Page 62 of The Witch's Spell
My fingers wrap around my shaft. I can almost pretend they’re hers. Aurora’s.
I close my eyes. And I imagine tasting her skin, tracing my tongue along the curve of her breasts, sinking my weight between her legs until it’smyname she whispers in the dark. My fingers stroke my length. My other hand grips the counter, my legs already starting to shake.
Aurora’s mouth moves behind my eyelids, whispering sweet words into my pointed ear. Her hair falls all around us, tickling my cheeks and the backs of my hands as I reach up to cup her face in my palms. And she tastes like summer when I kiss her.
It’s been so long since I touched myself, it takes no time at all to hit my climax.
And when I do, it’s with gritted teeth and Aurora’s face in my mind, her imagined breath touching my lips. Finally, the pressure between my legs eases, but it does nothing to soothe thestrain on my soul.
This whole time, I thought I could resist the pull I feel toward her, thought I could just walk out of here as simply as I walked in.
But as my body trembles and I take a ragged breath, I start to worry if I might be wrong. If maybe this earth witch has ensnared me in a trap. And if it’s one I even wish to escape from.
Chapter 30
Aurora
THOUGH THORNE TRIES TO HIDE it, I see the pain on his face as he lowers himself into a chair at the kitchen table. The day is gray and dreary, and fat snowflakes drift silently from the sky, falling in a thin sheet of white.
“You’re hurting today,” I say as I pour him a steaming cup of mint tea. He’s not wearing his glamour anymore, now that everyone knows what he is, and I’m finding it hard not to stare at him, even as he does something so simple as sit at the table.
“Yes,” he says. One hand rubs absently at his knee. “I believe a storm may be coming in. The weather shifts cause my body to ache.”
“And what of your pain potions?” I ask as I turn from the countertop to place the teacup in front of Thorne. He looks up at me and smiles. The sunlight hits his pale eyes, and I’m reminded of the pillars of crystal quartz I have sitting in the windowsill. It takes me a moment to tear my gaze away.
“I’m almost out,” Thorne says. “Perhaps half a vial left at this point.”
I pour myself a cup of tea while asking, “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Thorne’s laughter is soft and melodic. “Because it’s not your burden. You’ve done too much for me already.”
Rolling my eyes, I take a seat across from him. “Nonsense. I already told you I’d help.”
Thorne meets my gaze and holds my stare. It’s just for a moment, but it makes my heart leap in my chest. His eyes trace my face before dropping to my lips.
I wonder if he’s thinking what I’m thinking, wanting to try our kiss one more time. But then he turns away, clearing his throat.
“It would be much appreciated. So long as it’s not any trouble.”
With his eyes averted, looking out the kitchen window, I’m able to catch my breath. “Not at all. I should have the ingredients I need here. Chamomile, honey, cinnamon, white will—”
Wait.
Pushing to my feet, I go to my jars of herbs. Grasping the white willow jar, I pull it down to find that it’s empty but for a light dust at the bottom of the glass. I used so much for Faolan when he was injured that I ran out, but I’ve not remembered to pick any up while in Faunwood.
“It’s all right,” Thorne says from behind me. “Truly.”
But when I glance back at him, he’s rubbing his knee again, a slight furrow in his smooth brow.
“No,” I say. “I can help. Niamh won’t mind if I take the ingredients I need while she’s gone; I’ll leave the eldertokens I owe her in the back. I’m not sure how to get in though...”
Breaking a window surely isn’t acceptable, nor would it be appropriate to break the lock on her door. So how will—
“I’m rather good with a lock pick,” Thorne announces. His pale eyes glimmer with a hint of mischief.
My brows rise. “You? A thief?”
“Hey, I’m no thief.” He holds his hands up, palms out. “My uncle taught me.”
