Page 23 of Witch Unbound
I looked from Sloane’s room back to Jessie. “You sure about this?”
“It’s the only thing that makes sense,” Poppy said. “But she refuses to feed like that. We tried to get her to…” Poppy looked to Jessie.
“She won’t feed from us. She says she’d rather die than feed off anyone. Her fucking willpower is gonna get her killed.”
Yeah, that sounded like Sloane.
But there was a solution to this. “Then there’s only one thing to do.”
“What?” Jessie asked.
I adjusted my collar to expose my neck. “Make her an offer she can’t refuse.”
Chapter Six
“Are you insane?” Jessie stared at me in horror. “You know how Sloane feels about you. How she loses control.”
“Yeah, I’m counting on that. She won’t be able to resist, and she’ll have to feed.”
“And she could kill you,” Jessie pointed out.
“She won’t, because you guys will be there to stop her if she gets carried away.”
Poppy and Jessie exchanged glances. They were considering it.
But then Jessie tucked in her chin and shook her head. “We can’t risk the anchor’s life.”
“We can’t risk Sloane’s either. The Elites are important. She’s important.”
“I say we do this,” Bramble said. “Get her to feed and then force her to stop. You guys have magic, so we use that.”
“We have to, Jess,” Poppy said softly.
Jessie made a sound of exasperation. “Fine. Let’s do this.”
I knocked on Sloane’s bedroom door and she answered a minute later. She had a washcloth in her hand, and I caught the scent of mint. Mouthwash? Toothpaste?
Her eyes widened at the sight of me. “No. Hell no. You need to go.”
I slipped past her into the room and the others followed.
“You need to feed,” Jessie said. “We’re here to make sure you do.”
Sloane let out a bark of laughter. “Are you deaf? How many times do I have to say it? I’d rather fucking die than feed on a living person.”
“Bit selfish, don’t you think?” Bramble said. “You’re an Elite. The first line of defense between the revenants and humans, and you want to die rather than drink a little blood and be able to do your job?”
Sloane’s jaw ticked. “What? So you line up like a fucking buffet, is that it? You think you can tempt me? Break me?” She squared her shoulders.
“No.” I stepped forward. “Not them. Just me. I want you to feed on me.”
Her attention zeroed in on me, pupils dilating, mouth parting. I caught the delicate flare of her nostrils and the quickening of her breath, but then she closed her eyes and took a step back.
“Not happening, Cupcake.”
My stomach flipped at her use of my nickname. I took a step toward her and she held her ground, head turned away from me, breathing shallow and fast.
“Sloane, you know you want me.”
