Page 96 of Bewitched By the Djinn
It’s everything I want. And it still terrifies me.
“I care about you, Bennet. It’s not that I don’t?—”
“I know,” he says, quietly. “I’m not asking for anything from you. Just please consider it.”
I close my eyes and focus on the warmth of him around me. I can’t ignore the pulse in my chest that always beats faster when he’s near. All the times he’s protected me. Made me laugh. Let me fall apart.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
“I know.” He reaches down and tangles our fingers again. “But I’m not. I’ve already accepted you. That’s why I never bothered putting up shields. I wanted you to feel everything. To know I wasn’t hiding from this. From us.”
Tears sting behind my eyes. I roll over to face him, resting my forehead against his. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot.”
I let out a shaky laugh.
And then we’re kissing. It’s slow, and sweet, and gentle.
The hum of magic between us is like the air right before lightning strikes. But it’s not our magic, it’s us. This thing between us flaring to life. Powerful. Undeniable.
His fingers slide up my spine as if memorizing me, every motion careful and full of wonder. We take off the rest of our clothes slowly, like this isn’t a stolen night. Like maybe, for a little while, we’re not two cursed souls about to fight for a kingdom, we’re only Cassie and Bennet.
We make love quietly, wrapped in the hush of leaves and the soft rustle of ivy. His breath is warm against my neck, his heartbeat thudding in sync with mine. There’s no rush. Just us—his hands, my lips, the electricity between our skin.
Release finds us both rolling first through me and then him like a wave of thunder, brutal, intense, and crushing in intensity.
When it’s over, we don’t speak. We hold each other. My head rests against his chest. His hand settles over my back.
A calm certainty spreads through me. Like maybe, just maybe, it will all be okay.
Chapter
Twenty-Six
The castle rises ahead, shrouded in clouds, dark towers looming under the moonlight. Magical lanterns glint through the fog, illuminating windows and parapets.
It’s giving Dracula vibes.
I still don’t know what to think about Bennet’s mate revelation earlier. And I don’t have time to sit and process it. I have to focus, stay close to Bennet and Helen, and try not to get in the way. Or killed.
We crouch low behind the ridge.
Damp moss soaks through my pants, breath fogging in the chill.
The plan is for Darius to free his brother and Lord Wallace, while Bennet, Helen and I go in search of the Ring of Solomon, since they are the most familiar with the layout of the castle and their uncle’s rooms.
The rest of our group is spread out around outside the castle, about to set off a distraction.
There are no guards outside the door we plan to infiltrate, which leads into the cellar. The guards are positioned between the cellar and the kitchen.
But we won’t need to go through the kitchens, because there is a secret passageway within the cellar. It’s how Helen has snuck out, many times, apparently.
Darius checks his pocket watch and then motions for us to move.
We sneak through shadows, beneath the cover of trees, and then into the dark pockets of the castle walls. Helen leads the way, graceful and silent. Darius handles the lock, and we slip through the servants’ entrance into darkness.
The cellar is cold and musty. My boots scuff against the uneven floor as Helen leads us to a shelf tucked along the far wall.
