Page 7 of Spice
“Is it just me or is this…this magic…getting stronger?”
I shake my head. “It’s not just you. I think…” Again, truth and dishonesty go to war inside me, and again, truth wins out. “I think it might be a mating bond.”
Three
Willow
A mating bond. I don’t know whether to run screaming into the woods, laugh hysterically, or climb Ezra like a tree. Each option has its own charm, I have to say.
But I can’t run. I may not know Ezra from Adam, but I’m not going to leave him to die. Honestly, I still can’t believe that Gran cursed this man. It seems so unlike her, but then again, it was fifty years ago, and people do mellow with age.
And why didn’t she—or my mother—tell me I’m an Everwane? Did they not know?
The door to Ezra’s not-castle creaks open, and the inside is everything the outside promised. Candlelight flickers in sconces spaced evenly long the richly papered walls. Heavy velvet curtains in lush jewel tones hang in front of the large windows facing the front of the property.
I can feel his magic here. It’s like a small hum in the air, a vibration, subtle, but unmistakable once identified.
We step further inside the house, and I take it all in. The paintings on the walls, the way the wood creaks beneath ourfeet, the overstuffed brocade furniture. All the wood finishes are polished to a gleam, and everywhere I look, I find exquisite detail, from the banisters to the carved beams criss-crossing the ceiling. The air smells warm and spicy, like cloves and woodsmoke and something else. I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like the scent of starlight. Light and dark at the same time, ethereal and sparkling.
We move further into the house, and I notice that the candles in the sconces flare as I pass.
“Um,” I say, and when Ezra looks over at me, I point to the dancing flame.
He grins. “The house likes you here. It wants you to feel welcome.”
My eyebrows raise. “The house?” I’m like ninety-nine percent sure my apartment isnotsentient. (If it is, it hates me, with the clanking radiator, drafty windows, and leaky faucet that drives me nuts).
He nods, and then I feel it. The air brushes against my cheek in what can only be described as a gentle caress. The mirror hanging on the opposite wall suddenly fogs, and I watch, completely enraptured as two words emerge in a Gothic-style script.
Welcome, Willow
The air thickens and compresses around me, almost as though…
“Did your house just hug me?”
Ezra grins and nods. “Like I said. It likes you.” His eyes gleam in the candlelight, looking like sapphires, and I feel a tug, right in the center of my chest.
I want him. I’m hungry for him. I need him in a way I don’t understand. And I already know I’ll do whatever it takes to break this curse.
So much for running screaming into the woods.
He takes my hand, sending those delicious tingles racing up my arm, and leads me deeper into the house. Even though I’ve never been here before, it feels familiar. Like this is exactly where I’m meant to be.
Where I’m meant to stay.
The thought barrels through my brain, knocking me for a mental loop. Stay? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Yes, Ezra is sexy as hell. Having sex with him won’t exactly be a hardship. Yes, there’s a magical pull between us. Maybe even a mating bond. But he’d probably be the one running screaming into the woods if he knew I was thinking about moving in.
Ezra opens a door towards the back of the massive house/castle and gestures for me to enter.
“This is the ritual room,” he says, but honestly, I would’ve figured that out. Candles flicker from every available surface, and I can smell the magic in here even more intensely. But it doesn’t just smell like starlight in here. It smells like the creation of galaxies. It smells like life and death and truth.
Holy fuck, is Ezra powerful.
“Really? I’d have thought it was the kitchen,” I say, nerves bringing out my sarcastic side.
“Well, I will be doing some eating in here.”
My head whips to his, and I can see everything swirling in his eyes. The lust, the hope, the hunger, the sprinkle of humour. My lips curl up in a smile.
