Page 24 of Captive Mate
“Everyone knows what a pathetic wuss you are, Nate. Letting your father use you like that.” I doubted almost anyone knew, actually, but the more off-balance he was, the less likely he was to be able to maintain that fucking spell he had on me. “What kind of warlock just hands his power over to someone, much less a psychopath like that? I mean, evenIthink he was a psychopath. What does that say about you, following him around like a whipped dog your whole life?”
“Arik, that’s enough,” Matthew said sharply.
“Fuck you.” Nate stood abruptly, knocking the chair to the wood floor with a clatter and a thud. “I didn’t have any choice, okay?”
The pull of his spell was weakening, and I could feel my magic starting to regenerate. Come on, come on…it wasn’t fast enough. By the time he got hold of himself again, I’d only have enough to maybe try to knock out either him or Matthew, and I had to be able to get them both at once if I had even the faintest hope of making it out of the room, let alone the house.
“Oh yeah? No choice? You couldn’t walk away? Couldn’t kill him in his sleep?” I remembered some other gossip I’d picked up from listening to Colin’s younger brother Jackson go on and on about people I mostly couldn’t give a shit about. “Couldn’t do something, anything, other than spread your legs for your mate’s cousin —”
“Shut up!” Nate cried, and now he looked like he was on the verge of tears.
Matthew moved so fast I couldn’t dodge; he flipped me onto my back and slapped a hand over my mouth, hard. “I said enough.”
I stared up at him, holding perfectly still, not fighting him at all. His blue eyes were cold, filled with nothing but contempt.
You fought for me, I wanted to say.You fought and nearly died for me, and then I saved your life. Doesn’t that count for anything?
Good thing he was keeping me from talking, because if I had said any of that, I’d have had to kill myself out of sheer self-disgust.
I didn’t need to talk, though. I needed to act. Because Nate’s control had slipped, and my magic was flowing back along the spell’s conduit.
Matthew’s hand on my mouth was warm, the skin firm and callused. I needed him distracted too. I parted my lips as much as I could under his grip, slipped my tongue between them, and teased his palm with it.
His eyes widened and his whole body stiffened. Now that I had all my senses, I could feel his arousal through my own spell: it took him over, making himwantwith every cell in his body.
He wanted to hold me down and knot me, he wanted to bite me and make me his mate. He wanted me to writhe in pleasure under him…
I shivered and moved the tip of my tongue in a little circle, like I would have on the head of his cock. Matthew let out a quiet, gut-punched sound — would that be what he sounded like when he came?
Fuck, it didn’t matter, and I didn’t care.
My magic wasn’t quite there, but I couldn’t wait any longer. I wouldn’t get another chance like this. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Nate standing there, breathing hard, his hands over his face. Maybe he was crying. Maybe he was getting his shit together.
Either way, I didn’t have long.
So I struck out while the striking was good, hitting them both with a wave of as much magic as I could gather up at once.
Matthew jerked like he’d been electrocuted, every one of his muscles going rigid. I pushed up with all my physical strength and shoved him off, sending him tumbling over me and off the bed onto the floor.
I lurched to my feet, throwing what little power I had left at Nate, who’d stumbled to his knees in my first attack. I wrenched at the spell between us, pulling not just my own magic through it but his, too, as much as I could grasp, like strands of yarn on a broken loom, catching and pulling and tangling.
My magic looked like deep reds and purples, shifting and shadowy. His was mostly blue, shot through with strands of gold. It might’ve been pretty if I wasn’t fighting for my life.
And I nearly won. Nate cried out and fell to the floor on his side, gasping for air, his hands flailing reflexively as he tried to seize back control of his magic and of mine.
I was so sure I had him, and I got greedy; the thought of taking something of his with me, of strengthening myself at his expense after what he’d put me through, was more than I could resist.
I pulled harder, tearing at the core of his magic, stripping him bare.
And what I revealed wasn’t the soft, pulsing magic of a weak man, but the granite resistance of someone who’d already lost too much and wasn’t going to lose what little he had left.
I smacked into his magical core like hitting a brick wall. Reeling back, dizzied, I lost control, all of our magic spiraling around us like streamers in a gale.
“No,” I heard from — inside my head? Through my ears? I wasn’t sure. But then I heard, “Not again!” loud and clear, and it was definitely Nate’s voice.
My head rang, and I staggered for the window. I could still escape. I didn’t have much magic to spare, but neither did he. I tugged the sash up wildly and flung myself halfway through. I’d have enough strength to cushion my fall. I’d shift, I’d run, and they didn’t know my real scent, because I’d spent years layering myself with enchantments to cover it up even when my magic was temporarily out of commission. They’d lose my trail in the woods.
A huge, heavy arm came out of nowhere and wrapped around my waist, jerking me away from the window and plastering my back against a broad chest.
