Page 108 of Outlaw Witch

I shove down the weird feeling in my gut at the thought of never seeing her again. It can sit with the sense of fleeting concern I had, the fear of not knowing if she was hurt.

Must be all the painkillers fucking with my head.

Nothing more than that.

30

Fabian

“It’s colder than awitch’s tit out here,” Seb grumbles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Oh shit, that might be offensive. Is that offensive?” He turns to Silver who rolls her eyes and smacks him on the shoulder. “Just coz you’re a witch, right? And I’m not saying I’ve been thinking about your tits or anything but—”

“Dude, stop talking.” She snorts, her breath coming out in little puffs of mist in front of her.

Seb’s nervous as hell, hence the motormouth bullshit spilling out of him. But he’s not wrong. It’s fucking cold. The three of us are gathered up on the roof for the ritual and there’s a damn gale howling, bringing with it a cold that’s seeping right into my bones. I honestly think my balls have shriveled up inside my body, and I’m not sure they’re ever going to make another appearance again.

So long friends, it was nice knowing you. I know that recently you’ve been neglected. And you’ve been bluer than a Smurf’s scrotum. Sorry you didn’t get a better send off.

Especially with the dark-haired, starburst-eyed beauty with mouth-watering curves who's been gracing us... me—since my balls don’t actually have brains of their own, no matter what they think—with her presence over the past few months.

I know I’ve not been good company recently. Honestly, I’ve been shit company for months now, too fucking tired and in pain to be able to stand up. Still, though, Silver’s stuck around. She’s spent more time in that fucking medical center room than anyone, even my brothers.

It seems like my body’s going wayward and that’s not just thanks to the molderingthinginside of me that’s rotting. My balls hum and my chest fizzes every time she’s with me. I’m a fucking mess.

And somehow, she seems to like my presence.

Which is wild.

It also happens to be the worst fucking timing. There are two ways tonight is going to go. Either the ritual will fail again and I’ll have to be put down like a rabid dog.

Or it’ll work... and I’m going to have to sacrifice something pretty big for it to stick. And the thing that I have in mind, that I’ve not told anybody about, is going to cause some pretty big waves.

“How long are we going to be out here? Silver hasn’t even got a proper coat,” Seb grumbles.

He’s right, she doesn’t. She’s wearing that crappy leather thing that’s practically glued to her skin, the only coat I’ve seen her wear even though the weather has taken a turn.

Her nose and her fingers are bright red, and I remember she’s been out here for ages already. She set up the rune circle by herself since Roscoe and Zeph are both still bedbound. Concussion did a real number on them both and they’ve been either sleeping or pretty out of it for days.

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