Page 20 of How to Dump a Vampire

I have to shake myself out of staring at the door long after he’s gone.Pull yourself together!This weird attraction is exactly what I need to break. With Draven out fetching wood, I can use this time to work uninterrupted. I’m sure he will make it back in safely this time. The storm is starting to edge a bit. It should be safe to send him home soon.

Okay, there’s got to be some hidden jewel in this book that can save me from getting all doe-eyed over Mr. Can’t Keep His Smug Smirk To Himself. Come on, come on… Aha! A spell called Rite of Sundering. That sounds promising!

Skimming the description, it seems like it can sever metaphysical connections. Perfect! This mysticalwitch’s brew of herbs shouldn’t be too tricky to whip up either. The ritual’s incantation is elaborate but doable if I focus. Tonight when the crescent moon rises, we’ll be free!

I’m carefully brewing up the magical draught when Draven shoulders his way back inside, arms loaded with logs. Snowflakes twinkle in his windswept hair, and he flashes that infuriating grin. “Couldn’t go another minute without me, huh?”

“Hardly,” I retort with an exaggerated eye roll. “Just looking forward to not freezing to death overnight once you actually haul in enough firewood.” I pointedly bury my nose back in the spellbook.

He chuckles, clearly trying to get a rise out of me, and starts rebuilding the fire.

I sneak glances at him over the top of my book, admiring how the flames bring out reddish hints in those raven locks. Part of me hates how appealing he looks bathed in firelight.Cast the spell first. Moon over the hot vampire later!

Once the cottage is again filled with crackling warmth, I retrieve the brewed draught. In the flickering firelight, I pour all my magicand intention into it, reciting the spell’s shaping incantations. The liquid starts to glow and hum with power.

I look up to find Draven watching me curiously. Before he can ask, I quickly close my eyes. Just gotta focus on the mystical connection between us and sever it with this rite.

I start chanting the Sundering spell under my breath. The temperature instantly plummets, and an ominous creaking shakes the entire cottage. My eyes fly open, but it’s too late to back out now.

Draven jumps up, looking spooked as stuff starts rattling violently on the shelves. “Uh, Thorn? Wanna tell me what you’re up to right now?”

I don’t answer, pouring all my will into completing the volatile ritual, but my control is slipping, and the spell takes on an explosive life of its own. I have to see this through! I can’t let the havoc that the mate bond is wreaking on my magic take control.

Shouting the final verse, I direct the breaking point of the ritual squarely at the link between me and Draven. A deafening crack splits the air. At the same moment, a psychic rope snaps tight in my mind.

“Argh!” I double over from the rush of foreign emotions flooding my senses—confusion, concern, anger at my betrayal…

Crap. Felt that loud and clear. The spell backfired and connected our minds instead of cutting us off.

I glance up to see Draven looking just as shell-shocked, gripping his head.

“What the hell did you do?” he demands. “I can sense your feelings… hear your thoughts!”

Oh no. Please tell me he didn’t just pick up on my raging thirst to jump his bones. Awkward.

I turn away so he can’t see my flaming cheeks. “Um, slight magical mishap? Meant to restore our peace and privacy.” My voice comes out shaky and unconvincing. So much for stealth.

Warm fingers catch my chin, gently turning my face back toward him.

I brace for anger but see only earnest concern in his searching eyes. “You wanted space from me. I understand.” His thumb strokes my cheek. “But my presence does not have to be an intrusion.”

My treacherous heart flutters at his nearness. Words bubble up before I can stop them. “I wish I wasn’t so afraid…” Mortified at the uncheckedconfession, I pull away. No more risks while he’s leashed to my unfiltered mind!

Pulse pounding, I rush to the window. Thank the gods, the weather’s eased up quite a bit more than I had realized.

I start gathering up Draven’s things, movements jerky. “Storm’s passed. Time to be on your way!”

He frowns in confusion as I shove bread and his cloak at him, but I’m hyper-focused on preparing the transportation spell before our mental link gives me away completely.

Channeling crackling magic between my palms, I bark out, “Where am I sending you?”

“The royal castle in Everdusk,” Draven answers slowly. “But couldn’t we discuss—“

Everdusk? Ice floods my veins. He is really nobility? Every primal instinct in me shrieks trap.

I cut off his unspoken plea, forcing stiff composure. “And your position there?”

“I’m one of the princes.” His empty smile and guarded eyes spell reluctance.

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