Page 49 of The Coven

I moved around him, approaching his desk and putting him behind me. Drawing in a few deep breaths to steady myself without that piercing stare on mine, I fiddled with the paperweight on his desk. The black gem was somehow translucent, and the face of a woman stared back at me as I lifted it.

Her face was blurred, and I couldn’t see the details as Gray reached around me and set it back on the desk. I whirled, spinning on him and shaking off the dread the sight of that woman filled me with. The makeshift crown upon her head was a twisted, gnarled thing, with birch branches sweeping across her head like antlers.

“Susannah isn’t going to let me bring us back to the old ways without a fight. We’ll need to avoid her notice for a while,” I admitted, wondering how far Gray’s protection would actually go.

“That sounds familiar,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared down at me with a raised brow, reminding me of the warning he’d issued at the gravesite.

“You were right, okay? I should have listened to you. You know her better than I do,” I mumbled, twisting my lips.

“That looked absolutely painful,” he muttered, rolling his eyes to the side. “But I’m glad if nothing else, this has put us on the same page. Do what you must to work toward your end goal, but don’t endanger yourself in the process.”

“We should discuss strategy. I’m sure you have thoughts about the best way to go about this,” I said, watching as he strode around his desk and left me there. He bent over a piece of paper, picking up his pen and scribbling a note for himself as if I were a bother.

“Love, I don’t give the first shit about the politics of the Coven. I don’t care how they choose to practice. If they want to waste the gift they were given, then they deserve to lose it,” he said, a slow smile spreading across his face as my stomach dropped. Nausea churned in it as I tipped my head to the side, my eyes drifting closed in my confusion.

“But our bargain—” I broke off, a shuddering gasp leaving me as his steely stare met mine when I opened my eyes. “You never cared about the magic, did you?”

The white of his teeth glinted as he ran his tongue over his fang. “I got what I wanted out of our bargain,” he said, evading the question entirely. His eyes dropped down my body, that feeling of nausea in my gut so at odds with the pressure between my legs. Even now, with the unrelenting rage building in me, I couldn’t push it away.

“You fucking asshole!” I screamed, grabbing the black paperweight off his desk. I threw it, aiming for his stupid, handsome face. My body moved more quickly than I expected, the paperweight flying through the air too quickly for me to track.

I had only a moment of shock as it sped toward his face, and he twisted out of its path onlyjustin time for it to skim over his shoulder. Crashing into the portrait of Lucifer behind him, it shattered into shards of glass on the credenza below the portrait, cutting a seam through the center of the canvas.

For a moment, everything was still. Gray’s attention snagged on that paperweight on the floor, remaining there as I fumbled for what to do. For what to say. I wouldn’t apologize when he’d manipulated me so thoroughly.

But could I blame him? I’d been so convinced I had the upper hand that I hadn’t thought it through. I hadn’t considered that he may not have the same goals as I did. The fault was mine entirely, but I still hated him for it.

He turned to face me, his body moving so painfully slowly that I counted my breaths before his stare landed on me once again. His face was so carefully controlled, and somehow, I thought that might be worse than his rage.

I blinked.

He was gone.

My breath rattled in my lungs, and I pursed my lips together as I turned my head slowly. Looking over my shoulder. I didn’t dare move, didn’t dare to give him any reason to think I’d run. The hair on the back of my neck rose, and in this moment, I knew he was the predator and I was the prey.

His hand wrapped around my nape, shoving me forward as he appeared at my side. His other hand swept everything off his desk with a growl, sending it clattering to the floor with a crash I suspected everyone in Hollow’s Grove heard.

He shoved me toward the desk, bending me forward so harshly that I only just managed to catch myself with my hands and keep my face from smacking against the wood.

“Thorne!” I said, wincing when he pushed harder and shoved my cheek against it. He kept me pinned there, a low rumble vibrating in his chest.

“That is not my name. Not to you,” he warned, holding me still as I fought, pushing against his grip.

He leaned his body over mine, the fabric of his slacks rubbing against the bare skin of my thighs and my ass where his shirt had ridden up in the scuffle. His lips touched my cheek, his eyes so close to mine that it felt like nothing existed but him. His mouth brushed my skin as he spoke, sending a shiver through me.

“I think you’ve forgotten what I am, Witchling.”

“A mistake I won’t make again, you fucking—” I said, glaring at him as my nostrils flared with my anger. He was too fucking strong, keeping me pinned still without any effort on his part. I could exhaust myself, and he wouldn’t even break a sweat.

“I tolerate your mouth because youamuseme, Willow. Tread carefully, or you just might cease to be amusing,” he said, his voice stern as he pulled back slightly. He stared down at me, keeping me held still as I swallowed my retort. “I am a demon,” he growled, holding my gaze with blue eyes that seemed to shine from within. “I may be trapped within a body that resembles a man, but you would be a fool to mistake me for one. I am not human, and I will not behave as one.”

“There is a difference between expecting you to be human and expecting you not to lie to me,” I said, sinking my teeth into the inside of my cheek in an attempt to keep some of the venom from my voice.

“When have I lied to you?” he asked, his head tipping to the side with genuine curiosity.

“You said I was safe with you!” I hissed, struggling against his grip to prove my point.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice a soft murmur.

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