that was a shade darker than the hair on her head.

“We need you –” Vaughn began.

“Don’t! Don’t tell me whatyouneed.Ineed you to tell me what the hell is going on here. Who are you? Where are you from? Why are you here?” she pelted them with questions and Seth could feel her anxiety levels rising once more, “Why does my magic recognise you? Why does my jaguar want you?”

“We’ll explain everything,” Ronan’s deep voice soothed, “But maybe we should all get dressed first, hmm?”

Ivory looked startled at that, looking around the room before glancing at her own naked body and blushing prettily. Her pale skin pinked easily and Seth couldn’t help wanting to see how rosy this new version of Ivory became in the heat of passion. She gestured with her hand and a heartbeat later, the fluffy robe from the back of the lounge was within her grasp. She shrugged it on quickly, tying the belt securely. Their little witch certainly had a handy primary power. He couldn’t wait to see what else she could do.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Ronan lectured himself sternly not to stare dumbly at the woman in front of him. A witch. Ivory was a witch. And not just any witch. She was a witch from the Panthera bloodline, the coven he had been serving for generations. The same coven they had been searching endlessly for over the years. And what’s more, she was a white panther – which should have been impossible. Witches didn’t shapeshift.

“Stop staring,” Ivory muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

“I can’t help it. Ivory, you are …” he couldn’t finish the sentence, unable to find the words to describe how utterly gorgeous she was. He had thought her quiet beauty absolutely stunning this past week, cursing himself numerous times for initially thinking of her as plain when he had first met her. The more he got to know her, the more her beauty came to the surface. He had grown to love looking into her chocolate eyes, their warmth shining brightly above the dusting of freckles on her nose. Her brown hair had always been silky soft and every time she moved he had been able to smell vanilla, rain, and earth. But this Ivory … this Ivory was otherworldly. It was taking all of his control not to reach out and touch the pale perfection of her hair to see if it was as silky as it looked. Her eyes looked like sparkling gems of amethyst. And don’t even get him started on those pouty lips of hers …

“Ronan!”

“Huh?” he jerked, seeing the amused smirks on the faces of his male lovers, and the exasperation on Ivory’s. He must have been staring at her like some kind of daft, sex-crazed lunatic for the past couple of minutes, “Sorry,” he muttered, commanding himself not to blush.

Ivory huffed and squirmed under their collective gazes, "Just stop staring and start talking."

"Where do you want us to start?" he asked – there, see, he could articulate.

She huffed out an annoyed breath, "How about the part where you just happen to be familiars and I just happen to be a witch and I just happen to be being stalked and you just happen to be bodyguards for hire!" Ivory began speaking softly and slowly, but by the end of her tirade she was yelling and speaking so fast he could barely keep up with her. She panted, out of breath from her one long sentence.

"You know about familiars?" Seth asked, sounding surprised. Ronan couldn't blame him. Ivory's shocked and terrified reaction had him assuming she was somehow ignorant of their origins.

She eyed them all drolly, "I'm a witch. Of course I know what familiars are. That isn't what I want to know. I want to know what you're doing here."

"Protecting you," Vaughn pointed out, "What you hired us to do."

She snorted rudely, "Bullshit! You really expect me to believe you had no idea I was a witch? That this is just some kind of insane coincidence? Coincidences are for morons," she levelled her purple peepers at them, "And I'm no moron."

Vaughn laughed but there was no humour in the sound, "Trust me, I'm not into coincidences either. Maybe you're setting us up, hmm? Trying to catch yourself a familiar or two?"

Ivory sneered at him, "Why in the world would I want to catch a familiar? I've never been near one in my whole life."

"Never? Why is that, exactly?" Ronan asked, keeping his voice mildly curious rather than the antagonist tone of Vaughn's. The man was practically drowning in his terrified hope and it was making him defensive. Still, pushing Ivory was unlikely to get him the answers he desired, “Witches and familiars kind of go hand in hand."

She shifted her gaze to him, narrowing her eyes in suspicion, "Don't try that good 'ole country boy tone with me, Ronan. It won't work. You lied to me – have been lying to me since the day we met."

"Welied toyou? Hypocrite much?" Vaughn snorted, running agitated fingers through his already dishevelled hair, “Your whole face was a lie!"

Ronan cringed at Vaughn's tone – both accusatory but also laced with hurt. He really wished he would stop with the bad attitude, but it was his go-to mode whenever he was feeling vulnerable. Besides, Ronan could actually understand the hurt. He had been slowly and surely falling for the brunette barkeeper, and he knew the others had been too. To suddenly realise the face of the person they had spent the night making love with wasn't even real ... he shook his head. Yeah, hurt was the right word. Ivory remained silent, not responding to Vaughn's words. She had lost some of the stiffness in her shoulders but her face was still wary.

"Ivory, talk to us. Obviously we've stumbled onto something a little more complicated than an average stalker case. You and Vaughn may not be fans of coincidences but I sure am. Anything that brought us to you is fine by me," Seth grinned, open and eager, and Ronan saw Ivory relax just a little bit more.

Thank heavens for Seth, he thought.

"You're all really bodyguards? You aren’t my stalker? Or witch hunters? This is just some random twist of fate?" she asked, wariness mixed with what he thought was hope.

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