Page 2 of Witch Unbound
Back at the cabin,Tor laid Rune on the sofa in the lounge. The fire crackled merrily in the hearth and the aroma of lasagna filled the air. This was meant to be our getaway. Our second home. A place where we could unwind and connect, but it had become a place of death and blood.
I had to change that. I needed to fix this atrocity.
Leif stood by the fire with a sleepy-looking Wren in his arms and Tor knelt on the floor by Rune’s legs, his eyes glassy and dazed. He’d been forced to look his best friend in the eye and shoot him, and I’d attacked him with fists and curses.
A vise closed around my heart and squeezed. “Tor…” I reached up and stroked his stubbled jaw. “I’m sorry.”
He blinked and then focused on my face. “Bring him back, Cora. Bring him back to us.”
I nodded, blinking back fresh tears. “I will. I promise.”
“Wait, will you be safe?” Leif asked.
“I’ll be fine.”
I smiled at them and dropped Wren a wink before placing a hand on Rune’s chest. He was still warm, still connected to me, and I was going to bring him home.
I closed my eyes and made the jump into Tarrifel.
The world shifted and shattered before spitting me out in darkness. A spot of light sat ahead of me. A beacon to new arrivals. I knew that spot of light. It was the bus stop where the newly deceased hung out before getting a ticket and a ride to…wherever they went from here. Rune had to be there.
I broke into a jog toward it. “Rune! Rune!”
Light kissed my skin and the deserted bus stop taunted me.
He wasn’t here. Oh, God. Was I too late? Panic gripped my throat and squeezed. No. Fuck that. I wouldn’t accept that.
“Loke! Loke, get your ass over here.”
A dark wooden door appeared in front of me, hovering in mid-air. I took it as an invitation and pushed through into a dimly lit room that smelled of incense and sex. The moans of pleasure that drifted to my ears confirmed sex was exactly what the occupants of this room were up to.
Shit. Maybe the door hadn’t been an invitation.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust and settle on the huge bed in the center of the chamber where a woman rode cock, head thrown back, hands kneading her breasts. Something thrashed behind her. A fucking tail.
Oh, shit, she had horns too.
My gaze dropped to the guy.
Loke.
His hands were on her hips, urging her on as she rode him, hips snapping upward to thrust deep. His eyes were closed, dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, head tipped back, jaw tight.
He didn’t make a sound, but the tension in the ripped muscles of his naked body warned of a coming eruption.
Heat rushed up my body and stained my cheeks, but I fought the instinct to look away.
He’d brought me here to rattle me, and I wasn’t about to let him see he’d succeeded.
I crossed my arms and arched a brow. “When you’ve quite finished…”
“Oh, I have. A little while ago, actually.”
I jumped and spun to face Loke as he padded toward me, bare-chested, barefoot, dressed only in loose black pants and carrying a mug. The lamplight played across his torso like a lover’s caress, highlighting the planes and dips that led to the waistband of his pants.
I stared at him and looked back at the bed, where he was now on top of the woman, taut ass pumping as he fucked her into a frenzy.
“Simone is a demon in bed,” Loke said.
