Page 60 of Her Wicked Knights
I don't get past the shock enough to ask what about me, because he continues. "You felt the enchantment, didn't you? I slipped into your mind and took control because you refused to do what needed to be done. You felt me there, didn't you? Stroking your brain, pressing on your will. You know, you were my first?"
I swallow past the bile trying to creep up my throat at the memory of what he's saying... the memories buried beneath that one.
"Fuck off." It's weak, but it's all I can manage before he continues.
"I've practiced on animals before. Frogs, squirrels, my neighbor's dog... but you're the first person I've been inside of like that. I've seen things in you that no one ever has, haven't I?"
I can feel Tripp and Colton watching me, expecting something. But I can't give them anything.
"You two... hooked up?" Tripp ventures.
"Fuck no." I spit, because the thought is insulting. I usually have pretty low standards, but they're notthatlow. Whit's good-looking in a wolfish way, but he's a fucking psychopath... and not the fun kind, as far as I've seen.
"That would be trivializing what we did." Whit shrugs. "I possessed him, in a manner of speaking. I got inside his head and shut down all the things you don't realize are behind those pretty eyes. And then I took control, helped him to do what needed to be done. And because I did that, I know that you don't think this is all a bunch of smoke and mirrors. You know it's real, Rev, so why are you pretending it's not?"
I don't speak. I don't trust myself to open my mouth without letting go of every toxic thought fighting through my addled mind.
"You all know it's real. You saw me conjure the flame, you saw me take over Rev's mind and body, you've lived the bonding ceremony. You just don't remember the last part."
"Bonding ceremony?" Colton rolls his eyes.
"Bonding of souls." He agrees. "See, we're all tethered from past lives. Five of us."
"Five?"
I'm surprised that's what Tripp chose to contend with, and not the whole ‘past lives’ thing.
"The four of us," Whit nods, "and our source. Ouranchor."
"An anchor." Colton nods. "Past lives, binding souls. You're certifiable, you know?"
For a moment, Whit only stares at Colton, and Colton only stares back. And then, slowly, Colton moves. His steps are jerky at first, like he's spent too long in a confined space and is just now remembering how to use his legs. But with each step he takes, it gets more fluid as he ascends the stairs, up to the spot where my father preaches. But he doesn't step behind the pulpit-he stands right there in the center of the stage and strips his shirt over his head without a word.
"What's he doing?" Tripp whispers, like he's afraid that Colton is suffering the same psychosis as Whit now and speaking it out loud will cause him to snap. It's not far off, because when I tear my eyes from Colton as he shoves his boxers and jeans down his thighs, I realize exactly what's going on. Whit's in his mind, pulling the strings.
It's wrong to watch whatever the fuck is about to happen, but I can't tear my eyes away from him. Colton's got an impressive physique, and I think he's actually only gotten bigger since school ended despite no longer training for football. And I always suspected he'd have a big dick, but... fuck me, I way underestimated. Jesus, that thing reaches to mid-thigh, even limp... and like the rest of him, it's thick. But it's not limp for long, because he grips it and begins stroking his length, which quickly rises to his touch.
"What the fuck?" Tripp demands. "Colton, you fucking freak, put your dick away."
"I've gotten better since I played with you last, Rev." Whit chuckles to himself. "Or else, he's just weaker. Look how easy he is to control... his eyes are blank. There's not even any resistance. I wonder how long it would last... how far I can push you?"
He's quiet a minute as we watch in horror as Colton works himself faster, and I know I should look away, but I'm spellbound. Maybe literally. Is this Whit's doing, or is it just how fucking impressive his body is?
My fascination falters when Tripp moves toward the steps, his movements shaky and halting.
"What the fuck?" He cries, panic clear in his voice as he moves.
"Whit..." I warn, because I don't know where he's going with this, but I know he needs to stop.
Having him in my head had been a violation on every level. Watching him do the same thing to some of the only people I care about? It's wrong on so many levels.
"Colton looks like a natural top, don't you think?"
"Whit!" I growl, panic crawling up my throat as I watch Tripp fall to his knees in front of Colton, facing out to me so that I can see the alarm in his eyes, the way it doubles sharply as Colton ceases his stroking and rips Tripp's jeans down his hips. The angle leaves nothing exposed to me, but I know his ass is out, and I know what's about to happen.
"Just fucking stop it!" I growl. "We'll do whatever you want us to do."
"Clearly." Whit snorts, gesturing to my best friends before us, trapped in their bodies, hostages to Whit moving them around. "Maybe just the tip will do it?"
