Page 32 of Unhinged Magic
“Please tell me my twin’s ghost is not getting off on you.”
I felt my face flush and turned away, attempting to avoid Wesley’s heavy glare. I could not answer that and did not know what his brother’s spirit wanted from me. What I had felt, orthoughtI had felt on my neck, could have very well been a dream.
“It’s not like that. Not really.”
“Not really!” Wesley stared at me like I was insane, motioning toward the chair. “Maybe he’s the problem. Maybe the reason I can feel the mate bond and you can’t ishim.”
Stunned into silence, I sat quietly, Wesley’s words making more sense the more I thought about them. Was it possible that Wesley’s brother thought I was his fated mate?
I bit my lip, letting that thought settle for a moment. Let it simmer as I mulled it over. If this was correct… It was almost too much to comprehend.
“I need to go,” he murmured, suddenly heading for the sliding door.
“No, wait!” Moving toward him, I planted my hand on his chest, the thump of his heart kneading my palm, an unruly beat.
“Please.” He forced out the plea, a part of me scattering into a thousand pieces at the sound. Pain, devastation, bewilderment all bundled into one breath. I wanted to capture the word in my hand and caress it. Somehow make whatever this was right.
I felt his composure waning with every second and understood his need for time to digest this before we could figure out how to move forward from here.
“We will fix this,” I promised, and I raised to my toes, brushing my lips on his cheek.
Wesley held me captive in his stupor, his irises molding from pain to something more predatory in a single moment. His head turned to the chair once more before hurling his attention back to me, a newfound intensity imploding in his gaze before his mouth claimed mine in every sense of the word.
Demanding. Taking.Possessing.
I was weightless in his arms.
When he tore his lips from mine, his tone spoke of the demons in his head. “You’re mine,” he rasped, a gravelly, chilling sound as if he were trying to convince himself just as much as me.
His hands held the sides of my face as if feeding me his own assurance, like he would not stop until I was his.
When he finally let go, I felt his absence like one would the eye of a hurricane. A stone- cold quiet that sank into my chest, rendering me speechless and immobile.
I watched as he turned away, walking to the door, his footsteps heavy as if they held the weight of the world in their soles. As he slid the door open, it rumbled like thunder clouds rolling into the uncomfortable silence between us. He glanced behind him, capturing me in his spell once more, before clambering back over the balcony and disappearing into the night.
I exhaled deeply, my chest sinking. It heaved and sank again as I stared at the chair. Which now sat empty. My head spun, searching for Wesley’s brother, but he was gone.
I could not explain nor comprehend tonight’s events. Wesley had broken me, so damn sure he was myfatedmate. His conviction in every word, every touch, every kiss…
I needed to not think about that kiss right now. It alone had the means to completely and utterly break my heart if my instincts were anything to go by. And if he was wrong? I wasn’t sure I could deal with that. Withhim. If there was any truth to Wesley’s admission, how cruel it would be to create such a bond and mask it with such fragile indifference? But I knew one thing to be true. If we were indeed fated mates, I wanted to feel it all. Ineededto feel it all.
Torn between two worlds, my heart staggered, searching to make any sense of this. I could see the desire in Wesley’s eyes, the way his body reacted to mine, and the pain at not having me feel the same way. It was molded into every interaction of his.
There was no denying my attraction to him. Something deep inside yearned for his touch, searched for it, even. Something clawed at my insides, wanting to be freed.
But how to go about it? I wasn’t sure.
I flopped back into bed, my thoughts spinning.Twins.
I tugged the bedcovers under my chin, staring at the empty chair. I believed we all got to live another life after death, and I could not let myself think that there was nothing more after this one. That this was it. Death would not be the end for us, and that was something I held onto, even if I did not voice it out loud.
Sleep eventually tugged me into its hold, the wildest of dreams coming to me in vivid detail. Images of a living room where a fire burned brightly under a mahogany-trimmed mantle, an antique chandelier casting a dim light over the room. It felt strangely familiar.
At some stage of the night, I woke up. Every nerve on alert as a brush of air hit my neck.
The ghost?
I froze as pressure floated over my hip.
