Page 137 of Castings & Curses

The gorgeous stranger stood next to a warlock, someone she recognized from another coven, but couldn't name him. Neither had vied for her attention last night. Had they just arrived? A sense of intrigue sifted through Sage as she perused the stranger. Tall, dark, and divinely built. Short, layered chestnut hair framed his tan face, his striking chiseled cheekbones, and strong, aquiline nose over full sensuous lips. Powerful energy emanated from him even from her distance. The unbonded stranger was no ordinary warlock. He possessed intriguing powers. Powers she hungered to uncover.

Aspen nudged Sage’s arm, but the words her sister uttered flew in one ear and out the other, not stopping at “go” and collecting two hundred bucks. Dazed, Sage sidestepped past Joshua and strolled onto the patio. Curiosity killing her inner cat, she headed toward the two men.

As she watched The One with every step closer, something about him compelled her. She couldn’t stop approaching him even if she wanted to. Powerful, innate, he was more than his gorgeous visage and tall height that made her five-nine height appear short. He had muscles to die for beneath his short-sleeve T-shirt and snug jeans. She needed to know Mr. Freaking Gorgeous ASAP. Both warlocks’ gazes settled on her and stuck. Their surprise and fascination twisted into her own awed senses. Had she found her first chosen warlock to bond? The warlock every High Priestess in the western region demanded she bond? Her literalFirst Warlock? The prospects crammed her with a buzzing excitement.

The man standing beside Tall, Dark, and Dreamy bowed his head, prodded the other to do the same. “Greetings, High Priestess Wilde,” he said, following formal witchworld rules.

“Hey,” The One said, tripping over the word. “Um, High Priestess Wilde.”

His voice!Oh, goddess, his smooth baritone set off a fountain between her legs. His gaze never ceased slurping her up, crawling from her ankle boots to the roots of her long, loose blonde hair. Heat assailed her, and she invoked witch-air to fan her face. Her hair wafted in the breeze she created, and she killed the spell to avoid detection.

“Hello—” She started to say “boys,” but they were all men. “Gentlemen. Who brought you to the festival?”

“I’m Sammy Luchese. Came with the Scotts Valley coven this morning.” He elbowed his friend. “This mute is my bud Rafael Reyes. Came with me, but he’s unbonded.”

Sage’s eyebrows hiked up again. Might be a permanent hike if she didn’t watch it. “So you’re bonded.”

“A Helwig witch bonded me at the Autumn Solstice festival.”

The surname of her arch-nemeses couldn’t dampen Sage’s fascination and the lust raging in her womanly parts. “So, Rafael.” She inclined her head at him in acknowledgement. “Can you speak?” A smile teased the corners of her lips.

He cleared his throat, scratched his jaw. “Sorry. Yeah.” Golden glimmers twinkled in his awestruck whiskey-colored eyes.

With a sudden sharpness, Sage realized she needed him more than anything else in her life. More than air. “Have you pledged to a witch yet?”

“Not sure what that means.” He slid a questioning glance at Sammy.

“He’s lost.” Sammy grinned, displaying impeccable white teeth, no doubt a victim of teen braces. Red streaks in his short, choppy auburn hair glittered under the rising sun. Though Sammy was a few inches shorter than Rafael, his toned and powerful body would make any witch feel safe entrusting him with her magic. The typical warlock, hence the reason they made perfect guards. “Thought I’d help him find someone who’d give him the four-one-one.”

Rafael’s innate tug on her fire intrigued the hell out of her. As if he’d reached into her aether core and snapped handcuffs on her magic, and only he held the key. As though he possessed his own magic that harmonized with hers. The residual aether glowed bright and warm inside Sage, but the good side of the aether coin. She wanted to bathe in it and melt under his hands, his lips, under his entire body. Why hadn’theattended the party last night instead of Joshua?

“Well, Sage Wilde,” a hateful, grating voice infringed upon the moment. “I see you’ve met my recruit.” The witch glided to a standstill beside Rafael, not bothering to give Sage the proper greeting of one in a higher station. Ire turned her stomach into a tight ball. Zelda’s rosewater perfume overwhelmed the air. Not a scent she’d smelled in the woods earlier. Not that it mattered. Could’ve been any Helwig minion following orders.

Sage rotated her body a bit toward the older witch. Older by at least thirty years. Not unattractive unless you counted her uppity, snarky attitude, evilness, and spitefulness. No pointy hat or pointy-toed boots graced her all-black attire and board-straight black hair.

“Well met, Zelda.” Sage nodded at the Helwig witch. “Did you just arrive?” Or did you attack me in the woods earlier? Sage’s unspoken question begged for an answer.

“Yes. My sister and I are excited for the Council meeting today.” She linked her arm in Rafael’s and his startled gaze bounced from Sage to Zelda. “Now, my dear boy, it’s time we got better acquainted.” Sammy bowed to Sage, and Zelda guided the two men toward the woods.

A twinge of jealousy ripped through Sage’s fury. As she watched Rafael disappear down the flagstones, she couldn't shake the feeling that her path promised to cross his again. Anticipation fluttered in her chest, diminishing her anger. She made a mental note to find ways in her busy schedule to seek him out. Rafael Reyes in the mix guaranteed an exciting adventure and a hopeful future. Despite Zelda laying her claim and the rules of poaching a witch’s warlock. Warlocks retained a choice, and she’d damn well ensure Rafael chose correctly.

CHAPTER4

Disoriented,Rafael walked away from the alluring blonde witch, the smell of her perfume still enticing him. The intensity of her gaze lingered on him. Lust barreled through him, and he wanted to zip back to her, touch her, and feast his sight on her. Her curves shot his desire into overdrive, and he itched to touch her, to ensure she wasn't an illusion. Was the weird internal connection he felt real?

As he walked into the woods toward the Helwigs’ designated spot on the fringes of the meadow, that connection wrenched on him. Tried to lure him back. To the most beautiful and bewitching woman he’d ever seen. Her long, wavy hair glinted like spun gold in the morning sunlight. She was so damn hot. The sight of Sage Wilde's captivating beauty made his heart skip a beat, like fate had delivered. As if the universe had chosen him to experience something special in coming to the festival.

He'd accompanied Sammy not just for a good time, although God knows he needed to party, but Sammy also said he might learn about himself. It wasn’t until they’d arrived at the Helwigs’ property that Sammy divulged what he meant. Until that morning, he had no clue Sammy was a warlock and derived magic from a witch. The witchworld had remained in total darkness in Rafael’s mind, until Sammy hinted Rafael was probably a warlock. Which explained nothing. Which explained a shit-ton about why he didn’t know his family roots or what was living inside him. Until he met Sage Wilde, and that thing inside him stirred like never before. About to scurry back to her, he halted and Zelda’s arm fell from his.

“Something wrong?” the witch asked. Sammy came up short behind him and nearly brained himself against Rafael’s back.

“Sorry, man.” Rafael stumbled on his words, so tongue-tied from the revelations opening up his mind. “That girl, Sage, who is she?”

Zelda’s perpetual frown shifted to a deadpan look of hatred. “Girlis about right. You don’t need to distract yourself with Sage Wilde. She’s too busy screwing everything on two legs and drinking herself under the table.”

“Wait, I thought she’s the High Priestess of the entire California region.” Sammy shuffled his sneakers in the pea gravel lining the path. “Aren’t the coven heads supposed to vote her in as the western region High Priestess? Pretty damn young for such a prime position.”

An epic scowl altered Zelda’s half-assed pretty face to an old hag. Rafael almost slunk into the woods to avoid catching whatever crawled up her ass.

---