Page 93 of Blood Sweeter than Honey

Thrust.

“Mine to love.”

Thrust.

“Mine to fuck.”

Thrust.

“Mine to breed.”

Winnow nods, holding my gaze.“Yes. I want that–need that.”

Something squeezes in my chest with hope.

“Which part, angel?”

“I want you to breed me.”

My head tips back as a rough groan escapes me. When my eyes return to hers, her brows pinch with helplessness, lips parted on a needy whine as her core clenches around me. My climax surges and crashes over me in the same moment as hers.

“I fucking love you, angel.”

Her eyes glisten, and her chin trembles. “I loveyou.”

“More than anyone or anything I’ve ever known.”

WINNOW

Gideon is sound asleep beside me and my body aches in the best way from his attentions–and I wouldn’t have it any other way. The only problem is that my mind is consumed by thoughts of Gideon’s ex. It is entirely unfair that this woman haunts him, and therebyus,even five years later. Magic is buzzing through my veins. As does purpose. I’m terrified to test it out, but my intuition tells me that, thanks to Gideon’s blood, if I tried, I’d be able tofold.

Now all I have to do is figure out where the shit this woman is.

I need to scry.

Gideon is sound asleep beside me, and I manage to slip the letter out from its hiding spot beneath me as I virtually levitate out of bed, lest I wake him, so I can tiptoe into the kitchen.

Trigger’s soft whines, huffing jowls, and shifting paws tell me he’s sound asleep and having a dream. Sweet boy.

Grabbing a large ceramic bowl from the cupboard, I fill it with water and utter a whispered prayer.

Please, Akash… Please let this work.

My eyes slip shut as I visualise the garden and attempt towillmyself there.

In the next moment, a warm breeze whips over me, and cool soil greets my feet. Triumph bursts through, and a grin splits my face, tipped up toward the moon.

I can feel it’s had an effect on my magic—drained it, if only slightly, but I have no doubt I’ll be able to do it again with relative ease before I need to feed again.

Kneeling in the soil, I set the bowl of water down and look up at the sky. A few clouds pepper the sky, but it’s nearly a full moon, which means that the currents of magic that thread together the very tapestry of our universe have reached their zenith, making things like scrying more effective, so the chances are in my favor that this will work.

Dipping a singular finger in the bowl, I tilt my face toward the moon as I hold the letter in one hand, and guide my energy, my will, into the fabric of the universe to part its sacred threads and reveal to me that which I seek.

A sleek bathroom fills my mind’s eye, where the modelesque dark-haired woman who’d snuck onto Gideon’s property stands in front of the mirror, applying a face mask. Up close, she is even more attractive than I’d been able to discern from a distance when I first saw her. Attractive in all the ways I am not. Dark hair, exotic features, curves in all the right places—and in none of the so-called wrong ones—and supple, golden-tan skin.

She looks like she could be a goddess of sex or something equally carnal that every male loves.

Admittedly, she’s intimidating as shit, but I refuse to lose my nerve.

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